#i've also been working for my sister some this month which has been nice to do again

[pkmndaisuki]

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match X

Pt. 1 Pt. 11

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: Disagreements about children…and…you have to read to find out.

Wc: 5.5k

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The gentle morning cold of the February wind combined with your warm cup of coffee was a perfect balance, as you stare out at the Nueva York skyline from the patio of the apartment.

Since leaving the night of the holiday party, you and Miguel decided to stay for a month in the apartment, in hopes some of the heat of drama has settled down, and also hopes that Sofia would give up.

The month of January with just you, Miguel and Gabi has been a dream. Going out to dinner when neither you or Miguel felt like cooking. It was a perfect routine after the holiday break was over. Majority of the time you and Miguel would drive Gabi to and from school, which was closer back to the neighborhood, but it was a nice drive. Luckily soccer season had not started yet, as you weren't sure if you or Miguel were ready for the judging stares of the neighborhood parents.

Sometimes when you had to go to classes early or the same with Miguel and work one of you would drive her.

Today was a Saturday and the day you were going back to the house. Of course you loved that house, holding already so many memories since you moved in 7 months ago, but if only you could just wipe away the rest of the neighborhood, and stay in the perfect bubble of the O'Hara family.

Another thing that has been happening this past month was Miguel trying to bring up the topic of children. And of course every time he has, you have been lucky enough to avoid it.

Yes, you do want children with Miguel. To give Gabi a little brother or sister. Maybe both. But In a few years, after your done with grad school and start your career. Of course your argument can be easily proven wrong at the strong baby fever you've been having lately. It definitely didn't help when one of Miguel's coworkers, Peter who came to drop something off and had brought his baby daughter Mayday with him. While the two were talking you watched over Mayday. Of course Miguel saw how much you loved spending time with her, and as soon as Peter and Mayday left he brought the topic up. And lucky for you, Gabriel had called him on his phone.

You sigh as you watch your breath, cold enough to see it. Two arms wrapped around your waist as you felt a familiar head rest on your shoulder before bringing you against him as he gently kissed up your neck, before turning your head and placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, mi amor. I didn't see you in bed this morning. You usually only come out here this early if something is on your mind."

You set your cup of coffee down on the table before turning around to face him. Still in his arms you rest your head on his chest, as he rest his head on top of yours. Something you both know calm each other down.

"A few things actually. About going back and having to face everyone. Hoping to god we never see Sofia again. Figuring out how to pay for my last semester at school. And well... the other thing, I feel like we might get into an argument over." You lift your head to look up at him. His brows furrow and a small frown forms, curious about your last sentence.

"You think so? You can tell me, cariño. I'd never get mad at you." Miguel caressed your cheek as he gave you a smile of reassurance. He was right, even the little disagreements you have gotten into in the past, neither of you have ever gotten mad at each other. Maybe a little annoyed, but a quick make out session or fuck usually made the annoyances go away.

"It's about kids. I know you've been trying to talk to me about it for a while now."

"I've noticed you've been trying to avoid that conversation. Is there a reason why?" Miguel chuckled as he put some of your hair behind your ear to see more of your beautiful face.

" When I tell you my answer I don't know if I can handle seeing the disappointment in your eyes." Tears brim the corners of your eyes, which Miguel sees right away as he gently wipes them away.

"Mi amor, please tell me. Please don't cry. It breaks my heart see you upset." Miguel puts both hands on the side of your face, caressing your cheeks and wiping any stray away tears.

"I want to have kids. But not for a while."

"For how long?" You can see the nerves build up inside him, even though you could see he was trying to hide it from you.

"When I'm 29, maybe 30." You bite your lower lip, nervous for his answer.

"So, almost a decade from now?"

"Yeah..." Your heart ached as you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Can I ask why so long from now?"

"Starting my career. If I got pregnant now it would be a lot harder for employers to hire me. It's wrong. But it happens. And I want to go to grad school and I just don't know if I could do that and have a baby. I just don't know if I can balance starting a career and have a baby at the same time. That's why I thought after a couple of years I can handle both."

"I've seen your resume, hermosa it is very impressive. so is your transcript. You have a really good chance at getting hired at Alchamex. And women are treated very well there. They receive great maternity leave. If you worked in my department your boss, Jess, my coworker currently is pregnant."

"Is she 21?" You give him a deadpanned look.

"Well, no. She's 33. But even if she was your age. There would be no difference."

"Miguel, I would be an intern. And the interns are highly competitive with each other there. Oh and by the way, how would they react if they found out that the head of Alchemex's Genetics department is the boyfriend and baby daddy to my child. They would think I slept my way into getting the position."

"Well first off, you would be my wife by the time it happened. And second off, you know you would get the job because of your qualifications not because of me."

"Is this turning into a proposal?" Your eyes widen, chuckling lightly.

"Well, not now. But I love you y/n. I do attend to marry you one day."

"And I love you too Miguel. But don't change the subject. Are you ok with my answer about kids?"

"A decade is a long time. By the time we had one I'll almost be 50 and Gabi would be 15."

"Well, when did you think we were going to have more kids?" You cross you arms as you look up at him.

"I thought maybe by next year we would have a baby." Miguel brushed his fingers through his hair, out of his face.

"So you mean me getting pregnant right after graduation? Miguel that's really soon. It's too soon."

"Well 9 years is too far away. Can we compromise at least a bit?"

"Can we wait to have this discussion after I graduate? Please." You look up at him as you wrap you arms around his neck, pushing your body against him. Miguel wraps his arms around you.

"I know what your doing, hermosa. Trying to distract me from the topic." Miguel looks at you slightly annoyed but with a hint of lust in his eyes.

"I am. But can we please talk about it later. I know this is going to go in an evil cycle at the moment. And it's Saturday. I don't want to get in to an argument today."

"Alright, cariño. We'll talk about it later. But please think about it though."

"I will. Please think about what I said too."

"I will." Miguel leaned down and kissed your lips which you happily returned. You both walked back inside the apartment getting ready to head back.

Everything was packed into the car as you carried a sleepy Gabi in your arms.

"Thank you for packing the car, Rick." Miguel handed the doorman a $100 before getting into the car, while you strap Gabi into her car seat before getting into the passenger seat.

The drive back was in silence, obviously this morning conversation weighing heavily on both of your minds.

By the time you drove down your block you saw an unfamiliar car in front of your house. When Miguel pulled into a drive way, " Maldita sea!" he swore under his breath. You look to him before looking ahead and sigh in frustration. "You have got to be kidding me." (Damn it)

Waiting in your drive way was no other than Sofia.

"Stay in the car." Miguel looked over to you with worry in his eyes, before he turned to look at Sofia with a glare. He gets out of the car and walk towards Sofia. He had closed the car door so you couldn't fully here their conversation, but you could tell that Miguel was getting more frustrated the more Sofia stood there with a care free attitude.

"Mama?" Your eyes widen and turn around as you see Gabi was awake.

"Hi baby bug. How did you sleep?"

"Good. Are we home?"

"Yes, we are sweetie."

"What's Papa doing? Why is that lady there again?" Gabi pouted as she saw her father having a yelling spat with that same strange woman. You saw her begin to tear up. "Oh baby." You quickly get out of the car and make your way to the back as you unbuckle her from her car seat. She balled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You run her back and whisper in her ear saying, "everything is ok. It's ok baby bug."

Hearing his daughter crying Miguel turned around to see you consoling her with worry and fear in his eyes wanting to know what happened.

"She woke up to you outside the car, and got scared with what's happening. You need to leave Sofia. Your making Gabi upset." You shoot daggers her way, to which she rolled her eyes.

"She's a kid. They cry all the time. I doubt it's because of me. Her mother." Sofia said as she tried to walk up to you to get to Gabi, but you stepped away as you turned Gabi away from her. Miguel stepped in the middle protecting you and Gabi from her stepping any closer.

"Leave Sofia. You have no right to be here. And stop saying your her mother. You're not."

"I'm her biological mother. I have every right to have her in my life. And I'll take you to court to prove my point." Argued Sofia.

"Sure take me to court. I have enough money to fight you. But I have enough evidence to say you didn't want her. Even now you barely care about her. You're upsetting my daughter. Now leave."

"Ugh, whatever. But I'm not done here." Sofia rolled her eyes as she walked back to her car and got in before driving away.

Both you and Miguel's attention went back to Gabi as she still was crying in your arms.

"Come here princesa, I'm sorry you had to wake up to that. Everything's ok now." You briefly gave Gabi to Miguel so that he could console her.

"Papa has to pull the car into the drive way. I'm going to give you back to Mama, ok?" Gabi nodded, still pouting as Miguel gave her a kiss to the top of her head before handing her back to you. You kiss the top of her head as you wiped away the rest of her tears.

"Hey, while Papa parks the car in the garage, what are some things you want to do for your 6th birthday party next week." You say, as you unlock the door to the house and walk inside. A smile graces your lips as Gabi perked up slightly when you mentioned her birthday. While Gabi went on an adorable tangent of different things she wanted to do for her birthday party, you looked at your surroundings, happy to be back.

You head to the living room where you sit on the couch with Gabi still in your arms as she begins to calm down and return to her cheery self.

"Can we do a princess super hero theme?" Gabi raised her head from the crook of your neck as she looked up at you, face tear stained.

"Of course we can do that. I'll start coming up with some ideas and I'll show them to you."

"Yay!" Gabi yawned as she rested her head against your chest.

"Do you want to take a nap?" You asked her which she nodded slightly against you. You smiled as you stood up from the sofa and walked upstairs to her bedroom to tuck her into bed.

When you went back downstairs you heard Miguel in the kitchen. Entering the kitchen you hug him from behind as he drank his coffee. As you rest your head against his back you felt his muscles shift as he move his arm.

"¿Dónde está Gabi?" (Where is Gabi?)

"She got tired after crying so I laid her down in her bed to take a nap." You could tell he was still annoyed, not just at the argument with Sofia but also with you.

"Miguel. I was thinking of what you said earlier..." You felt him tense slightly as he turned around to face you. You saw hope glisten in his eyes. You glance away from him as you move to face against the island counter, contemplating your next words.

"Cariño?" Miguel moved behind you as his hands rested on your hips, encouraging you to turn around to face him, which you did as you looked up into his reddish brown eyes.

"What about 5 years? When I'm 26."

"Is there anyway I could get you down to 3 years?" Miguel added softly with a slight hesitation in his voice. Your gaze shifted from his to the fridge.

Three years? That's wasn't that far from now. But maybe you should consider it. It's not like he's not able to support you. But the thought of being financially dependent on him bothers you, brings chills up your spine. It would make you feel like you were using him, even though that wasn't the truth. You sighed. Maybe you will be doing well with a career in 3 years?

You look back up to him, a smile coming to your lips. "Sure, three years." Your answer brought a wide smile to his face as he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips. The kiss began to get more heated as Miguel lifted you on to the counter, settling himself between your thighs as he continued to abuse your lips.

"Can we go to our room?" You huff out a breath of air, lips swollen slightly. Miguel nodded as he lifted you from the counter, large hands cupping your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips smashed against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

The tension and stress between the you both of you didn't get you upstairs as you pass through the living room Miguel decides to lay you on the sofa, with him over you. He pressed his lips to yours, "thank you for compromising, hermosa. You'll be an amazing mother." Miguel said as he kiss down your neck to his shirt that you borrowed this morning as he unbuttons it, throwing it to the ground when it's off of you. He loved it when you put on his clothes.

"I know you'll be an amazing father. You're already such a great one now." If eyes could physically turn into hearts that's what Miguel would look like after your words, as his heart is filled with so much love for you.

His lips moved down to your now bra less chest as he latches on to one of your nipples. A moan escapes you as you comb your fingers through his black curls.

You help pull off your leggings, knowing that if you didn't get them off sooner you knew Miguel would rip them off as he has in the past. Miguel helped you pull them off before ripping your panties off. In the past you would get annoyed by it, but now you always by them in bulk. Cause no matter how many times you tell him to just take them off, his sexual urge to be inside you always makes him forget, or not care. But seconds after they are off your forget as you feel your self get stretched by his large girth.

Your hands move on to his shoulders as they lightly claw his back. "Fuck baby, you're tight. Relax for me, cariño."

You felt your pleasure course through your limbs,  now relaxed as you slightly move your hips to gain friction, signally for Miguel to move. He removed himself until the tip before thrusting completely into you with the snap of his hips, making you gasp out a moan.

As Miguel continued his assaults to your pussy he lifted your hips, gaining a new position inside you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans. You felt every one of his ridges move against your gummy walls, while his tip hit your g-spot continuously. Miguel removed your hand from your mouth as he held both of your wrists above your head with one of his.

"No mi amor. I want to hear your beautiful voice." Miguel groaned as his forehead pressed against yours.

"B-but Gabi." You managed to let out.

"It's fine, she's all the way upstairs." Miguel kissed your lips as they moved down to your neck as he began to suck against the sweet spot, letting out another gasp.

Miguel's pace quickened as he continued to ram into you. He was fucking you so hard you thought you felt your insides become messed up. Miguel looked down towards your torso. He felt his cock grew harder as he saw himself physically stretch out your insides.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of this amazing pussy. I can't wait to see this belly swollen with my children. I can't wait till you bare my children, mi amor. Te quiero tanto, hermosa." Miguel said in your ear, making your heart swell with love.

"I love you too, Miggy. So much." You felt your core twist in a knot before releasing, as you moan out loud from your climax. Not long after Miguel thrusted deep inside, balls slapping against you as he spills deep inside you, making your inner walls white and filling you until it starts to spill out of you.

He pulls out as he took a deep breath, placing a loving kiss to your lips before parting as his forehead rested on yours.

After resting on the sofa after your love making Miguel lifts you from the sofa and carries you to the master bathroom, where he turned on the Roman-size bath.

When it was ready he carries you into the water, where he found a place to sit and rested against the wall of the bath resting his arms on the sides as you rested your back against him. You both stayed there in perfect silence, showing small affections of love with kisses and  small loving touches until fatigue took over your body as your eyes closed falling asleep.

—————————

Two days before Gabi’s birthday

“Yay! We’re here!” Gabi cheered as she helped the popular cartoon gift bag in her hands as she ran up to the front door of the house.

You and Miguel smiled down at her excited attitude. Today was one of her close friends birthday party, sadly it was at Ms. Johnson’s house. The woman always got on your nerves, as she tried to flirt with Miguel every second she could. And in front of you too. Of course, no one knew you two were dating. This was your first appearance as a couple, so you were curious if she soul try to do the same thing.

After Gabi rang the doorbell the door opened revealing your favorite person.

“Ah the O’Hara’s and Y/n. How nice to see you again.” Ms. Johnson said with a the most fakest smiles, it took all of your will power not to roll your eyes. She welcomed the three of you inside as Gabi wandered off the the backyard where the rest of the kids were.

With a hand on your lower back you and Miguel followed Ms. Johnson to the living room where other parents talked while sipping on cocktails and eating snacks. When you both entered many parents stared, one whispering to the other, “I can’t believe he’s with Sam and Sarah’s daughter. I’m shocked they even showed up here.”

“I know. Especially after what went down at the holiday party. He’s so attractive. He could literally have anyone and he chooses this girl?”

You tried your best to pretend you didn’t hear the conversation as you kept your smile on your face. The audacity of some of these people. They should just mind their own damn business.

“Would you care for any drinks? Y/n are you old enough to drink?” Smiled Ms. Johnson as she looked at you.

“Yes I am. Maybe you had two many glasses of wine since you can’t seem to remember my age. You should slow down.” You smile as you hear Miguel trying to stifle a chuckle along with a few other people in the room.

“I’ll get you two a glass of wine.” Ms. Johnson smiled before leaving the room.

Miguel leaned down to whisper into your ear, “We’ll have a glass of wine and then we’ll say we have to go to another event for my job.” You turn to look up at him with a smile. “Sounds like a good escape plan.” Miguel returns your smile as he leaves a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, so like what is it that makes you interested in a guy like Miguel. He is like over a decade older than you.” Said one of Gabi’s classmates dads as he walks over to you.

“Ryan, you can’t just say stuff like that. It’s rude.” Scolded his wife next to him. “I’m sorry about him. He’s had a few too many beers.” She chuckled.

“No, but I’m serious. Cause like y/n your freaking hot. Why be with a man so much older? Yeah ok, Miguel you keep yourself in shape man. But like, I just don’t get it. Like I’m 6 years younger than you Miguel, yet I don’t have a young hot babe beside me. Ah, maybe it’s the money.”

Your eyes widen from his words.

“You listen here. You’re lucky there are kids around us or my fist would be in your face. If I ever here you disrespect my girlfriend again, you’ll deeply regret it.” Miguel got into the man’s face sending him a deathly glare as his voice turns into a serious tone. Giving the guy a slight scare he raised his arms up in surrender as he moved away from Miguel.

“Maybe it’s best if you and Ryan leave.” Said Ms. Johnson as she came back into the room with two glasses of wine for you and Miguel. How you so desperately wanted to drink this glass in one swoop.

The couple left to your relief, but you still weren’t comfortable as he wasn’t the only one thinking that same thing about you and Miguel.

After talking with these unbearable people for a hellish hour, Miguel finally decided that it’s time to go.

“We’re going to head out. We have another event to go to.”

“Aww alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Ms. Johnson smiled flirtatiously towards Miguel wondering if he was picking Gabi up up after the sleepover.

“I am actually. So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” You smile as you take Miguel’s empty wine glass and hand her both of your glasses. He smile faltered before being replaced with a fake one.

“Perfect. Well…I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Until then.” You return her fake smile before you and Miguel left the living room to give Gabi a quick goodbye before you both left the house.

Walking a block from the house you say, “oh god, was that unbearable. I swear these people are just like on drugs or something, this neighborhood is just so nosy and rude!” You laugh, hysterical from the event.

“Yeah, that was pretty bad in there.” Miguel chuckled before he silently snuck up on you and lifted you up by the waist, wrapping his arms around you before placing a big kiss to your cheek. You let out a laugh as he continued kissing your face and neck. “Miggy, wait till we get home.”

“I can’t help myself mi amor. Now that our relationship is public I want the whole world to know how much I love you.” Miguel kissed your lips one more time, before setting you down. You intertwine your fingers with his as you hold his hand walking the rest of the way back home.

———————-

The day of Gabi’s birthday

“Good morning baby bug! Happy Birthday!” You smile as you sit on the bed beside her.

“Here is a first gift out of many princesa.” Miguel handed her a new stuffed kitty cat animal. After sitting up Gabi hugged the stuffed animal. “Thank you Papa! I love it! I’m going to name her snowball!”

“Such a cute name for a cute kitty.” You smile as you brush strands of hair out of her face. Miguel lifted Gabi out of bed as he hung her upside down on his shoulders.

“Oh no Gabi, the house turned upside down!” Said Miguel as he walked her out of her room and downstairs towards the kitchen.

“Papa, I’m the one that’s upside down.” Gabi giggled from her fathers words. You chuckled along with them as you followed them down to the kitchen where a stack of pancakes topped with berries and whipped cream smiley face and finally a candle.

When all three of you entered the kitchen Miguel flipped her right up and sat her on the kitchen counter chair.

“One last thing.” You say as you get the lighter to light the candle. Once lit both you and Miguel sing Happy Birthday in Spanish before she blew out the candle.

“I wished for everything to stay at it is.” Gabi smiled as she swooped a strawberry in the whip cream and ate it.

“I couldn’t agree more princesa.” Miguel smile as he kissed the top of her head.

After eating together as a family, Miguel went to go get ready for work as he needed to attend an early meeting.

“Ok my two favorite girls. I’ll see you both after work and we’ll celebrate your 6th birthday at your favorite restaurant, princesa.” Miguel walked back into the kitchen in his suite.

“Yay!” Gabi raised her hands in excitement. You chuckled as you saw her face was covered in whipped cream and syrup. You grab a wet cloth and wipe her face before kissing the top of her head.

“Goodbye princesa.” Miguel kissed the top of her head as Gabi wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a small hug.

“Bye bye papa. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He then walked over to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you against him as he gives you a loving goodbye kiss.

“Goodbye cariño. Have a nice day with classes. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye. Have a good day at work. I’ll pick up Gabi from school.”

Miguel looked at you and Gabi one more time with a wide happy smile before leaving.

The entire work day was chaotic as he had no time to take a break until now.

Miguel smiled wide as he entered the luxury store. He gazed around before his eyes darted towards his main mission here.

“Welcome Sir. How may I help you?” Said the stores salesman as he greeted Miguel with a welcoming smile.

“I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

“Wonderful! We have a great selection. What’s your price range?”

“Can I see your most valued rings?”

The store clerk eyes widen and smile grew bigger, “Of course. Follow me this way. We keep our nice items in a private room.” The salesman gestured for Miguel to follow him.

After some time and looking through a vast amount of rings, Miguel eyes landed on the one. The one you knew would be perfect. Because you were perfect. And you deserved the best.

“This is the one.”

“That’s an excellent choice Mr. O’Hara. That’s one lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Miguel smiled as he held the ring in his hands, so small compared to

his large hands. Just like your hands when they’re intertwined in his.

“Thank you for your purchase. Please feel free to reach out if you have an questions or concerns about your purchase. Have a nice day.”

“You too. Thank you.” Miguel left the store, stopping a few feet away to open the box and look at the ring again.

His phone went off. Miguel rolled his eyes thinking it was work as he close the ring box and put it in his coat pocket before he took his phone out of his pocket. The number calling was unfamiliar, but he press the green button, deciding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Mr. O’Hara speaking?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Nueva York Medical. You were listed as Ms. Y/n L/n emergency contact?”

“Y-yes.” Miguel’s heart stopped before rapidly beating against his chest as his stomach dropped.

“She was in a car accident.”

————————————————————————

Tag List

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making my daughter morning baskets?

Okay so this has been going in circles for almost a month and I feel like I'm losing my mind, so getting external opinions.

I have 2 sisters, A and B. A is happily childfree, B has 2 kids, (6 and 2), I have 1 kid (1). We were all together at Christmas, and Sis A asked how daycare was going (we started doing part time daycare in September). I said it was good, I was getting the time to focus on work when I worked 3 10s the days my daughter goes to care, and then half days the 2 days she's home.

I also mentioned that I'd recently started doing morning baskets for her. My phrasing was something like 'I started doing this silly Pinterest morning basket thing, but it's actually working really well for us, so that's nice.' Sis B mentions that she's seen the idea, but didn't really think it would work for her. I said that makes sense, her mornings are different than mine (she is a SAHM and homeschools her 6 yo).

Conversation moved on to other things and I thought nothing of it, until after the holiday Sis A messages me that I was cruel to Sis B, bragging about making more money than her, and should apologize. I ask what she's talking about and she says the morning basket thing. I clarify that while some people do printables/coloring in their baskets, my kiddo is still eating crayons, so I'm literally taking a couple books and toys that she already has and putting them in the living room so that it's the first thing she sees in the morning. I've found that since there's only about an hour between waking and leaving for daycare, it's helpful to not have her drag every toy she has out for me to clean up later. When I said that my sister's mornings are different, I mean that she's staying home and also doing school/prek activities with her kids, so it's a very different flow of the day. I explained all of this to Sis A, who maintained that I was bragging about my income.

Concerned that I was the AH, I contacted Sis B, because I wanted to apologize even if it was just a misunderstanding. Sis B has no issue, says she's not discussed it with SIs A at all, and further that she assumed I meant her kids' school activities when I said her mornings are different (which is exactly right). Also, because Sis B's youngest is a year older than mine, a fair amount of my kid's toys are hand-me-downs from her, so she thinks the 'bragging about toys' comment it silly. Fair, honestly. I move on.

Until next time Sis A calls. 'Have you apologized to Sis B yet?' Telling her about our conversation and that she's the only one who wasn't on the same page has no effect, she maintains that Sis B is just 'feeling too shamed' to tell me how she really feels. She's now telling our extended family that I'm 'lording my wealth' over them both, and I've got aunts telling me I should apologize. But to whom? For what? AITA??

~~Example of a basket, in case info is helpful: stuffed dino, dino hotwheel car, a couple of books about dinosaurs, some blocks to round it out. This is all stuff that we have already, I'm just grabbing some things around a loose theme the night before.

What are these acronyms?

[dduane]

Hello Lady Duane! 😊 (I feel that if we can call Neil Sir Gaiman, you certainly deserve a title as well!)

I've wanted to tell you for ages now that you are one of my absolute favourite Trek authors, have been since I first read some of your novels over a decade ago as a teen - my parents and I have about? 4 or 5 copies of The Doctor's Orders between us, German and English alike (my dad even bought a copy to keep at the office for reading during his lunch breaks). The Wounded Sky is another one of my favourite Trek novels ❤️

My sister and I also occasionally watch old Barbie movies for the nostalgia. So when we watched Fairytopia a few months ago, we found out that you had written the script for the movie! I literally let out a happy yell when I saw you show up in the opening credits and went "omg, it's Diane Duane!!" That was so unexpected but also very delightful! 😊

And now, thanks to you being on tumblr as well, I found out about your other novels and bought your ebook bundle the other day. :D I'm currently a bit over halfway through So You Want to Be a Wizard and I just wanted to let you know that I'm enjoying it so very much!! ❤️

Thank you for all the wonderful words over the years! It continues to be a joy! 😊💜

Hi there!

Regarding titles: Well, okay... as long as everybody's clear that as a US citizen, titles are usually off the menu for me. (As an Irish one, not so much—the government can approve the use of them if it likes—though the neighbors'd snicker at me down the pub.) Anyway: I accept gratefully.* Though yelling "Yo, Trekkie!" might well be just as effective. :)

I'm glad you've enjoyed my Trek work! It's always been very satisfying to do. The chance to actually write professionally in what was my main fandom (after Holmes) during my late teen years has been a most unexpected—when I got started—and extraordinary thing.

And as for Fairytopia: That was a lot of fun too, and also unexpected. My agent just called me up one morning and said "How are you about Barbie...?" and I said, "Well, okay I guess, I had the usual number of them!" —and we were off. The Mattel people were fabulous to work with, and I look back on that whole project with affection.

Meanwhile, I'm delighted you're having fun with the first of the Young Wizards books! There are plenty more of them in that package (still discounted) that conform to the new timeline, which now launches in 2008 rather than the mid 1980s. (Book 10 of the series didn't need that treatment, and so isn't available in a revised edition.)

Anyway: thanks for letting me know. It's always nice to find out that I'm getting the job done. :)

*But also: according to the usual protocols, Neil—when they finally get around to knighting him, probably when a more literature- and intelligence-friendly government takes over—will properly be "Sir Neil": as UK knighthood's an acknowledgement of the person, not the family, and knights are therefore addressed by their first names. (Not to fret: people from both sides of the Water sometimes get this detail backwards.)

(...Be fun if they stuck him straight into the Lords, though. Usually, if you don't want to use your last name in your lordship's title, you can select the name of someplace in the UK that has personal meaning for you. Seeing Neil ennobled as Lord Neverwhere would be a trip.) :)

[bingbongsupremacy]

How To Kiss

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Warnings: Confusion about Sexuality. I've never actually read a teen magazine so idk if they had shit like this. Sounded good. Ellie and Reader are like teens in this rn. It's going to fast forward to when they're older in the part 2 im going to do.

I haven't had my first kiss yet. Hopefully someday bros.

Summary: The day you and Ellie discovered you were both gay.

Song: I kissed a girl - Katy Perry

(Btw Credit to Liv McConnel at teen vogue for the kissing steps. I took them from there. )

Also Joel works at an Auto Shop in this.

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

My fingers brush over the shiny pages of Savage Starlight. Ellie quietly hums along while tapping her foot on her space themed bed cover.

" Fuck no. " Ellie mutters, flipping the page of the comic. " That ass. " She whispers.

A small grin makes its way onto my face. Ellie's habit of talking to herself while reading her comics is the funniest thing.

I finish the book and turn to look at my best friend. Her brows furrow in concentration. Her top teeth softly bite down on her lower lip, her gaze focused on the pages in front of her. She lets out a sigh and shuts the comic, glancing over at me. " I can't believe we have to wait until next month for the next book. I need to know now! " Ellie complains with a huff.

" I know! " I turn my gaze up at the ceiling. " At least we have the rest of the books to re-read. "

Ellie hums in agreement. " What should we do now? Joel's not going to be home for another hour. He's bringing pizza. "

Ellie's adoptive father was working a late shift at the auto shop he worked at.

" Nice! " I sit up and turn to her. " Guess what I snagged from my sister. " I smirk while pulling open my brightly colored backpack.

" Um uh a dog? "

I roll my eyes. " Why the hell would I keep a dog in my backpack for so long, Ellie. "

Ellie shrugs and leans back against her headboard. " Variety is the spice of life. "

I chuckle. " What the fuck. "

I pull out a teen magazine. " It's a girl magazine thing! My sister has like seventy of these from when she was younger. I found them when I was snooping around this morning! " I grin while flipping through the pages. I open up to a page of Justin Bieber. " Justin Bieber is in like almost all of these! "

Ellie crinkles her nose. " Bro not Justin. "

I roll my eyes and toss one of the magazines to her. " I thought we could look at them. "

We flip through the pages of the magazines. We take some quizzes (All of which Ellie makes fun of) and read some of the advice.

" How To Kiss " Ellie reads out loud. " What the hell. " She goes to turn the page.

" Wait! Let's read it. " I reach for the magazine.

" Why? It's not like you have a boyfriend. " Ellie smirks.

I glare at the girl. " Fuck you, Ellie. I just want to read it, okay? Who knows, we might need that in the future? "

" Fine. " Ellie sighs. " Fine. "

The two of you huddle around the brightly colored magazine.

1. Build up to the kiss.

2. Make sure the kiss has your, and the other party’s, consent.

3. Start things slow.

4. Keep your mouth soft and relaxed.

5. Switch your area of focus and/or your speed.

6. Speaking of area of focus — move things away from their lips.

7. Go easy on the tongue.

8. Don’t overthink it.

9. Talk about it afterward!

" Doesn't sound that hard. I literally could've told you that. " Ellie mutters. " Kissing isn't a hard concept. "

I continue on reading through the different categories. " But like, it seems hard. How do you know if the other person likes it? "

Ellie grabs a small ball from her bedside table and starts throwing it up into the air. " They'll probably tell you. "

" Have you had your first kiss? " I ask while watching the other girl curiously. She would've told me if she'd been kissed, right? I mean, we tell each other everything. It's always been that way, always will be that way.

Ellie pauses throwing the ball and glances down at me. " No. " She admits, a small blush crawling onto her cheeks. " But I mean, kissing can't be that hard. It's like...common sense. People do it all the time. "

I frown. " What if I'm a bad kisser? "

" You won't be. " Ellie shakes her head. " Stop reading that shit, it's getting in your head. Let's just do something else. Like watch a movie or something. "

" Seriously tho, El. What if I'm a bad kisser. What if the person I kiss is so horrified by my kissing, they leave me? " A million scenarios run through my head.

Ellie lets out a groan. " Oh my god. Will you just stop. You're going to be a fine kisser. " Ellie meets your gaze. " Look, if...if you want to...we could like I don't know. Practice or something. " A tinge of red spreads over Ellie's cheeks. She avoids my gaze, instead staring straight at the magazine.

I look at her in shock. Kissing Ellie? I'd be lying if I said I never had thoughts of kissing her before...but everyone has thoughts, right? I mean Ellie's eyes are some of the prettiest I've ever seen. She's definitely attractive. But I like boys. I think. Plus Ellie's not gay. Right?

Ellie shifts uncomfortably. " Never mind, that was-that was stupid of me to offer. Let's just watch a show-"

" No. " I shake my head. " Let's do it. I mean, we both need practice. " Suddenly it feels like my heart starts pounding faster. My fingers feel the urge to fidget with something out of pure anxiety.

Ellie nods and moves the magazine to the side. She positions herself in front of me, on her knees. Ellie eyes meet with mine before she glances down at the magazine, obviously looking over the steps.

I'm about to comment on her hypocrisy when she suddenly puts her hand on my chin. She draws her face close to mine. Her minty breath fans over my mouth, causing me to freeze in anticipation.

Ellie slowly leans in. In seconds, I feel her warm lips on mine.

My heart feels like it explodes. Butterflies seem to soar around my stomach, confusing me. What am I feeling? What is this? How is this happening?

My eyes study Ellie's relaxed face. Her eyes are closed. Her long brown lashes rest peacefully on her cheeks. Deciding to follow her lead, I try to relax. I close my eyes and follow her slow mouth movements.

All worries and thoughts of mine seem to melt away. What are the steps again? I don't remember?

We spend who knows how long kissing before Ellie starts to speed up. She places a small kiss on the corner of my lip before pulling away panting.

The loss of her lips leaves a pit of disappoints in my stomach. I ignore it and look up at her eyes.

An unfamiliar expression is sprawled on her face. Maybe realization?

" That was.." Ellie begins.

" Not bad. " I grin.

Ellie chuckles. " Yeah. Not bad. " Ellie shuts off the radio and turns on the small tv on her dresser. " What should we watch? "

_______

We never kissed again after that. Things remained the same. Ellie and I still hung out every Friday at her house to read comics and watch movies. We sat together at school with Dina and Jesse.

The only things that changed were my feelings. I started to develop a crush on Ellie, not that I could ever act on it. Ellie didn't like me back.

It wouldn't matter anyways. Ellie's sister Sarah ended up getting really sick, causing Ellie's family to move to another state to get better care for her. Somewhere along the line we stopped talking. Slowly, calls every day turned to calls once a week and eventually to once a year.

I get it. Life goes on. I'm in the past. Friendships die. Nothing lasts forever.

[annaholak]

Inktober, Tiffany Aching, Barbie, and a General Life Update

The Plan: Read the Tiffany Aching books during the summer, re-make her, and use her as the main character for my next Inktober.

The Reality: while I was finishing Cupid Cafe my landlord decided to sell the apartment I've been renting for over a decade. It was an extremely shitty one (no heating, broken air-conditioning units, dark, moldy, etc), but it was dirty cheap, and the best I could afford.

It was sold in mid-June, and the new owner (surprising no one) wanted to raise the rent. I don't know how the rental market is wherever you live, but here (in Athens, Greece) it's a right nightmare (Airbnb has a lot to answer for...). I couldn't find anything in the same price bracket that wasn't basically a tiny basement-turned-into-a-studio. I was panicking. Heavily.

In the end a (really good) friend came to my rescue. She convinced her mom (who had moved to her vacation home during the pandemic) to rent me the city apartment she was rarely using anymore. With the same money I was paying for the previous one. A fucking life saver let me tell you.

It's a much bigger, and generally much nicer, one than the previous shithole I was living in. I finally have enough space for an actual studio. It's also in a much nicer neighbourhood. One I normally would not be able to afford. Lots of green spaces, and very pet friendly (I don't have a pet at the moment, but I'm greatly enjoying meeting all the happy puppers on their walks, whenever I'm out and about).

I moved in in mid-July. I'm still working on it, as I've been going through a lot of the things I had in storage, deciding what to keep, donate, or throw away, and that takes time. The studio is still a mess, but here is a sneak peek of my current working space (the walls were supposed to be lilac, but I'm not complaining - Peppa-the-pig pink it is):

Anyway, back to Inktober. As you can imagine I had hardly the time to read anything during the summer, so the Tiffany Aching idea will have to wait. I also felt extremely uninspired by this year's Inktober prompts. I dug around a bit and found a prompt list I actually like. It's the Mystical Witchtober one, hosted by agingerly aianaiya isabee Madie Meri Marigona Suli Aria and Talita on Instagram. Here's the prompt list (by isabee):

As I was going through the things I've had in storage I found some of my childhood Barbie magazines and sticker albums. So I'm thinking of riding the nostalgia wave, and turning my Witchtober into a slightly Barbie-esque, and a bit late 1980's/early 1990's themed, witch-vampire romance.

I will be working on it at a rather leisurely pace, since I'm still busy working on my new space, and also recovering from a recurring freak throat infection I've had since mid-August (was it strep? was it mono? Who knows? Not my doctors). I've been through two rounds of antibiotics and I'm still not completely well, so please be patient with me.

I think that's all for now. Stick around for a very soft and pink Witchtober. And worry not, I have a lot of Wyrd Sisters things planned once this one is over.

P.S.

Oh yeah, I've also somehow managed in the middle of all the chaos to acquire a new boyfriend. Which hasn't happened in a while. So that's nice.

P.P.S. (bonus for still reading this essay of an update)

I made last year's Wyrd Sisters Abroad Inktober into a zine for the Comicdom Con in May. In true ADHD fashion it was written at five a.m. the morning it had to be at the printer's, after the third all nighter in a row. So typos were inevitable. But the fact that this was the only typo that made it through to the printed version, had me giggling uncontrollably once I discovered it (a couple of months later, it took me a while). Enjoy:

[masterwords]

only fools rush in

Summary: After a custodial interview with Vincent Perotta drags up some of Hotch's well hidden childhood trauma, he takes Morgan on a little road trip into his past. (They also have quite a bit of sex.)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 13.3k

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse & child death among others...they are all on ao3 but that's the biggie.

Notes: First off, this is long. Like super long. Like probably should have broken it up into chapters but I have too many of those in progress right now and I just wanted to stamp something as finished. Second off, this is probably the best story I've written in recent months. I've been posting updates to multi-chaps but my writing has been dogshit lately and I feel like this one...isn't. It turned out nice. I'm proud of it. Third! It's basically a really long headcanon dump. And beyond that, it almost fits into the Chicago universe but not quite so if you notice some similarities...that's why. Ultimately I wanted to keep the sister thing separate though.

**

“He looks too happy,” Derek said quietly to Hotch as they stood outside the one way glass. In the small room, with its banged up gray walls and dirty tiled floor, sat Vincent Perotta. A few years older than they’d last seen him but all things considered, he looked no worse for the wear. His hair was kept as short as ever, his features stony but content, his eyes void of compassion. “I don’t like it.”

“I’ll make it quick,” replied Hotch, though the twisting aching mess in his gut told him it wouldn’t be that easy. Derek was right, he looked almost happy sitting there. Like he was ready to receive a visitor, not an interrogation, not questions pertaining to a murder.

“You think he knows anything?”

“I do. I think he was way too good at what he did to be kept in the dark.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. You think he’s glad Russo’s dead?”

“Absolutely. He may have ordered the hit himself.”

Derek turned to Hotch, eyes wide. “You really think that?”

“He blames Russo for putting him here. Always has. Russo had to have betrayed him. He already had Jimmy before we found him, so in his mind, all of these years, it can only have led him to the conclusion that Russo was working with us. Our visits to Russo sealed the deal.”

“He’s got connections on the outside.”

“I’ll bet they’re limited, he’s a relic, but they’re reliable. And whomever it was that hit Russo is likely to be someone Perotta trusts.”

“That smile…” Derek muttered, unable to escape the shiver it sent up his spine. Hotch squared his shoulders.

“He’s going to take a swing at me personally,” Hotch said, knowing what he was about to walk in to. After his last conversation with Perotta, there was nothing else to make of that smile. Perotta had done some digging and planned to share his findings. “I’d prefer if it were only you standing here.”

“Why’s that?”

Hotch bit the inside of his cheek nervously for a moment, trying to weigh his options. They weren’t good no matter which side of the scale he was on. He was walking into a well-laid trap. A small voice told him to bail, that he really didn’t care who killed Russo or why. Russo was a bad guy who did awful things and he got what he deserved...that was the easy part. But murder is murder, and that part of Hotch that believed in his oath couldn’t abide by his murder going unsolved. Not if he could manage it.

“He and I have unfinished business,” was what Hotch settled on. “In his mind.”

“How so?”

“I left him hanging on a point that he wanted to discuss. He’ll have gathered plenty of talking points, judging by the look on his face.”

“Hotch…”

“He’s going to say things I’d rather not have an audience for.”

“You want me to turn off the cameras?”

“No.” He thought about Derek in the interrogation room, Derek being faced with the realization that his colleagues were about to uncover a secret he’d done everything in his power to bury for good. Hotch had been careful then not to say anything, once he figured it out, once he saw that frightened angry look in Derek’s eye. He couldn’t turn off the camera then and he wouldn’t ask Derek to do it now. Derek’s secret had remained between the two of them and Gideon, nothing in the paperwork, nothing in any files, nothing in the trial. Buford was tried for murder, Derek didn’t have to give details and Hotch planned to keep it that way. He had a feeling Derek had since shared it with some members of the team, after going through therapy, after working through it, but that was for him to decide when and where and if he did it at all.

Hotch looked into that room and knew Perotta would give him none of the same courtesies. If he could only have one thing, if he could just not walk out of that room to an audience, he could manage. He’d be okay. That would be enough.

“You ready?” Derek asked and Hotch nodded, setting his jaw. “Good. Let’s get this over with and go home.”

Hotch grabbed the door handle, setting his palm against the cool metal and pressing down just hard enough to push it inward. He squared his shoulders and walked in with as much confidence as he could muster, given the roiling storm in his stomach.

Read the rest on AO3!

[rhoorl]

Week in Review | Nov. 12

Hi there! How’s your November going? I can’t believe we’re already almost halfway through. The time change has been kicking my ass this week, although it has meant that Baby Rhoorl now goes to sleep at a more reasonable time…for now.

Ok, here’s the recap…

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

It’s the Sniffles by @undercoverpena - I was in a mood for some sweet Frankie and Jo delivered with this sweet fic of Frankie taking care of a reader who came down with a cold.

Give Up the Bagel by @nerdieforpedro - Again, I wanted some sweet Frankie and found this on my TBR list and it hit the spot!

Marcus Pike

Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo - EL! Congratulations on ending your series! I have loved following along with Marcus and Ella and I was just swooning over their travels these last two chapters!

Dieter Bravo

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings, my sister in Dieter. I am so excited about this fic she has cooking up, Closed Position.

Jack Whiskey Daniels

Two Fingers of Whiskey by @morallyinept - This fictional cowboy just does things to me. I can’t help it. Also, what Jett is able to convey in 496 words is a triumph (especially coming from a long-winded bitch like myself 😉)

Two Left Feed by @linzels-blog - I had never thought about Jack line dancing and now I have and I can’t get it out of my head.

Tim Rockford

Steep is the Mountain by @sin-djarin I’m in a Tim Rockford spiral as of late, and a fic like this one only helps fuel the feralness. So thank you, Becca. 

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog 

I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest I’m almost all caught up, now I’m just one chapter behind!

Posts from the week:

Self Care with Dieter & Jett is always a highlight each week!

@goodwithcheese is a tremendous artist and made me absolutely laugh out loud with this depiction of @legendary-pink-dot’s Hinterland (which is a great read by the way!). 

Putting a little plug here for these fun pencils by @fuckyeahpaperco! I already ordered the Javi and Joel set and I NEED the Frankie set!!

Feral corner:

This gif continues to fuel thots. As does any mention of Sequins!Joel (thank you @trulybetty). Frankie Friday got off to a hot start thanks to @intheorangebedroom. And then there’s this set of photos. I love picking up little things that Pedro does across characters, like this. Here’s your reminder (as if you could forget) that this photoshoot exists. Seriously, thank you Esquire, and everyone who made it a reality.

There’s been a lot of Benny Miller on my feed this week (thank you to those who tag me to make sure I don’t miss a post 😘). But this little moment from Triple Frontier gets me every single time. And I have to throw one in with the baseball cap.

Things I watched:

I went to the movies to go see The Marsh King’s Daughter. Would I normally have seen this movie? Probably not. So why, Jess did you go? Welp, because Garrett Hedlund was in it. I did a little movie review of it in case you missed it.

Personal Stuff

Because @maggiemayhemnj asked so nicely, I'll share a couple of months from the 2024 Pedro calendar I've been working on (this will replace the calendar my coworker got for my cube).

Week three of my health journey. I’m really trying to not stress about the scale this time, but I did reach a little milestone this week which is encouraging. 

Mr Rhoorl and I are going to the Ice Nine Kills/In This Moment concert soon and I'm so excited. We saw Ice Nine Kills earlier this year when we went to Metallica, but it was a huge stadium. I'm looking forward to seeing them a bit closer. And In This Moment always puts on a good show. We've been debating how many times we've seen them, I think this will be the third.

Anyways, I'll be trying to listen to set lists all week to prepare. It looks like my favorite song isn't on the list but I'll keep listening to it anyway:

Fic updates:

Delta Landscaping Chapter 9 came out this past week and I’ve been plugging away at Chapter 10 - for the Frankie fans, I hope you’ll like it because he gets a bit of a spotlight. I’m also adding in two more PPCU characters too (just mentioning them by name at this point).

Thank you as always for reading and interacting!

Masterlists

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

[angelst4re]

hi! idk if anyones ever requested this, also this is my first request. i've been reading the little stories you've written for like since last night at like 8pm and its 2pm the next day. anyways! do you think you could do something where the reader has their own band(them, their brother and two friends) and reader has a 1 year old and has like been with jamie for a good few months and the kid wants to join us on stage? smthn like that! i love your stories as well, so fuckin addicting bro. <3

hi my love!! i'm so happy you like them!! okay this is absolutely adorable. i wrote a whole backstory to this then deleted it because i thought it was too long and now i wish i kept it because it feels too short :(

For the Thrill of It- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: you're in a secret relationship with jamie and there are rumours going around about it, so with the help of your daughter you let them all know the truth!

warnings: none!

note: 300 FOLLOWERS???!?!?!!!?!?? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!1!! I DIDN'T EVEN THINK I'D GET 3!!!?!!??

You began dating Jamie four months ago, although you’ve known him for quite some time. He was friends with your brother a few years ago, they were even in a band together. However, life works in mysterious ways, and they lost contact for a few years, and both went on to live their lives. Jamie became an actor, but still pursued his music career. Your brother (Daniel) still had a passion for music, and you even joined his band when you turned 22. 

Your band ended up being quite successful, having a few chart topping songs, even going viral online. You met your boyfriend at an afterparty and started dating not long after. Looking back on it, you feel like things were rushed as you fell pregnant after not even a year of knowing each other. But you were young and in love, so you kept the baby, wishing for her to grow up with both parents around- although that didn’t happen. 

Just after Gracie was born, her father left, leaving you to look after her by yourself. Although your brother stepped in to help, offering you and your daughter a room in his house, which you were more than happy to accept. But there was one thing you weren’t expecting. 

“Jamie’s going to be staying for a while, we’ve known each other since college, you remember him, right?” Daniel asked, introducing you to the blond. 

“I think so…” You say, racking your brains for any vague memory of him. “Bob Dylan tattoo? On his bum?” 

“That’s the one!” Daniel laughs, “he’s super nice, though. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anyone weird stay here while my little sister and niece are here!”

You got along very well with Jamie and became friends almost instantly after he moved in. You would stay up after putting Gracie to bed and watch movies together, he would recommend some and you would recommend some since you both had similar tastes. He would even offer to babysit for you when you and your brother would go out to meetings to discuss the upcoming tour. You trusted him, so you left your daughter in his care.

After a few months of living with your Dan and Jamie, you had realised you caught feelings for your new friend. You tried to ignore them, especially after what happened last time you got into a relationship, but it was impossible. Everything about him was perfect, and it just made you fall for him even more. 

What you didn’t know was that he felt the same way. He had planned one night for your brother to take Gracie to see her grandparents, this is when he would ask you to be his. He asked around: your brother, your friends, everyone, to find out what your favourite flowers were, and what your favourite food was. So, when you came home that night, you saw the kitchen table decorated with candles, flowers and he had cooked your favourite meal. 

After dinner, he had told you how he felt, and you told him you felt the same way, however you were still afraid of getting into a relationship too soon, especially because you knew how the media would react. So, for the time being, you had decided to keep it a secret. Although, that didn’t keep the media from speculating, especially when he came on tour with your band. You were so happy you had him with you, as it meant he could look after your daughter whilst you weren’t there. 

Gracie adored Jamie, almost as much as you did. He always made time to play with her when she would give him her teddies, he was there when she took her first steps and even helped her to walk, he would read to her when it was time for bed, he would play music and have dance parties, he was the type of father she needed, and you were so happy that he was there. One day after work, you had come home to find them both fast asleep on the sofa, you almost cried because of how sweet it looked. You couldn’t wait to see what the future held for you three. 

However, it was difficult to keep this relationship a secret from the rest of the world. The two of you had almost held hands whilst on a walk once, and that’s when you realised you needed to come forwards and say something, to tell everyone the truth, to stop hiding. The internet was currently divided into people who thought you were dating Jamie and people that thought you were just friends, but tonight you were ready to put an end to the rumours. 

While you were on stage performing your final song of the night, you gave Jamie a quick smile as he stood with Gracie at the side of the stage where no one else could see. She kept pointing at you, and you knew what was coming. You stopped singing and motioned your hand to say ‘come here’, at this, Gracie began running across the stage to you, her noise cancelling headphones falling from her head. You grinned and looked back up at Jamie, who was wiping a fake tear from his cheek. This was the first time she had ran without tripping over.

“As you all might know, this is my daughter Gracie,” You say, crouching down to her height, “Gracie, baby, do you want to say hello to everyone?” You handed her the microphone and she had a massive grin on her face. 

“Hello love!” She said, waving to the crowd, she sounded just like Jamie. Everyone in the crowd 'awed’ and laughed at how she sounded like a cute grandma. 

“It’s Gracie’s second birthday soon, and one thing I know she’ll want for her birthday is to be able to go out with her mummy and mummy’s boyfriend without everyone posting rumours on the internet… so, Gracie, who's mummy's boyfriend?” you look to the side and send Jamie a big smile.

"Jamie!" She says with a big grin, looking over to where he stood.

"Do you want to come out, love?” You ask, taking the microphone back from Gracie.

As Jamie walked out onto the stage, you covered your daughter's ears, anticipating the screams from the crowd. Jamie kissed your cheek as you stood back up, and he picked Gracie up as she reached her arms out to him. 

“Can you cover her ears quickly, baby?” You ask Jamie, who nods his head.

“So there you go. There’s the truth,” you smiled. “If you want to judge me, call me some names that I won’t say in front of my daughter, then fuck you. But to the rest of you out there, thank you for being here tonight. I love you! Good night!” 

Gracie waves to the crowd as Jamie walks with her to get ready to leave, and you weren’t far behind.

“You realise everyone’s going to be talking about this for the rest of the week?” Jamie chuckles, kissing your forehead. 

“I know, but we won’t have to keep it a secret anymore. We can take Gracie out and not have to keep a distance, we can go on dates, we can-”

“Get ice cream?” Gracie asks, playing with the bracelets on your wrist. 

“Ice cream sounds lovely, y’know.” Jamie says as he nods his head, “good call, Gracie.” 

“Let’s go, darling!” Gracie says confidently, taking your hand and leading you out, obviously she had caught that word from Jamie too. He looks at you with a big grin on his face. 

“Yeah, let’s go, darling!” He repeats, chuckling as you make your way to the exit.

[2-the-moon-and-2-saturn]

“your hand is the only part of you with only minor injuries and the doctor [healer, whatever] is right there and will get mad at me if I move you”

There's your prompt for SC, please. You may spread your love forever now. ☺️

okay so i may have taken some creative liberties + merged this with another prompt i've had sitting in my asks... (also on ao3)

-

“No snuggling,” Alex calls out, without taking her eyes off of the strip of fiberglass she’s been working on. 

Kara groans, dropping back onto her chair. She assumed she was out of her sister’s field of vision. “Remind me what rules we agreed on before I let you in here,” the oldest Danvers demands, in an insufferably righteous tone.

“Don’t distract the patient,” a terribly bored Kara recites. 

“And?”

“Don’t bug you.”

“Exactly. And by constantly trying to invade Lena’s bed and possibly disrupting this entire process, you’re doing both,” the doctor announces while placing the strip onto her patient’s broken leg. She looks up at the overly dramatic Kryptonian who’s been acting like her girlfriend is in need of emergency surgery ever since they arrived. “So I urge you to please, for the love of all that is keeping me from smacking you in the head right now, stop.”

“If you smacked me in the head, I wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences,” Kara grumbles under her breath.

Like any self-respecting Director of a secret government organization that fights evil every day would, Alex throws a roll of gauze at her sister.

“Rule number three: don’t be a smart ass.”

“You two are children,” Lena chuckles weakly before turning to face the younger Danvers. “Darling, I’m fine. It was a silly accident, and I’ve dealt with much greater medical misfortunes in this lifetime.” She turns to the redhead, “Alex, thank you for your aid; I’m sure there are much more pressing matters you could be tending to at this moment.”

“You’re having your leg immobilized,” the blonde balks in disagreement, the same time as Alex mumbles something about family coming first without taking her eyes off of her work. 

It’s been nearly a decade since meeting Kara and her abnormally tight-knit group of friends, yet Lena still isn’t sure what to do with that word, so she focuses on replying to her Earth’s Champion without seeming too affected by the warmth that’s taken place in her cheeks. 

“Which is a perfectly common occurrence among those of us who haven’t been granted invulnerability by the radiation of a young star.” Lena extends the arm that didn’t suffer a wrist sprain towards Kara, who, upon taking it, finally aquiesces and sits back down – bright blue eyes watching her with such care, Lena maybe wants to cry a little. She keeps talking instead. “If anything, my ego suffered the worst of it. I can’t believe we’re spending our Sunday in the Med Bay over something as silly as a bit of Halloween preparation gone wrong.”

Truth be told, it is nearly funny how, over months of fighting numerous enemies, the most dangerous battle Lena’s taken part in featured her sense of balance, and a ladder. With Halloween fast approaching, Kara’s excitement has been growing exponentially, and for weeks, she’s watched TikToks of “decor inspo”, then proceeding to eagerly present her favorite ones to Lena – nevermind that they live in an apartment most people can’t even see. 

Of course, Lena relented (happily agreed, more like, because most things that put a smile on her beloved’s face also put a smile on her own). And next thing she knew, she was hanging up purple and orange fairy lights while Kara took a shower break – while performing quite the Taylor Swift concert, by the way. The rest, as they say, is an embarrassing flavor of history.

“Hey,” Lena’s hand is delicately cradled by both of Kara’s; maneuvered until her palm is exposed. Soft lips meet her skin in a gentle kiss, and she looks up at ocean eyes once more. “Any Sunday with you is a nice Sunday.”

The clattering of metal prevents the youngest Luthor from finding a suitable response to blabber out.

“And, thankfully, I’m done,” Alex announces before making a beeline for the door.

Kara giggles, “She’s so extra.” 

Lena’s flawless eyebrow arches in response, “Nia’s been teaching you new slang?”

 “Yeah!” The blonde grins, “I’m cool now.” For all her qualities, Lena isn’t sure her girlfriend has a ‘cool’ bone in her body (which, to her, is perfect- he never fit in with the cool kids).“You’ve always been cool to me, darling”

“And you’re beautiful,” is delivered with butterfly kisses to Lena’s fingertips, which reverberates in her stomach, “and smart, and incredible; and you really don’t have to beat yourself up over this.”

“I- I’m not-”

“You are, a little,” Kara tilts her head as if in question, and Lena gives a minute nod. There’s no reason to lie – it’s no wonder the youngest Luthor has a few problems with failure and making a mess. “And that’s okay. I love you all the more for your less-than-accurate calculations.”

“So you’re saying I made a mistake, are you, now?” The corner of her mouth ticks up in a challenging smirk, and Kara can’t help but be pulled in a little. 

“Mhmm. I think so,” she answers confidently, if a little dazed by the forests that Lena’s eyes hold, then plants a kiss onto the tip of her nose. “Come on, scooch over; I want to be closer to you.”

Already having been leaning into Lena’s space, Kara plasters herself onto the side opposite Lena’s injuries, an arm over her midriff, hands still intertwined. She barely settles her head next to Lena’s when the intercom nearly jolts her onto the floor. 

“I SAID NO SNUGGLING!”

The blonde sticks a tongue out to the security camera, then nuzzles deeper into Lena.

“You’re not the boss of me, I can do what I want,” she declares, then proceeds to fry the devices with just a tad of heat vision.

And- yeah, maybe letting Kara, in all her clumsy glory, near Lena’s drying cast is not a great idea. But, to be honest, the cocoon she finds herself in is far too warm, and far too cozy, for her to be making safe decisions. 

-

thank you very much for the prompt and a special thanks to @autisticlenaluthor and @apple-knees for proof and beta-reading as well as brainstorming with me <3

[zahri-melitor]

Crossposting but I just finished my 2023 Fic Roundup and Analysis.

I often end up doing these late, so look at me getting this out in January for once! (Didn’t want to put it out in December while I was still publishing)

Previous years: 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022

I like to ask myself some questions about what I've written in the past year. Here's my thoughts.

Stories published: 13

Fandoms published: 3 (technically if you look at my AO3 tagged fandoms for the year it’s 8, but I’m just going to group all the DCU together).

It’s ended up being my biggest year in terms of story output; being back in a fandom which is causing me brainrot as far as prompts go and where I have a bunch of mutuals has definitely been helpful for the writing. My longest finished fic ever is now 24,306 words, and I’ve cleared 40k this year. 

In terms of my all time stats: I’ve got three new stories in my top ten as far as kudos go (at 5,7 and 9 as I write this): all the Vorkosigan has dropped below 10th now.

Most popular story: there’s an endless road to rediscover. Given how I wrote this then fussed worrying for several months over what its reception would be, I’m glad it went well, especially as it was my first time tackling Damian characterisation and I wasn’t confident with him yet. It’s doing better than I expected, ranked next to everything else. 

Favourite story written: Um. Hmmm. Part of me wants to say Orange Juice, because I just really enjoyed how fast that one came together, but really it’s the picture frames have changed and so has your name, no question. My most ambitious project, the source of so much brainrot and theorising. The day I figured out how the solution to ‘what happened to Dick’ (because that was the last big moving piece that came together to make the story work - the solution) was a wonderful one, because I kicked my feet with delight and then had to work really really hard not to reveal the secret to everyone I immediately wanted to tell how clever I was. I was SO SMUG.

Best reception: the picture frames have changed and so has your name definitely gets the award here. Everyone was super nice about it, I got to see so much theorising, it’s currently sitting on 116 comment threads, and honestly all the support to push through and get it written was worth it. Came out so good! You were all really generous!

Favourite underrated story: Tea for Two. I just like the balance of how much stuff I layered into it and that it was detailed enough I sent someone who I KNOW is hugely into No Man’s Land scurrying off to the comics to check I had got certain details correct. It was a fun write with very specific goals to hit, and stylistically exactly what I like doing. I also love the concept of the Mother’s Day series and am thinking through what additions I want to make to it in 2024. 

Favourite title: I actually really enjoyed some of my title choices this year, but I absolutely cannot go past I’ll hold your memory in my hands tonight in terms of title. I came up with it, then I giggled, then I thought about how dark the joke was, then I giggled again. Helena held the thank you letter from Tim! Barbara held the plushie of Tim! Dick held Tim’s brain! I’m so awful.

Hardest story to name: bones of a dinosaur, bones of a city I honestly did not know what to call this story, so I ended up essentially opting out of naming it. I think it works, and has joined the storied realms of ‘story titles I’ve invented quotes for’.

Themes I noted in my stories this year: ‘Let’s write about mothers and sisters’ popped out a lot. There’s a lot of death (and discussions of deaths), which unfortunately ties back into the mothers and sisters thing. And a lot of Tim and his relationships with his older siblings: Dick, Barbara, Helena and Cass.

Commentary: well look who fell back into DC fandom and wrote fic. The bunnies attacked and the fandom itself enjoys short stories. On top of that I had, hmm, two ‘sort out the draft I have sitting here and publish it’ stories that went out this year. Becoming Miss Burgeson had been hanging around as an idea more than a story since I finished Invisible Sun in 2021, because not only is Rita Douglas a fascinating character, but also there are SO MANY identity shenanigans over the years in the Burgeson family. Erasmus’ comments on being a Burgeson in particular were the heart of the fic (because everyone forgets Erasmus ALSO is an assumed name). Nobody using the name was born into it and everyone chose to adopt it as a cover. Now Rita’s not nearly the most complex figure here (Miriam’s name situation is even wilder), but due to the complexities of Miriam/Helge’s names, Rita acquired three extra surnames by the transitive nature of being Miriam’s natural daughter. Actually I SHOULD sit down and work out what Rita’s braid name should actually be. I also dusted off Just Skate Figures enough to post the main bits of it, because I was tired of not having the Axel and Minami scene, at least, posted where other people could enjoy it. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for telling on my sister for not logging her full hours at work?

For a bit of context I, 17, and my sister, 14, have a bit of a rocky relationship. Our childhood was a bit rough and we coped with it in different but equally bad ways. One thing that we both used to be really bad about was yelling and saying not so nice things to each other, though I can't remember the full extent of this on my end because I was really heavily dissociated at that time, but I know hers a bit more, because unlike me, she has never stopped. Its gotten better, but not much. It is still bad enough that I will walk out of rooms of she is in them and I am irritated at something else because it will end badly. I am a lot better about it, though I still get passive aggressive at times, and am still working on the finer aspects of not accidentally saying mean/dismissive things.

One thing we have been clashing with recently is her job at a local farm. Its under the table even though she is of working age where we live, and she gets paid 8$ which is below minimum wage where we are. She has also been expected to work a couple of times past 10pm alone and in general, her jobs just has a lot of red flags which I have pointed out. It is a frequent topic when I pick her up and she always without fail, gets pissed at me. Like yelling at me in my car that she knows what she's doing and that I shouldn't care. I still do as her older sibling but shes 14, what do you expect.

Tonight it all kinda came to a head when she asked me how many hours she should report thst she worked for the month, 58 or 64. I asked her how many she worked and to just put that, to which she told me she worked around 80. Her days and hours do line up with that from what I know do I told her to put that. She started going on about how the owner of the farm needs that money to pay the other people who work there and how there have been some days where shes only worked 3 or 4 hours. I gave her the benefit of the doubt on that even though I rarely pick her up earlier than 8:30-9pm, much less 7, but my dad also drives her so I didn't fight on it and said in that case she should log 70 and make sure she starts marking in her phone when she starts and stops for the day. She yells at me a bit that its none of my business and eventually tells me that its too late since she already told her boss it was 60. Now, this is where she really got angry, I told her that I was telling our dad then because he would never let her make a decision like that. She is now even more mad and when we pull up to my house she says I don't have to worry about it and that she will just tell him, still yelling at me mind you), and stomps up to our house. So I pull what was most likely a petty move and text my dad right then. I would havelet her tell him but she has lied in the past before about that in similar situations and every time I've gotten in trouble for knowing and not telling him. He is currently on nightshift so I couldn't tell him in person, which is why I texter.

After this my sister went to my stepmom, and went off about what happened, how I was in the wrong, how it isn't any of my business, and how I should have kept my nose out of it. My stepmom does say she is right in that it isn't my place to say something, but that she shouldn't be lying and underreporting her hours. My dad called about it about an hour after I sent the text and after getting a quick rundown from me, called her. I don't know what is happening from there, but I am now really doubting if I should have said anything. She needs to learn the value of her work and refuses to listen to me about it, but I also want to have a better relationship with her and think this may have fucked it up.

What are these acronyms?

[allaganexarch]

ASKS hmmmmmmmm 5 / 8 / 20 ?

👀👀👀

I just need to say I love that these eye emojis are coming into my house sdkjnfjnkfknjf they're so big and for WHAT tumblr LOL! Saving 5 for the end so I can readmore the snippet!

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

kjndfsnjkdfsknjfsd literally the only things I'm weird about writing are smut ideas okay!!! and they're not even that weird it's me i'm the problem!!!!!!!!! So idk, the LiandrinxReader fic will probably be a nice challenge for me on that front, and who knows, maybe this is the year the Hawkedith light bondage fic sees the light of day. oh actually you know what for a non-smut idea I've always wanted to do a tropey time travel fic! but i think i would make myself insane LOL. maybe this will be the year!!!

20. Any plans to work on original fiction this year?

OHOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! It's honestly so hard to choose and prioritize what to work on!!! I have 2 big original ideas, both of which I have rambled at you about extensively LOL. I think I can make a good chunk of progress on the nano nonsense fic this year, since the style is pretty firmly in my wheelhouse and I have a pretty strong idea of the main plot through-line. We'll see how I'm feeling, but I think once I get a few of my lingering fanfic projects done I'll be ready to focus on my original things again! Month-long challenges like nano actually work really well for me when I can manage them, so I might try to do something like that eventually to make some significant progress!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

Again, it's soooooo hard to choose and prioritize!!! Scorched earth is in general my top priority because I just don't want to drag it out too long--before the most recent time my schoolwork beat me to death w a stick I was under the delusion that I could have it almost finished by the new year LOL! But since it's fairly simple in structure and I have it pretty clearly planned out, I mostly write chapters in one or two sittings. Second priority is advancing/finishing ghost of you, since the next chapter is literally almost done, I just got too busy to work on it. But instead I shall offer youuuuu Liandrin x Reader nonsense! It is once again a long snippet because I cannot just be normal.

--

You heard a lot about Liandrin Sedai during your first year or two as a Novice.  There was a rumor, never confirmed but nonetheless ubiquitous, that a Novice had died under Liandrin’s tutelage not long before you had arrived.  As a result, she was no longer permitted to teach Novices.  Furthermore, it was suggested, Novices would do well to avoid her.  Reasons for this varied somewhat, from ‘lest they remind her of her very recent tragedy’ to ‘lest they become the next unwitting targets of her deadly ire.’

You’re sure you never saw her in all that time, though, and eventually you heard the story repeated less and less, only really trotted out when new students arrived to the White Tower.  You learned later that Liandrin had left the Tower for a long while after the incident of legend.  It’s common for sisters of the Red Ajah to take extended leave, and the unfortunate fate of the Novice in question had certainly not impeded her ability to perform the functions for which she is best-suited.

You have also learned since then that for every extended absence, there is a corresponding extended stay in the Tower, particularly for the powerful and influential.  Liandrin is quite popular, if perhaps controversial in some circles, and it has thus been impressed upon her how very much her talents are needed within these walls for the foreseeable future.

Nevertheless, you are nothing short of shocked to see her perched atop the teacher’s desk when you arrive for your afternoon lesson.  You glance out the window, perhaps to catch a glimpse of the dire emergency that must have incapacitated so many Aes Sedai that Liandrin has been deemed a suitable substitute.

Liandrin is technically allowed to teach Accepted students.  Technically.

Liandrin herself looks about as pleased as any of the Accepted.  She pays you no mind as you enter, her piercing gaze fixed on some imagined point on the far wall.  Her arms are folded, her lips are pursed, and it looks like she’s biting the inside of her cheek.  Given her storied reputation, this understandably puts most of the students ill at ease.

“No need to trickle in,” she says, so sharply that you notice a few students flinch.  “You’re all in the right place, I should think.  I am Liandrin Sedai, and I will be overseeing your practice for the afternoon.”

She says all of this as though each word causes her great distress, gaze still fixed somewhere above the students’ heads.

“I am unaccustomed to teaching, and it’s been a long while since I was Accepted, so you will have to forgive me my unfamiliarity,” she continues, but gives absolutely no impression that she is asking forgiveness for anything.  “Adeline Sedai was not generous enough to inform me which weaves you are currently studying.  Would anyone be so kind as to enlighten me?”

The room falls eerily silent.  You cast a surreptitious glance toward Briallyn, who is usually the sort to raise her hand at any opportunity.  She is gazing at Liandrin like she is something inhuman and incomprehensible.

You swallow your nerves and raise your hand.

Liandrin turns her head sharply.  “Yes?”

“Weaving Spirit,” you say, although your voice falters under her exacting gaze.

“Weaving Spirit,” she echoes with a mocking lilt, inclining her head and smiling with false sweetness.  “Could our esteemed little sister perhaps narrow it down, just a bit?”

You feel your cheeks flush hot.  “The basics, I mean,” you stammer.  “Just starting.”

Liandrin scoffs.  “I suppose I should have known better than to expect anything more than that,” she says with a theatrical sigh.  “What was our dear Adeline Sedai having you do, just…” she waves vaguely, “pick at threads of Spirit out of nowhere?  No direction, no purpose?  No wonder it’s taking so long.”

She points at you, and you nearly startle out of your skin.  “Come forward.  Since you’ve been kind enough to volunteer.”

You can hear a low whisper of fear starting up around you as you obey her command, feel the eyes of your fellow Accepted upon you although you keep your head bowed low.  You are shy and unused to this kind of attention.  You can feel your face flushing all the way up to your ears.

Liandrin is perfectly average in stature, yet somehow seems to tower over you through her presence alone.  She ducks her head to catch you eye, and now her subtle smile bears no tinge of mockery.  “Look,” she bids you, gesturing out toward the classroom.

You attempt, quite unsuccessfully, to swallow down your embarrassment.  You look.

“Your classmates are afraid of me,” Liandrin observes, with the kind of neutrality one expects of a particularly uninteresting weather forecast.  “No doubt you’ve all heard stories about me.  Or, should I say, one in particular?”

You glance surreptitiously in Liandrin’s direction.  Her eyes are alight with cruel amusement.  She is enjoying this.  She leans in toward the class, as though to share a secret.  “Let me assure you that what you’ve heard…is absolutely true.”

The whole class visibly recoils, and the frightened whispers culminate in horrified gasps, followed by a deafening silence.

“Look at your classmates,” says Liandrin.  “The same way you would look for threads of fire or water.  Look for their fear.”

A part of you considers that you can see their fear perfectly well without looking very closely at all.  Another part of you is preoccupied with the way Liandrin’s eyes light up watching people recoil from her.  But you know from experience that Liandrin has very little patience, and she will not be pleased if she has to repeat herself.

You tear your eyes away from Liandrin and look, focusing on the class as a whole rather than trying to stare at any one person.  You squint and tilt your head, think of the frightened whispers and all the different versions of Liandrin’s story you have heard repeated over the years.  Some of your classmates are much younger than you, and their precocious talents allowed them to graduate to the rank of Accepted sooner than most.  They must have heard the story of the Novice who died under Liandrin Sedai’s tutelage very recently, and they do not have the benefit of experience to tell them that Liandrin means them no actual harm.

You think you start to see it then, something red and wrong hanging about them, brighter in some places than in others.  On instinct you reach out to pull at the threads.

You are not a talented channeler.  Threads do not respond well or quickly to your beckoning.  But the threads do come to you, slowly, and in this aspect alone, Liandrin is endlessly patient.

“A useful trick, to draw upon strong emotion,” says Liandrin.  Her words are for the benefit of the class, but she speaks quietly, and she is standing close enough to you that her voice makes you shiver.  “Spirit is that which is not strictly tangible, and yet you can feel it, can’t you, when there is a room full to the brim with terror?”

You can see the change in some students then, the ones who understand that this was, at least in part, a play upon their emotions in an unusual effort to educate.  You see the shift not in their faces but in the threads you are attempting to weave, a subtle change in the color and shape as fear gives way to confusion, or brightens into excitement.

You can’t help but wonder what others see, when they look at the color and shape of your own emotions.

New Year Fanfic Asks!

[k--havok]

sorry ive been dead for the past week+ a LOT has happened again so complaining under the cut i suppose.

2024 keeps giving me whiplash and it's like I cannot get a break. I finished my TMS therapy finally and like. I have no idea if I am doing better or not but at least its over with. I'm dreaming again which is nice. And I finally got my sleeping pills back but I've been off them for so long that I now have to readjust to them and its been kinda difficult. Pair that with all the sleep debt I've accumulated and it's been a bit rough. At the very least this is the first weekend I've had in over a month where I have not been taking 3 hour long naps every day so that's good.

What's not good is the fact my estranged aunt on my dad's side of the family died in what looks to be an OD. Horrible way to go. I was not close to her at all as my dad's side of the family is certifiably nuts and I want nothing to do with them, but now there's an issue with inheritance regarding my aunt. Her older sister, and my other aunt, is supposed to contact me regarding said inheritance as its supposed to be 50/50 but she has not yet. Which is no surprise really as she is a very greedy person and will try and cut me out of whatever I am owed. So I may have to get a lawyer or something. Idk. My mom is going to help me out with this but this is just another headache I will have to deal with. Luckily, due to the TMS therapy, my anxiety is managed so I'm not panicking about this yet but. Still. I just want this to be over with.

My patients at work have also been difficult. Not personality wise but they've just been so complicated. They come to us half-dead on their last legs and it's heartbreaking but with all the comorbidities I can only do so much to help them. I ain't jesus and I cannot perform miracles. I get home from work and just pass out in bed since I'm so emotionally and mentally drained. It doesn't help that I've found out that some of my previous patients have died not long after seeing them and I really do not need to know that. I do not need existential dread at 2:00 AM while staring at brain waves.

Aaand I've just. Been trying to rest I think. I've been so stressed out these past few months that the little brain power I have left over has been going to video games, cooking, and managing my kitten. Writing has been pushed out of the way which is sad as I do have ideas and think about my blorbos often. But I cannot seem to put any of that mental energy into like. Actually fleshing out their stories. Instead I think about stupid shit or smut which is lovely but unhelpful.

Hopefully I'll come back from this mini hiatus soon. Sometimes an epiphany will hit me like a train and I'll jump in feet-first back into writing and interacting here. But it may take a while, as I am an extreme introvert and it's hard for me to interact with more than one or two people at a time.

I'll just. Continue to work on it through therapy and hopefully that will help me along.

[astriiformes]

@squidaresquishy replied to your post: My wool for Andreas got here today and it's so

where do u buy actual nice quality historically appropriate fibers (wool, linen)??? all i can find on the obvious sites like joann's or craft stores are like… weird polyester faux-flannel or cotton

So I have a fancier answer, a slightly less-fancy answer, and significantly less-fancy answer, both because it's good to spread your net wide regardless and also because as a cosplayer/costume-maker without much money, I've found that sometimes you have to get creative.

I bought my wool for my Andreas costume from Pendleton Woolen Mill because a friend who lives near them and is working on the same costume tipped me off to a clearance sale they were having. They're an example of a nice, high-quality seller that I usually couldn't afford to buy from where timing made all the difference (and I will absolutely be watching their site for sales in the future). Other stores I've heard friends recommend that sell natural fabrics, some of them specifically catered to historical costuming, include Burnley & Trowbridge and Silk Baron, and the other day while doing research for Andreas, I was poking around on the Historical Costuming subreddit and came across this list, which looks solid. On the whole I don't have a ton of recommendations though, since I rarely have the money to buy fabrics from more specialty retailers.

(Oh, and it's not fabric, but if you're ever looking for leather, Tandy Leather is another great place to get historical costume materials)

The slightly-less fancy answer is that I buy most of my cosplay fabrics, historical costuming ones included, from a local fabric outlet, which is not something every city has but has been an absolute treasure trove for me. They sell everything at 50% off and have some very weird finds (like the metallic linen I used for my Golden Guard tunic), but it's also been a good place to look for natural fabrics. I found nice silk and wool there for my sister's Cassandra de Rolo costume, and it's where I'm hoping I'll find another wool for Andreas' jacket. Even if your city doesn't have a fabric outlet, it may have local, non-chain fabric stores that are worth investigating (though the affordability may vary). I found out about the place near me through other cosplay friends, so asking around in local crafting and cosplay communities may lead you somewhere. If you're looking for historical fabrics specifically, I'd consider bothering the local SCA chapter about local recommendations!

Last though -- nice fabrics can be found in weird places. As a poor cosplayer who is usually trying to figure out the best way to hit the "nice materials" and "affordability" sweet spot, I've made a habit of checking out local thrift stores and yard sales for fabric whenever I can. Sometimes that looks like nabbing a $2 sheet to sew a cloak mock-up out of, but if you're persistent you can sometimes make pretty incredible finds. A few months ago I found a plain white linen curtain set that I nabbed knowing I would want for a costume at some point, and sure enough now my current plan is to use it for Andreas' shirt. It cost me maybe $8, which is insane for that amount of linen -- but not for thrift store curtains. The biggest challenge with this method is knowing what you've found. In that case I lucked out and the curtain tag was still attached, telling me they were a 100% linen blend, but sometimes you have to get more creative. We're big fans of the "If something looks and feels suspiciously like wool or linen, buy it, bring it home, and set a small piece of it on fire to test it" method in my household (natural fibers burn, manufactured ones melt; it's a legit test and you can read up on it!) but that does require a certain familiarity with wool/linen/etc to be able to pick out likely culprits. If you can make it work though, this is absolutely the cheapest way to get natural fabrics, and I've found it to be very worth my time.

I hope some of that helps! In general a "leave no stone unturned" method where you nab fabrics from a few different places works well, as does being willing to employ a little creativity. Best of luck with your own projects!