#if i were a kid like you insulted me as then I might have taken everything you said much worse. even then ur still talking to a real person

[gothiccat69]

Sorry mate, misunderstood.

I'm glad I could explain clearly enough for you to understand.

I don't want another very long post, so I'm putting everything else I have to say in the tags.

[highvern]

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?” 

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?” 

“Because I just do.” 

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t date.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him. 

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[jazzyoranges]

Sam carpenter x reader with the song birds of a feather by Billie eilish maybe friends to lovers

Birds of a Feather

Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sam are best friends. until you aren’t

Words: 8k

A/n: ok we kinda went off script with this one but i’d describe this as friends to lovers with a few bumps. is friends to not friends to lovers a trope?

A/n 2: i have something to confess. i’ve never seen scream 5. that might be very evident in this

Warnings: intoxication, usage of drugs, Richie Kirsch, Sam deals with some hard shit, crying, ghostface aftermath, not a warning but Tara is a cutie, mention of a dead parent, maybe ooc sam cause i’ve never written for her and probably should’ve made a less lengthy fic so i could get a feel for her character but wtv 🤷‍♀️

“Hey- What the heck! What was that for, Sam!?” The young boy yells when Sam pushes him off the swing

“You jerk broke my friend’s crayons. She really liked them!” Sam points a finger at the boy, who’s now dusting himself off

“Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” He smiles a wicked grin. At least, what would be considered wicked in kindergarten

“I’ll never let you on the swings again!”

“I don’t see your name written on it!”

“That’s cause you’re stupid and can’t read!”

Tears well up in the young boys eyes. He blinks them away, running to tell on the teacher him and Sam share. Sam didn’t care, he deserved the insults anyways

“Sammy? What did you do to Carlos?” You run up to Sam, who’s glaring at the back of Carlos’ head from her seat on the swing

“I pushed him. He broke the crayons your dad gave you!” The Carpenter pulls you into a hug, not wanting to let go

“I know he did Sammy, but it’s not nice to push people” You reciprocate the hug, pulling back a bit to see Sam’s face and how her forehead was wrinkled with her eyebrows furrowed. You thought she was cute like one of your stuffed animals

“It’s not nice to break something that doesn’t belong to you! I did it because he was mean to you”

“You’re going to get in trouble! Mrs. Poppy doesn’t know you were trying to protect me”

“Then I’ll tell her, and Carlos will get in trouble too”

“Samantha Carpenter.” Your teacher’s voice was stern. Nothing like the sweet teacher you were used to. You backed away from Sam’s hug but you don’t go far. You hold her tiny hand with your own and make sure to stay close, rubbing her hand in hopes of comfort

“Is it true you pushed Carlos off the swings and said some mean things?”

“Yeah, but he was being mean to (Y/n) first! He broke her new crayons her dad got her! Mrs. Poppy, (Y/n) was really sad” Your dad couldn’t get you many new things due to being a single father. Especially new school supplies. Usually you’d reuse the crayons you didn’t lose or break from previous years or borrow some of Sam’s

On most days you took the bus home with Sam while your dad was off working his ass off to get you dinner every night. Your dad and Sam’s dad were good friends so Mr and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t mind taking care of you until your dad was able to pick you up from their house. Luckily you two lived in the same neighborhood. Some days you thought all of the stars aligned for you and Sam to be friends

“Is this true?” Your teacher shoots a look at the boy next to her. While your teacher was the nicest woman you ever met, she had a deadly glare. You were happy you weren’t on the receiving end of that stare

“N-No…”

“Carlos if I find out you’re lying, you’re going to be sharing the same punishment as Sam.” Mrs. Poppy seems to calm down a bit, entering her nice teacher mode once again

“F-Fine! I did break her crayons” Carlos pouts, crossing his arms

“Thank you for telling the truth, but what you did was wrong. You also did something wrong, Sam. Instead of pushing Carlos off the swing, you could’ve told me and I would have taken care of it” Your teacher bends down to look at the two kids in the eyes

“Sorry, Mrs. Poppy” Sam and Carlos say in unison

“Thank you, you two. I know you two are good kids and know what’s right”

Your teacher leaves with Carlos next to her and you can hear her faintly ask why the boy broke your crayons in the first place

“I like having you as a friend, Sammy” You hug the girl, who’s long since stopped swinging

“I like having you as a friend too, (Y/n)!” Sam beams. Her smile was one of your favorite things ever

“Can we play house?”

“Yeah! I’ll bring my bear next time so she can be our baby!”

//-//

“I can’t believe you can name your sister!” You were over at Sam’s house a few months after her baby sister was born. You didn’t know what to call Sam’s little sister considering… she didn’t really have a name. It was up to Sam to pick a name but of course she was a Carpenter, wanting the best name for her sister. As a result, her baby sister had no name

Until today, that is. Sam was finally making a decision today

“I don’t know what her name is going to be yet” Sam reaches out a finger to her baby sister who happily grabs onto it with curiosity

“She likes you a lot, huh?”

“She knows I’m her sister”

“Maybe I could help you come up with a name! What’s your favorite letter?”

“I like the first letter of your name but I don’t want it to be that! I need to think of something different”

“I know you’ll think of a wonderful name, darling.” Sam’s mom strokes her on the head as she rocks the small baby in her arms

“Do you have another favorite letter?” You ask

“Uh… I like T?”

“What about Triceratops!” You giggle

“Her name can’t be Triceratops, silly!” Sam smiles

“Tennis?”

“(Y/n), those aren’t names” The now older Carpenter giggles along with you

“What about Taylor? Oh! There’s a girl in our class named Thalia?”

“I want it to be different, though! I like those names but Tara needs to be special.” Sam’s eyes go wide in surprise. Maybe her brain just knew her baby sister was supposed to be named Tara

“Tara?” You repeat. “That’s a pretty name! Hi little Tara!” You wave at the baby in her mom’s arms

“Is this official? Is Tara your choice, Sam?”

“Yeah! Tara is a nice name. She looks like her name would be Tara”

“She does, doesn’t she? Such a pretty name you chose, Sam. Honey, come here! We have our daughter’s name!” Mrs. Carpenter yells for her husband

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sam smile so wide before

//-//

“Hey, Sam?”

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t you scared of middle school?“

“No, why would I be? Middle school should be scared of me” That was your Sam alright. The most fearless person you knew. As far as you knew, she was scared of absolutely nothing. Not even the dark. Which is why you were reluctant to stay outside on your trampoline after sunset. Which is also why you were curled next to Sam as she pointed out all the different stars

“What if we stop being friends?”

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/n)” The Carpenter pinches your cheek and you yelp while giggling, shoving her hand away

“If we stop being friends, which we won’t, I promise I’ll let you have all of my stuffed animals”

“Woah, really?”

“Yes, really

“Every single one of them?”

“Yes, every single one of them” Sam rolls her eyes

“Even Ghostie?” Ghostie was the panda stuffed animal you got Sam for her eighth birthday. Technically your dad bought it for her but you picked it out

“What! You’re not supposed to take a gift back, I like Ghostie”

“Well, you can give me all of your stuffed animals and I’ll just give Ghostie back to you”

“That makes no sense, why wouldn’t you just let me keep it?”

“Cause then you wouldn’t have given me all of your stuffed animals and kept your promise”

“You’re weird, (Y/n)”

“Hey, so are you! That’s why we’re friends”

“Yeah, I guess so” Sam giggles

The sliding door to your house opens and both you and Sam turn to look who’s there. It’s your dad

“Hey, girls! Sam, your parents are leaving now. Best you go with them, eh?”

“Okay! Thank you, Mr. (Y/l/n)” The Carpenter waves to your dad

“Wait, let me go with you inside! It’s scary out here”

//-//

“Sam! What if we get caught out here?” Your words held concern but you couldn’t stop laughing as Sam dragged you under the bleachers

“Shhh! They’re gonna catch us!” The Carpenter put a hand over your mouth and put one over hers so she’d also stop laughing when both of you sat down on the underside of the bleachers where the grass was

Both you and Sam were currently in seventh grade but there was an eighth grade couple that was constantly terrorizing the younger kids. Sam being Sam, she wanted to end their reign.

How did she want to end their reign? By breaking the two up. Sam slipped a note in both of their lockers about meeting to break up during one of their classes, causing both of them to skip. Your job was to lead a teacher to their meetup and if everything went right, then they would be successfully broken up and in detention.

Both of you hear footsteps and see the couple at the meetup spot. The teacher wasn’t far away, all you had to do was rile him up a little and run away. Did you feel a little bad? Maybe. But in your defense the couple was always making out in the hallways and made everyone passing by uncomfortable. For gods sake, it was middle school! Not high school

You and Sam were far enough away you couldn’t hear them but their body language was enough for the both of you to understand. Your plan was going perfectly. You and Sam were more the vigilante type, not the heroes or the villains

The couple exchanged pointed looks and flailing arms, hopefully arguing about the note. You and Sam wrote… not the nicest things in there

The teacher eventually arrives out of breath but the couple is too busy yelling each other to notice how he’s standing over them. He looks to clear his throat and to their horror, they stop fighting. Success!

“Yes! We did it!” Sam says a little too loudly from the position you two were in. Their heads turn in your direction and you know you’re caught when the teacher stars walking towards you two

“Hey! What’re you two doing there under the bleachers?” His ragged voice yells

Shit.

//-//

“Sam? What’s wrong?” You run to the Carpenter, who’s outside under a tree eating her lunch. Usually she’d wait for you but today seemed different

“Get away from me, (Y/n).”

“Sam, don’t be like that. You know me, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You and Sam didn’t share too many classes in eighth grade. Even then, your friendship still didn’t seem to falter. You’d still hang out after school and help each other study. Sam lashing out at you was never really a problem you two had

“No! You don’t know anything.” Sam shoves you away when you try to put your hand on her shoulder. “You’re useless.”

“Sam, you don’t mean that. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”

“Yes I do! We always talk to each other, Sammy. Even if I’m not going to understand, I can still listen”

“Don’t say that stupid name.”

“I thought you liked Sammy?”

“See, that’s the thing with you! You’re always so stuck in the past. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re not being very nice right now”

“Yeah? Well you can deal with it.” The last thing you expect Sam to do is push you onto the ground into a patch of dirt.

“We’re done. I’m not your friend anymore.”

“Sam- we can talk about this” Tears pool in your eyes. You try to get up but all that happens is a crawl

“We can’t. You’re weak and pathetic and can’t do anything without me.”

Sam doesn’t look back when you say her name through tears. Sam doesn’t look back when she hears a few laughs and whispers directed at you. Sam doesn’t look back.

//-//

“Heyyyyy (Y/n)!” Sam’s voice slurs over the phone. It was almost one in the morning, what the hell was this girl doing? Not to mention this is the first time she’s even talked to you since middle school. And yet, you still answered without hesitation. Damn you really needed to grow a backbone

“Sam? What’s going on?”

“Nothingggggg whut’re y’doin?”

“I was trying to go to sleep then you called me. Where are you?”

“Why’d y’wanna know? You’re not my momma!”

“Are you drunk? Sam, you’re underage!”

“No fun… I’m wif my friends! We at a partayyy!”

“Whose house are you at?” Grabbing your keys, you race to the door. Your dad was asleep and you only had your learners permit but you couldn’t just hang up on your Sam like that.

“Uh… Tristan? He’s in our uh… what class is he in?”

“Math. Tristan from math, got it” You knew where he lived. You tutored the guy as requested by his parents but he paid you more money to stop coming to his house than his parents did for your tutoring business. How could you say no to free money?

Thankfully he wasn’t far. Thank god for that, you weren’t one to drive at night

You go faster than you hope but luckily you don’t get pulled over. You really didn’t want to go to overnight jail and face your dad the next morning but surely he would understand the circumstances you were in. He knew you, he knew Sam, he knew the devotion.

At least that’s what you told yourself on the way to Tristan’s house

You could hear the house blasting bad music from about four blocks away. It was a wonder how the police hadn’t shown up yet. Unless he paid off them too. You wouldn’t put it past the guy

Were you invited? No. But in all the movies you’ve watched - said movies being Mean Girls - random people just showed up and nobody cared enough to kick them out. So you walked up to the door like you were invited and instantly started looking for Sam

The music was so loud you could feel it in your lungs and couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t imagine this was the scene Sam was willing to put herself in but then again you hadn’t talked to her in years. Maybe under all those layers she was a party animal at heart

You internally laugh at the thought. Like hell Sam’s actually a party animal

After a bit you find Sam snorting some drug that probably shared the name with a sexually transmitted disease. Grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, you drag her out of the house while her friends groan and call you a party pooper.

“Hey! Wh- what’s wrong wif you!?”

“We’re going home, Sam. I’m taking you home”

“No! T-Tara can’t see me. Wanna go somewhere else…” Sam struggles against your grip. She’s always been stronger than you but in her intoxicated state you could probably carry her like a sack of potatoes if you tried hard enough

“Fine, I’ll take you to my house. You can spend the night”

“Noooo, wanna party…”

“We’re going home, Sam.”

In all of your years of friendship with Sam, she’s never seen you so stern before. The Carpenter keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the car ride.

After lots of trial and error, you eventually get Sam out of your car and into your bedroom with much difficulty. Thankfully your dad was the heaviest sleeper you knew. You search for a shirt and shorts that fit Sam, ignoring her protests of not wanting to sleep

Against your better judgment, you now have your intoxicated ex-best friend in your bed as her sobriety was nowhere to be found

“Why did you call me, Sam? Even in your state I know you couldn’t do that on accident”

“Ugh, friends made me. Wan’ me t’call my first crush”

“What?” You’re taken aback. Did you hear her correctly?

“Tired… m’sleepy”

You sigh, bringing your hand to Sam’s face to stroke her cheek. Your heart breaks when the older Carpenter leans into your hand like a touch starved cat. You wished things would go back to normal but Sam was stubborn. She wouldn’t let you in no matter how many times you tried.

“Go to sleep, Sam. I hope I’ll see you in the morning” You’re only met with small snores

You wanted to hate Sam. You wanted to hate Sam with all your heart for pushing you away and not even looking at her sister anymore

You wanted to hate Samantha Carpenter so badly but you couldn’t

//-//

It’s nine thirty in the morning when you hear a knock at your door. It was a Saturday. Who the hell was up this early? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and attempting to smooth out your hair with your hands, you begrudgingly walk downstairs to the door. Your dad was at work already and usually you weren’t up at this hour

Looking through the peephole, you don’t expect to see Tara Carpenter in tears at your door.

“Hey what happened, sweetheart?” You bend down to meet Tara’s eyes. They were red and puffy, evidently showing she was crying a lot. And a lot before she got to you

“S-Sam, she-“ Your heart broke when Tara couldn’t let out even a few words without hiccuping and sniffling

“You can tell me later, darling. How about we drink some juice and you can tell me what’s happening, yeah?”

“No! S-Sam’s…” There seemed to be a never ending amount of tears flowing. “She’s gone, (Y/n). She’s gone and she’s gone for good.” Tara runs into your arms, staining your shirt with her tears.

“What do you mean, baby?”

“M-Mom said Sam left a-and isn’t coming back…” Your heart breaks when Tara’s breathing gets quicker and isn’t able to catch her breath

You pick up the younger Carpenter, taking her to your couch. Tara’s on your lap and you’re holding her just like her mom probably did when she was born. It was something your dad always did, even when you got older. Sometimes people just needed to be babied no matter how old they were.

So you start rocking Tara. She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping her alive and you move her ear to your heart. Placing her head under your chin, you hum a tune that was familiar to you. A lullaby your mom always sung to you before she died

You kiss Tara’s forehead with tears in your eyes. You saw how Sam changed and you couldn’t help her. You knew this day was going to come and you couldn’t stop it. But how could you?

When Sam looked at you with such hatred and anger, you’d wonder if she was still the same Sam that pushed Carlos because he broke your new crayons. When you saw her high out of her mind with people that didn’t care about her, you’d wonder if she was the same Sam that watched the stars with you on your trampoline. When you looked at Sam all you could see was what you two were. Was your Sam even still in there there?

You felt disgusted with yourself. You could’ve done something and yet you did nothing.

You’d never see best friend again and Tara would only remember her sister as hateful and unloving. Memories of Sam would go sour until you only had Tara and Tara only had you as a reminder of who Sam used to be.

When the younger Carpenter sees you also crying, she somehow manages to hug you tighter than she already has. What a lovely girl Tara was.

“A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?” The brunette says in a small voice

“Can I be honest with you, Tara?” You earn a nod from the small girl

“No. I’m not okay. But you know what? I’ve got you and you got me. Thank you for telling me.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Mom says she isn’t coming back. Sam didn’t talk to me a lot but I miss her.”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Tara. Did you know that? Please don’t ever lose it for me.”

“Will Sam come back?”

Your breath hitches and for a second you’re left without words in your throat and without knowledge about the future.

“Yes… she’ll come back. Sam just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tara’s mom comes storming in a second later with an out of breath angry expression that slowly softens when she sees how her daughter is nestled in your arms

“Tara, you can’t just run away like that. You made me so scared, you know I can’t run as fast as you” Her mom presses a kiss to her forehead

“I had to tell (Y/n), Mom! She’s Sam’s best friend and she deserved to know”

Her mom brought a hand to Tara’s face to wipe a few stray tears. With her other, she placed on your shoulder with a small nod. Sam was gone. She was gone for good.

//-//

Sam spends her first night away from home in her car in a neighborhood she didn’t recognize. The first night Sam leaves, she holds Ghostie in her arms and hopes it’s enough to keep her safe.

//-//

“You’re hiding something”

“What?” You and Tara always hung out ever since Sam left. Her mom hasn’t been the same since her husband walked out. You offered to be one of Tara’s caretakers to help her mom with the load of being a single mother without Sam or her husband’s support

Your dad wasn’t home very often but every now and again he’d give you random tips on how to raise a teenager. At least, tips he used when he raised you. At first he was skeptical of you taking on the role of caretaker at such a young age but when you employed Tara to use her puppy eyes, it was a losing battle for him.

So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Tara was all yours. You’ve been doing this since you turned eighteen and could confidently drive without being nervous at all. Also mostly because you couldn’t be her guardian in the eyes of the law under eighteen

There was a void in Tara’s heart and while you couldn’t fully replace her sister, the least you could do was be there. Which is how you knew something was up when she started picking at one of the things she loved so dearly. Your cooking.

“I know you’re hiding something, squirt”

“You’re crazy, I’m not hiding anything” Tara scoffs

“Hey, I’m not decades older than you. I know when you’re lying” You hated pulling the ‘I used to be your age’ card but now you’re realizing how effective it is when you’re only six or seven years older than Tara

Tara throws her head back, groaning in what seems to be frustration and covering her face. You can’t hold back your snicker. The younger Carpenter was always one for theatrics

“You don’t have to tell me but I could really help you, you know? With how super knowledgeable I am, as you know”

“Knowledgeable my ass, you didn’t know your microwave had a popcorn button until I told you”

“In my defense, I heard you’re not even supposed to use the popcorn button for popcorn”

“Then why is it called a popcorn button?”

“I dunno. Maybe the same reason why Greenland is called Greenland”

“What?”

“Deception. The guy who found Greenland named it that cause he wanted more people to come over. I bet he was lonely”

“Why do you know that?” Tara says in between laughs

“No clue, but we’re getting off topic!” You smile. “The point is, you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from me.” You reach over to pinch Tara’s cheek and she tries to swat your hand away, ultimately failing. “Well, big secrets. If you cheated on a test or something I don’t care that much”

“Thanks, (Y/n)”

“No problemo, squirt”

So now you were back to silently eating dinner except for your TV playing some sitcom Tara liked. You could handle the quietness. Even if Tara didn’t want to tell you, at least she knew you were there to listen. That’s all that mattered

“(Y/n), I think I like a girl.”

//-//

“What was Sam like?” Tara says out of the blue. “I was thirteen when she left but she didn’t really talk to me. What was she like… before that?”

It was another weekend night that consisted of spending time with Tara. The question catches you off guard

“I don’t think you’d believe me, squirt”

“Well I wanna know anyways. Even if i believe it or not”

“Did you know Sam named you?”

“She did?”

“Yeah, Sam named you Tara. You were unnamed for a while before she came up with anything.”

“Mom said she was mean. Is that true?”

“I mean yeah, but not entirely. When you’re friends with Sam, she’d be the nicest person you’ve ever met. Hell, she’d probably kill for anyone she loved. But when someone messed with a person she loved, nothing could stop her from making her loved one feel better”

“I wish I could’ve experienced it.”

“Trust me, you did. You just don’t remember it. One time when you were little, a kid that was around Sam’s age at time pushed you into the mud at the playground and Sam was furious” You laugh

“You cried and Sam could hear you from where we were playing soccer. She found him and kicked his ass so hard he crawled back to his mommy so we took you and booked it out of there”

“She did that?” Tara covers her mouth laughing, failing to cover it up

“I remember it like it was yesterday, squirt. Sam gave you a piggy back ride and you were giggling the entire time we ran home.”

//-//

“Fuck, Tara! Shit, I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? Oh my god, of course you’re not okay.” You barged into Tara’s hospital room without any concern of who else was in there. You took her face in your hands and scanned for anything wrong until you brought her into a bone crushing hug. “Sorry, stupid question. Holy shit I’m so happy you’re alive, squirt. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Okay maybe in the future I will, but the future is not now! Right now I’m never leaving you again.”

“You’re such a fighter, you know that? Holy shit you must’ve been so scared. Tara you’re the strongest person I know, did you know that?” There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You don’t even notice there are other people in the room.

“Deep breaths, (Y/n). I’m okay. Look, I’m right here” Tara takes one of your hands and puts it against her heart. Your eyes can’t hold in your tears any longer. When you cried, you rambled. Tara was ready for the storm.

“Fuck you’re such a sweet girl, Tara. Even when you’re lying in a hospital bed you care about me. I don’t know what monster would do this to you! He obviously doesn’t know what a blessing to this world you are. Please promise you’ll never let anyone stop you from being the beautiful sweet girl you are.”

There it was.

You felt a hand rub your back and your arm. You assumed it was Tara. Until you heard a hum that wasn’t Tara’s. Until you realized this person had rough hands. And oddly smelt like…

“Sam?” Your head whips around

“Hey, (Y/n). I… I missed you.”

“Sam?” You let go for a second and bring your hand to her face. Not in a cute or romantic holding-her-cheek-way, no, you pinch at her cheeks and nose with a questioning look. You poke at Sam’s forehead and nose, still probably in disbelief. Yeah, you were still her (Y/n).

“Please don’t tell me both of you are dead and I’m actually in a psych ward and this is all a dream” You whisper and you can hear Tara laugh behind you

“No, this is all very real.” Sam smiles, taking your hand off her face and gently putting it back by your side. Your eyes go wide and you whip around to look back at the younger Carpenter

“Tara, can I take my attention off you for a second? Will you be okay?” You whisper, knowing damn well Sam could hear you

“Yeah I’ll be okay, (Y/n). Go hug Sam.”

You press a kiss against Tara’s hairline and immediately after, launch into Sam’s arms. Tara could feel it again, you were going to start crying and rambling.

“Sam, I can’t believe you’re here! Well of course you’re here. I always knew you’d come back! I knew you wanted to come back. I don’t know why you left, but I hope you achieved your goal and came back because you missed us. Also I’m really mad at you but for the sake of time we can discuss that at a later time.”

There it was.

“You two are close, huh?” You don’t notice there’s a man with curly hair in the room and you raise an eyebrow at Sam

“Yeah, very close” You say

“Sorry, I should introduce you two. (Y/n), this is my boyfriend Richie. Richie, this is (Y/n). My…” Fuck. Sam couldn’t just say you were her best friend after all these years. After she made your life shit, was she even allowed to call you her friend? What if-

“Best friend. Happy to meet you, Richie”

“Likewise” He smiles. There’s a pang of a certain emotion in your chest you can’t quite place

“Well, I’ll be going now. Feel better soon, Tara” Richie waves at the younger Carpenter and gives Sam a kiss before he leaves Tara’s hospital room

“Do you know if my friends are visiting soon?” Tara asks you. Sam doesn’t know how to feel when she sees Tara treating you more like a sister than her. She knew it was wrong. Sam had no right to be treated like a sister after she just up and left all those years ago

“Amber told me she was getting some of your things from her house. The twins are coming over right now, okay? I think you’ll feel better when you see them”

Sam felt like an alien watching you and Tara talk. Watching you two was like watching everything she’s missed. Sam missed almost all of Tara’s high school experience. Arguably one of the most important times to have an older sister. She shouldn’t have been jealous. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous after all she did to you and Tara

“How’re you feeling right now? Anything I need to tell the doctors?”

“No, I’m feeling okay”

“Hey, can I talk to you outside, (Y/n)?” Sam says almost above a whisper

“Yeah, of course.” You turn to face Tara as you walk out her room. “See you in a second, squirt. Don’t run away” The brunette rolls her eyes at your words

“Guess I owe you all my stuffed animals, huh?”

“You still remember that?” You raise an eyebrow at the girl

“I do. I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“An explanation would be appreciated” You weren’t mad at Sam per se, just very very very disappointed. Mostly at yourself for letting her leave

“You remember when I yelled at you that day in middle school? I said I didn’t want to talk to you or be your friend anymore? It’s not an excuse, but I have an explanation.”

You nod along to Sam’s story, listening close

“The night before I yelled at you, I found out my dad wasn’t really my dad. I was going through my mom’s diaries I found in the attic and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I.. I found out I was-“ Sam doesn’t realize she’s crying until she chokes on her words and your expression falters. Sam remembers you were always good at comforting people

She’d always get bruises and scrapes when she was younger but you were always there to make her feel better. Fuck, she can’t remember why she would ever leave you. You were the perfect best friend. Always an inviting smile and open arms that were ready for hugs. The only one that stuck with Sam through whatever happened.

Sam was at her lowest of lows when you picked her up that night during the party. She remembers wondering why she’d put you so much pain and worry. She smoothed out the wrinkles on your forehead while you were asleep and felt guilty she was probably the cause of them. That night when you picked up Sam from that party and you had your arms wrapped around her, Sam asked herself why she would ever push you away. She loved everything about you. She loved you.

In her drunken state she remembers wanting to fade away into your memory. At least then you’d remember the Sam that played tag with you and not the one that snorted or drank away her pain. It was the same night she decided to leave everything behind. She decided to leave you behind

But Sam was selfish. She wanted you to tell her not to go. To come back into your arms and for you to tell her everything would be okay. That it didn’t matter she was the bastard child of a serial killer. It wasn’t her fault her dad left. Reassuring her you and Tara would love Sam the same. In a perfect world Sam would’ve still been Tara’s sister and you would’ve been her-

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to tell me. If this is hurting you so much then I understand why you wanted to run away. What matters is that you came back. You’re strong for that” You pull Sam into your arms, letting her cry into the side of your neck.

Sam didn’t have the heart or the voice to tell you it wasn’t the story making her cry. She feared her voice would fail her and drive you away again. Sam would tell you why she left later

But right now, Sam was happy to be able to bask in your arms once again.

//-//

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Mhm?” You and Sam were back at your house getting some things Tara wanted

She requested the teddy bear Amber got her for her birthday, a blanket from her bed, and something better than hospital food. You decided to whip up something quick and simple you knew Tara liked. Frozen orange chicken from the store and fried rice

“I think I can tell you about why I left now.”

“Are you sure? I’m not gonna force you to tell me if it hurts so much to say, Sam”

“No, you of all people deserve to know. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m the same person that said all those horrible things to you and just never talked to you again without explanation.”

“Hey, don’t worry about all that. It’s in the past now and I know you’ve changed. I forgive you-“

“No, (Y/n). You can’t forgive me. You can’t make excuses for me and talk to me like we’re best friends again when I ignored you because I was mad at myself and- and-“ Sam chokes on her words and can’t hide it when you glance at her.

“Oh, Sam…”

“No, you can’t forgive me yet. I betrayed your trust. You can’t forgive me.”

“Sam, I accepted your apology when I saw you in Tara’s hospital room. Whatever you were going to say, I already knew I’d forgive you all the same.”

“Stop saying that, (Y/n). You don’t always have to be nice, you can be mad too.”

“But it’s true, Sam. If I’m mad at someone, I’m mad at myself for not fighting for you harder”

“How can you still look at me even when I left you. Years of friendship, all down the drain because I couldn’t handle being the bastard child of a serial killer that broke her family apart.” You turn off the heat to your stove, walking over to where Sam was curled into herself and sitting near the bottom of the staircase

Taking a seat next to her, you drape your arm around her shoulders and attempt to get her to rest her head on your shoulder. Sam doesn’t let you and fights back.

“Samantha Carpenter, you have been gone for five years. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, not including leap day. You aren’t allowed to push me away again. If you really want to say sorry, you can start by letting me in.” You take on a faux-mad tone and it seems to work

Slowly, the older Carpenter leans into your shoulder with a sigh. She makes herself comfortable and looks at you through her eyelids. It was weird. Five years out of Woodsboro and four years away from you, yet you still opened up your arms like nothings changed. It was odd. You were odd.

“What’re you thinking about?” You’ve always had a knack for reading Sam’s mind. Whenever she got quiet and her heart looked like it slowed, she was probably thinking

“You.”

“What about me?”

“How I don’t get you”

“What don’t you get about me?”

“I haven’t talked to you in nine years, I show up unannounced, and you’re still acting like we’re best friends even after all this time. I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or weirdest person ever.”

“Can’t I be both?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. You realize it doesn’t work when Sam shies away from your gaze

“Well, I can be honest. I think it’s because I’m selfish.” That makes Sam look at you again so you decide to keep going

“Of course I’m… disappointed you broke up our friendship and you left without telling me and left your sister and I to believe you were never coming back,” The older Carpenter winces at your words but you don’t let her stop looking at you. Even as you avoid eye contact and place your gaze somewhere else.

“But there’s a part of me that wants everything to go back to normal. I know we’re going to have to talk about it. About us and about why, but right now I think what we need to do is be there for Tara. She’s in the hospital after being attacked by a serial killer and the last thing she needs is her older sister and her best friend fighting. We can do all the yelling and crying and screaming later.”

Taking a breath in, you look back at Sam who’s already looking at you. I’m makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand.

“And maybe that’s my excuse. Maybe I never want to cry or yell or scream at you. Maybe I’m putting off the inevitable because I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe Tara is my excuse for not being mad at you. Maybe I’m holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist anymore. We’re different people than when we were in middle school. I don’t want to cling to a person that doesn’t exist anymore yet here I am, clinging to someone that doesn’t exist like she’s my lifeline. But in all honesty, I don’t think I could stay mad at you for too long. Even if I tried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” There’s a silence that passes between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or comfortable silence. You hope it’s the latter

“Do you get me a little more?”

“Well, not entirely. But I think it’s a step.”

“Yeah. Steps are good, aren’t they? Keep you healthy.” Sam smiles at your stupid joke.

You don’t miss how Sam still reminds you of looking like one of your old stuffed animals.

“What was Tara like?”

“What do you mean?” The question catches you off guard. The Carpenter sisters seemed to have that in common

“I missed a lot of her life. What was she like?”

“I don’t think she’s changed a lot. Tara is a sweet girl, she’s got a good head on her shoulders and a good heart in her body.”

“But that’s probably not what you’re asking. Tara was… distraught when you left.” You pick your words carefully. “She ran away from her mom just to tell me you left. She said I deserved to know since I was your best friend. It took a while for her to want to let go of me me. It’s when I knew I just couldn’t let her stay like that forever”

You shakily sigh before continuing. You’d have to acknowledge the elephant in the room eventually and you decided it was going to be now. “I know I’m not her real sister. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking a role that was supposed to-“

“Are you kidding?” Sam quickly cuts you off when she registers what you’re saying. “If anything, I’m happy it was you.” The Carpenter lifts her head up from your shoulder to look at you. To really look at you. “I know she has a good person to look up to. I’m happy you two are close.”

You’re about to respond when your ringtone goes off. The same ringtone you had in high school. Some Evanescence song you remember religiously listening to in school blasts from your phone. Usually it was Tara who found it embarrassing when you had to answer it in public but this time it was you with the reddened cheeks. Scrambling to find your phone in your pocket, you pull it out to see it’s Tara calling you

“Hey squirt. What’s up?”

“Are you guys going to hurry up anytime soon? I’m starving”

“Yeah we’re leaving just now don’t worry about it”

“Okay but my stomach is currently eating itself”

“You’ll live. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Don’t go running anywhere”

“At least I don’t run jokes into the ground until they’re dead… pun not intended”

“Hah! Proof you’re taking after me whether you like it or not”

“Whatever, I’ll see you soon. Run red lights if you have to”

“You got it, boss. See you soon” You pocket your phone, getting up from where you’re sitting. Offering Sam your hand, she takes it and you help her up too

“C’mon, our little girl’s hungry. That’s something you should know, she’s got an appetite the size of an elephant and a metabolism as fast as a cheetah” You smile, putting Tara’s food in a lunchbox you had in a random cabinet somewhere

Sam doesn’t trust her voice to do anything but break so she laughs at your comment and you both leave your house

Sam thinks our little girl has a good ring to it.

//-//

“Oh my god. Tara? Sam?” You narrowly avoided the police yelling at you to get away and the caution tape that prevented you from coming any closer. What used to be a house that held fond memories had been replaced with one that only caused you worry. You couldn’t lose both Tara and Sam. You couldn’t lose your favorite girls.

Sam texted you to come over to Amber’s house. That it was a Ghostface emergency and the speed in which you jumped in your car rivaled The Flash himself

“(Y/n)!” Sam’s voice. You run to the sound, dodging and weaving through the paramedics and police officers telling you to leave

Sam finds you with bags under your eyes and your hair a mess. It looked like you were in your sleepwear. Even though you were just in a band tee and plaid pajama pants, Sam feels the need to wipe the blood off her face and clothes to look a little presentable. You always had that effect for some reason

“Sam.” You breathe a sigh of relief, running into her arms. Your choked sobs reach her ears and it’s the saddest sound she’s ever heard. Sam squeezes you tighter. Maybe if she did she’d never want to leave again

“You’re back and you almost left me again. Don’t you know how mad I would be if you died?” Pulling back, you put both of your hands on Sam’s cheeks like you did so many years ago. “You- you-“

“Hey, shh… I’m here. I’m here, sweetie. See? I’m here and I’m never leaving again.” Sam leans her forehead against yours, putting your hands around her waist so she could wipe the tears away from your face.

“I’m here, yeah? We won. They’re gone now, (Y/n).”

“How’re you sure?”

“They’re dead. Both of the Ghostfaces are dead.”

Sam leans in, awfully close for someone who’s just your best friend. Your mind instantly goes to her boyfriend. You know what’s about to happen so you back away, a little weary. The Carpenter furrows her eyebrows looking a little sad, oddly resembling a kicked puppy.

“What about Ric-?”

“Don’t say his name, it’ll ruin your perfect mouth” Sam cups your cheek, running her face over your bottom lip

You have to fight your body to not get hot at her words and actions. “Yeah but- he’s kind of your boyfriend. Where is he?”

“Ex-boyfriend actually. He’s dead, I killed him.”

“Oh. Am I right for assuming that’s a god thing?”

“Very good. He was one of the Ghostfaces”

“One of? Who’s the other?”

“I think Tara should be the one to tell you”

“Well, I didn’t like Richie to begin with. He gave me an odd feeling”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sam leans in closer to you, a ghost of a kiss hanging in the air waiting to be taken. Sam smiles against your breath and for a fraction of a second you think your heart has stopped beating.

“He got to kiss you before I did.” Something snaps in Sam when you kiss her. A craving she’s always had, a certain desire finally being filled, or maybe even her dreams coming true.

You hold Sam like she’s about to leave again, pulling her impossibly close. You’re never letting her go again. It’s Sam who pulls away first. She’s out of breath but you lean in to steal more kisses before she smiles against your lips and it’s an image you never want to forget.

“Please, you two have to stop doing this.” You whisper, your eyes going wide. “Where’s Tara?” You pull away from Sam, whipping your head around like it’s going to help you find her quicker

“C’mon, she’s over here. Be careful, don’t squeeze her too hard”

“I’m going to squeeze that girl until she knows how much I love her.”

“You might break one of her ribs, darling”

“Squirt, you’re alive!” You run to Tara as her head whips in your direction. You can feel tears pool in your eyes once again and you’re okay with letting them go.

“(Y/n), I was so scared. A-Amber she- she tried to kill me.”

“What? Amber? Amber as in, your girlfriend?” You say shocked, taking Tara’s face in your hands to look at her

“A-Amber and Richie, they-“

“How about we tell (Y/n) what happened later? We need to make sure everyone is okay, including ourselves. (Y/n) can wait, right?”

“Oh I can wait alright. I’m the best at waiting. You can tell me about it when you’re feeling better”

One of the paramedics call over the Carpenter sisters and by proximity, you tag along. A man is ushering them in an ambulance and you’re also about to hop in before he stops you

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t let you into the ambulance. We don’t have enough space.”

“That is my little girl and that is my girlfriend. I will either be running every single red light, hang on the top of this ambulance, or so forgive me god for what I’m going to do.”

“O-Of course, Ma’am. You can ride in the ambulance.”

“Thank you, sir. You made a good decision today” You pat his shoulder, taking your seat near Sam. You sling an arm around Sam’s shoulders and reach out to hold Tara’s hand.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Tara weakly smiles, looking between you and her sister.

[carlsdarling]

Heated arguments

Carl and Y/N have an argument, then some make-up sex, and it gets really emotional... More of a plot, and also sex and fluff. Everyone is 18 or over. (This was requested, but the request somehow vanished from my inbox, don't know.)

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex

You were just fed up. Carl's overprotective attitude, the way he constantly tried to control you and forbid you to do things, and you glared at him angrily when he scolded you for going on a supply run with Maggie and Glenn for once and then leaving them to search a pharmacy and getting surrounded by walkers. You'd wanted to search the pharmacy for a few more personal items, including condoms.

"You could have died," Carl told you, his face pale with anger, his jaw tense. "You almost died!"

"No, I wouldn't have died," you contradicted defiantly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Are you kidding me?" Carl's voice pitched. "Maggie told me that there were at least a dozen walkers in the pharmacy when she and Glenn came in, and that you were stuck on top of a cabinet! If Maggie and Glenn hadn't vanquished the walkers, they would have tipped the cabinet over and eaten you alive."

"No, they wouldn't have," you replied against your better judgment. "The walkers would have given up."

Carl stared at you, stunned, his eye narrowed. "Are you really that stupid, Y/N, or are you just faking it?" he insulted you, ruffling his hair. "You know, I may not want to admit that my girlfriend has a birdbrain, but obviously she does," he stated brutally. "No one with a shred of intelligence would put themselves in a predicament like that! And then you get upset that I'm supposedly controlling you? Yes, maybe I do, but the reason is that you're stupid and reckless and can't take care of yourself!" Angrily, he clenched his right fist and punched a locker.

You flinched at his words and his outburst of anger, and you began to seethe inside. "Oh yeah, but of course Carl Grimes The Almighty is perfect! Who puts themselves in danger all the time, on purpose? You do! How many times have I told you not to go into dark stores alone to loot unimportant stuff?"

Only recently you had scolded Carl for going into an abandoned department store just to get an old CD player for you. Beaming like a child, he had presented the item to you and had been as proud as all the times before when he had taken extra dangerous actions just to be able to give you presents - perfume, jewelry, make-up, books, anything he knew you would like. No matter how many times you told him to stop, he wouldn't listen to you.

"At least I can look after myself," Carl replied angrily. "You can't. I forbid you to go on any tours without me!"

You put your hands up indignantly. "You don't have any right to forbid whatsoever, Carl! Fuck you!" you shouted at him before turning around abruptly and running off in the direction of your house.

"Fine!" Carl called after you. "Then do what you want!" Enraged, he marched off in the opposite direction, his hands in his pockets. It was true that he regularly did dangerous things himself - but only to please you and impress you. No, actually that was only half the truth. Carl's missing eye made him feel inferior to the other new lads in Alexandria, and he lived in constant fear that you might leave him for one of them. Carl couldn't bear the thought of losing you, so he desperately tried to impress and spoil you to prove to you that he was the best option for you. Even if it meant risking his life.

You slammed the door behind you in anger and even started cleaning the house in your frustration. Who did Carl think he was?

Not even an hour passed before there was a knock at the door. Standing on the threshold - Carl. You looked at him in silence. "Can I come in?" he asked shyly. Wordlessly, you let him in. "I... can we get along again?" He looked at you pleadingly and his hands were shaking, he was obviously nervous.

"Carl, you called me a birdbrain, I..."

"I didn't mean it that way," he murmured, hugging you and burying his face against your shoulder. "Let me make it up to you?"

Your body responded to Carl as it always did, and you moaned softly as he began to kiss your neck. You were like wax in his hands; you always had been, and you didn't protest as he directed you to the couch in the living room, swept the cushions down and pressed you onto the padding. "Carl, this is inappropriate, we're still in an argument," you whispered, gently trying to push him away.

"I was thinking of some make-up sex," Carl whispered back, and you succumbed to the temptation - even if it didn't solve your problems. Carl unbuttoned your blouse, unhooked your bra and soon had your jeans and panties pulled down too, leaving you naked in front of him. You couldn't wait to see him naked too and tugged impatiently at his belt. Carl stood up to hastily remove his clothes, and before he was about to lie back down next to you, you grabbed his slim hips, grasping his proudly erected dick and giving the tip some kitten licks, then slowly slid his veiny shaft into your mouth and sucked on it.

Carl's knees got wobbly, he inhaled sharply and began to whimper, then he put his hand on your head, tousled your hair and controlled the movements of your mouth. "Oh yes, please," he whispered breathless with arousal. You cupped his balls with one hand and rubbed them while you continued to slowly suck Carl off. Some precum leaked out of his cock and you swallowed it before suddenly withdrawing from him, eliciting a sound of disappointment from Carl. His dick glistened with your saliva as he lay on top of you without further foreplay, gently forcing your legs apart and thrusting into you in one smooth motion. You were more than ready for him and moaned out, your hot, soaking wet walls clenching around his cock. Carl's heart was beating right next to yours as he fucked you with skilled movements. You buried your face in his neck curve, kissing and nibbling his pale skin, while Carl's long hair tickled your face and you inhaled his scent, which intoxicated you as always - the typical, unique Carl scent that made your hormones go crazy.

You lifted your hips. Carl's cock slid in and out with a steady rhythm, and he breathed heavily, again and again he let out those small, adorable moans that turned you on even more. You stroked Carl's back, completely overwhelmed by your feelings for him, it was just you and Carl and your lovemaking, and your whimpering grew louder.

"You cumming?" Carl looked at you, little drops of sweat standing between his eyebrows.

"Carl, oh yes, Carl," you moaned, half senseless with lust. Carl was delighted as always that he was the reason you felt so good, and he would make sure you cum before he did. He withdrew from you almost completely, then slowly penetrated you again, again and again, until you were on the verge of madness. "Oh my God, Carl, you're so good." The orgasm came over you so hard it felt like your head was going to explode , and Carl noticed a new gush of slippery hot moisture welcoming his cock. He quickened his pace, his moans became louder and louder, his thrusts harder and more irregular, then he tensed up, all his muscles tightened, and he had his release right inside your pussy.

Carl stayed on top of you for a while, both of you sticky with sweat and body fluids, and you pressed against him. You two didn't speak until Carl finally pulled his dick out and lay down right beside you. "Are we... good with each other again?" he asked shyly.

You frowned. "The fact remains that you called me stupid, Carl," you said icily.

Carl winced with guilt. "I didn't really mean it. I'm sorry," he whispered glumly, and when you didn't respond, he reached for his jeans, which were lying on the floor next to the sofa, and fished out a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a glittering jaguar. He attempted to hand you the necklace. "Here, I found this when I was scavenging, and I thought..." He seemed anxious.

Anger welled up in you, and you slapped Carl's hand away; the necklace whirled through the air and landed on the ground. "Tell me, don't you get it?" you snapped at him. "I don't want you to keep getting unimportant things for me! You put yourself in unnecessary danger every time! For bullshit like a fucking necklace! And don't tell me you found the necklace by accident!"

Carl blushed and lowered his gaze. "You're right, the jewelry store was full of walkers. It... it's just... well, it's just that..."

You looked at him inquiringly. "It's - what, Carl?" you asked in a softer tone.

Carl struggled with himself, then it all burst out of him. "It's just that there are these new guys in the community, and I can see them staring at you - and at me, with my ruined face. I... what else can I do but go the extra mile to make sure you stay with me? To make you like me? I don't want to lose you, Y/N." Carl's lower lip quivered slightly.

Carl's words touched you and made you sad. He was so insecure about your affection for him that he felt he had to shower you with gifts and attention - even if it meant putting his life on the line. It took you a while before you could answer. Carl didn't look at you, he stared at the ceiling, a single tear trickling from his left eye. It flowed down the side of his cheek and dripped onto the sofa cushion, leaving a dark stain.

"Carl," you said, shocked. "Do you really think I feel so little for you? That I'd leave you for another guy if you didn't make an extra effort to please me all the time? No matter if you risk your life in the process?" You couldn't believe it.

Carl was crying now, and it was the first time you'd ever seen him cry, and it distressed you even more. "I... before those boys came, I was the only one here your age, and... and I was scared that you were only with me, because I am the only option." He sounded bitter. "But now that Ron and Benjamin and Spencer and the other lads are here, well... you have a choice, and why on earth would you pick me?" He sounded completely despondent.

You were completely gobsmacked, and you hugged Carl tightly. "You fucking idiot, you," you said tenderly, brushing his dark hair out of his face and kissing him; his tears tasted salty. "I didn't get together with you because you were the only option, but because I fell in love with you, eye or no eye. And I would never exchange you for another guy. And I don't want you to put yourself at risk to impress me ever again, because I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. Carl, I love you more than anything. I love you for who you are"

Carl looked at you, his eye puffy and red. "Really?" he whispered, smiling at you. It took a load off his mind. You felt him finally let go of his worries and his body relaxed.

You nodded. "Please don't ever do that again," you urged him, pointing to the necklace. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said quietly and stood up for a moment to pick up the necklace from the floor. "But I can still give it to you, can't I?" He grinned mischievously. "It's already here."

You rolled your eyes. "All right," you admitted defeat. Carl put the necklace on you and cuddled up to you again. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered happily, wrapping his arms around you.

--

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @tessasweet @xxcarlswifexx @taylormarieee

[marymary-diva17]

When someone insult you

One way to cause tension and trouble for someone on Pandora will be by insulting one of their family members. As it will show, you disrespect someone you love and care about and think nothing bad will happen to them after saying hurtful words. These hurtful words can have any effect or consequences on anyone involved.

Jake x reader x Neytiri

evil demon women

It was a sunny and hot day you had taken the kids out for a swim near the water for some fun, and relaxation as there was no task for the day. Your spouse had been gone of the day so you were just with the kids today, but you are still enjoying your time with them. Some other families had arrived as it seems like, they all had the same idea as well.

tuk " mama can I have some fruit please I'm hungry"

y/n " sure sweetie" you had take out some fruit and cut in half give some to tuk, as she smiled and eat some of the fruit.

tuk " thank you mama" tuk soon hugged you before she ran off back towards the water.

navi women " look at her that dreamwalker has found a way to infect our clan"

navi women 2 " she acts all high and might just because she mates with neytiri and Jake sully"

navi wonen 3 " she just some evil demon women" you had become sue to everyone words and gossip towards you, as some of them hated the idea that you are with two heroes of the clan. At the moment you are avoid conflict as you didn't wish for any trouble with them.

????? " hey" a voice had been heard getting everyone attention, you soon looked up and saw your eldest son neteyam.

neteyam “ you will not speak to my mom in that behavior”

y/n “ neteyam”

neteyam “ no mama they are being rude and I … we won’t stand for it”

Kiri “ yes they are being rude mama and it should be addressed”

loak “ we not let anyone be rude to our family”

y/n “ kids”

Tuk “ mama says if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say it at all” the group of ladies looked taken back of what the kids had said to them. As you had stood there looking at them as the women seem to be regretting what they had said towards you.

y/n " come on kids lets go home right now we can spend the rest of the day together there"

neteyam " oh yes our dad and mom will be learning of this whole situation, lets hope to has a good outcome for you all"

y/n " come on neteyam"

neteyam " coming mom" the kids had soon walked home with you and you had embraced them into a group hug, proud of them standing up for family.

lo'ak " so are we in trouble"

y/n " no it all good no one is in trouble now come on lets get home, and maybe I can make a very sweet snack for my wonderful kids"

kids " yes" you and the kids had soon gone home as it soon started raining, the kids had been able to keep themselves entertained while you made them snacks. Later on in the day Jake and neytiri will find out the truth of what happened, and they were not happy Jake had to hold back neytiri. The ladies had been order to stay away from you until any other word given from your mates and you.

Jake x tsu'tey x reader x neytiri

Demon

It had started off a peaceful and good morning for you, as you had been working out of the humans bases. You are also enjoying the sun hitting you skin it seems like it was going to be a good day. Now there was only the wait for your kids and mates to get here, as they promised to come over and have morning meal with you.

y/n " they will be here soon should I make some juice for us or maybe pick some fruit ... it can do anything to help with some of the meal" you had decided to pick some fruit and make into juice for the family, as you were picking some fruit you were humming a song.

????? " what is that sound"

???? " I don't know but it coming from over there" you had soon heard movement coming towards you, and soon saw some navi from the clan.

y/n " good morning"

navi women " oh it just you"

y/n " yes it just me good morning as well let hope, the great mother blesses us with a good day"

navi man " she will not need blessing from a demon like you"

y/n " excuse me"

navi women " you heard us you and your demon kind have wormed your way into omadtikayaia clan and have ruined them, by become mates with them and having half navi children"

y/n " I know we have hard time getting along with other navi ...."

navi man " no matter what you do demon you will never be one of us and mostly the demon child you have as well"

y/n " we are not demons"

navi women " yes you are demon and we will make sure no more clan get effected by the likes of you" the demon soon had shoved you to the ground, she was about to grab you again.

???? " mama" tuk soon came running and soon held tight onto you, as the three other kids had came and started hissing at the two adults.

neteyam " how dare you touch my mother and hurt her"

lo'ak " you messed up big time never mess with a sully"

kiri " mama are you okay" kiri and tuk had helped you onto you feet as you soon look, at the two adults.

navi women " looked what we have here two sure born navi and two demon blooded kids"

y/n " you can insult me all your want but leave my kids out of this"

navi women " what are you going to do about demon" the women had hissed at you but she was not acting all pride, when she soon had been take to the floor.

neytiri " how dare you insult my wife and kids"

navi man " hey we were just teaching her and those demons a lesson" the man had soon been punched hard in the face by no other then Jake, and soon someone tossed him towards the women and that was Tsu’tey.

Jake " no you dare speaking to my wife like that ever again, or we will have more trouble here"

Tsu’tey " you two don't have any rights to come near y/n and our kids"

navi women " we were just voice how other feels"

neytiri " then your parents have failed you two on teaching you two to bid your manners, our y/n has done more then you will ever do"

Tsu’tey " no leave and stay out of straight and ear shot if we see you again near here, with our a good reason and causing trouble it will not be good for anyone" the pair had gotten up quickly and soon ran off leaving the family alone.

neytiri " ma y/n are you okay"

y/n " I'm fine neytiri no need to worry thank you all for standing up, for me it makes me feel good"

neytiri " if that women ever come back here again tell me and I will deal with her"

Jake " yes and I and Tsu’tey can deal with her buddy over there"

Tsu’tey " yes we will make them play"

y/n " thank you all but for now more violence at the moment, let go have some breakfast"

tuk " yeah we were able to save mama and now we get breakfast"

y/n " yes we do"

neytiri " we brought some stuff over to cook with as well"

y/n " good now come along" the group soon followed you home, the situation of this morning had soon speed the rest of the clan. it say no one was happy will be a understatement as, everyone was upset about the words that were spoken towards you and the clan. The duo had been made to say sorry by their clan leader and promised to keep their distance from the clan until notice,

Tonowari x reader x ronal

false navi

It a good day in the village a very funny and warm day and the clan was going on with their day. The same could be said about you and the kids, as you are with them near the shoreline collect materials while the kids goofed off here and there. Making you laugh as you had looked at them being kids and making sure to have fun today.

rotox " ahh aonung no fair" aonung and shoved his brother into the water soon, gaining your attention as you look at the two boys.

aonung " oh come on I'm just playing around"

tsireya " you two are so childish" the two boys soon looked at each other and soon smirked, when they looked to their sister and before trsireya could do anything. They had tackled her into the water getting a scream from her and laughs from her brother.

tsireya " hey"

rotxo " oh come on baby sister you should of seen that coming" tsireya soon started a water fight with her brother as you stood there laugh and looking at them.

kids " mama"

y/n " be nice all three of you and not hurting each other please"

kids " yes mama" the kids had went deeper into the water having their battles still going on, as you stood there watching them. You had been standing there for a while before you had waked off.

navi women "excuse me y/n"

y/n " hello how may I help you ladies"

navi women 2 " well us and some of the clan were wondering if you are true navi or false navi"

y/n " excuse me"

navi women 3 " yes after ing the olo'eythan you have failed time to time again, to have a kids with him while ronal has three kids ... are we sure you are actually navi or just some unwanted child the great mother gave your childish parents"

y/n " that is none of your business the great mother will bless me with a child, when the time right"

navi women 4 " are we sure because if you are false navi maybe it time, to have someone become the perfect mate and perfect navi to our clan"

navi women " you have these kids call you mama when you are no a mom to them"

y/n " I will not waste me time with you all anymore good day" you were about to walk away from the women, when big splash of water, had hit the women.

navi female " ahh"

navi women " who did that"

????? " it was me" the group of women and you had looked and saw it was aonung on his IIu.

Aonung " how dare you insult my mother like that"

navi women " mind your manners young man"

aonung " you should mind your manners when you are speaking to my mother, a very import women in the clan"

navi women 2 " we are speaking to her that all"

rotxo " you are being rude toward her and we heard everything you had said"

tisreya " yes and we will make sure to tell our parents about what you said, I wonder what they will think about how you all acted" a crowd had form due to all the fighting that was going on right now.

y/n " kids"

tsireya " you will start showing our mom respect"

???? " what going on here" tonowari and ronal soon had arrived, they soon walked towards you and the kids.

ronal " ma y/n and children what has happened"

aonung " these women were insulting mama mom they called her a false navi"

ronal " false navi"

aonung " yes they said she was a false navi because she failed to give father a child"

ronal " you dare insult my wife like that"

navi women " we had been speaking what is true she has failed to have a child with the olo'eythan"

tonowaro " how dare you speak to y/n like that after everything she has done for the clan, you all make me sick and not only insulting her you insult my whole family"

ronal " my family as well" ronal had gotten closer to the women and hissed at them, making them step back from her as ronal was very mad and so is tonowari.

tonowari " ma y/n are you okay"

y/n " I'm good now"

ronal " you are hear by not allowed to come near her or the children until I and tonowari deem to far enough, and your words and actions today might reflect your families and mates as well"

navi wonen 3 " wait no please"

tonowari " enough the tshaik has spoken I will decide on the offers I was going to give your mates, but for now leave before you all do anything else ... if anyone thinks the same speak now so we can deal with you all" no one dare to speak right now as it bad idea, the women had been escorted away getting glares some everyone else. Your mates and kids had taken you home as they comfort you about the whole matter.

tonowari " dont pay them any mind ma y/n you are the perfect mate, perfect mom, and perfect navi"

ronal " yes and one day you will be blessed with a kid"

y/n " yes I know the day will come"

tsireya " we love you mama"

y/n " thank you kids and my wonderful mates" the family had spent the rest of the day together, having a good time along with making sure you are okay as well. Tonowari and ronal had made sure the group of women stayed far away from you, and the kids their mates had apologized to you and were able not to be affected of what happened that day. You knew the day will come when you will be blessed with the another child in your life and family.

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ; ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖈𝖜: RAPE/NON-CON.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

Finally finished the fic after months of procrastinating.

This fic is not proofread or beta read.

Don’t try this at home, kids!

….And some rape down there. I don’t condone any of this irl (no shit). It is to note that it is part of the story’s progression and I only intend to explore such dark elements like the series always intended to do so in canon.

The “don’t like, don’t read” rule applies here. Kindly heed the tags one more time before proceeding.

“Griffith…I…” you paused as you caught your breath. You were failing to fake self-confidence at this point in time, your legs shaking as you could only watch yourself give into the fear that made its way through your head and heart.

“I…wasn’t expecting your presence here…I….”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed in response, letting out a low hum. He was getting closer this time, giving you less time to react and run for your life.

You took a step backward, pressing your hands against the dresser for some support. You knew you’d hit a dead end the way you clumsily hit the wall, groaning softly in response. You waited and waited for a sign to attempt running past Griffith and escape the palace with all your will’s might. You still had your bathrobe on, which made you partially vulnerable to him, but you didn’t care. You just had to run away from the man who has been invading your personal space.

“Worry not, princess. I came not to disturb your slumber. What I ask for is one simple thing that I believe you and I could share. If I’ll allow you to do so, that is.” Griffith said.

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my Kingdom? This is my lair, as bestowed by my father before me. The fact that you’re trespassing does not make you worthy of seeing me at my-“

Your words were cut off by Griffith, his cunning tone making itself clear in the dead silence. “And who told you that this kingdom was entirely yours? Remember, your induction to queenhood was only taken into consideration because of your father’s sudden death. Besides, it’s not as if you have any experience in leadership whatsoever.”

“Are you underestimating me?” you asked, slightly annoyed with his attitude.

“Why, of course not.” Griffith said as he took brisk steps forward, making it almost impossible for you to escape. “Want to know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I killed your father.” Griffith said, shamelessly. He walked three steps forward, caging the both of you within a small distance.

“You son of a bitch! Why….why would you do such a thing?! My father has been-“ you were interrupted once again.

“I had to do it. There could only be one way to test as to whether Midland is fit to be led by a Queen all on her own…..and turns out, the ‘Queen’ in question has no experience.” Griffith said.

“How dare you insult me in my own palace!” you exclaimed. “I’m leaving!”

“Not when you’re barely dressed like that.” Griffith smiled deviously. “Now…..come here….”

“What….what are you implying?” you asked, attempting to charge your way to the exit of your bedroom. “N-never mind….I’m fucking leaving.” As you charged your way to the exit, you felt two hands wrap around your waist from behind. No, it was too late. Griffith caught you. Pulling you backward, he lifted you to your own bed and started stripping down until he wore nothing but his Behelit.

You attempted to escape once more, only for Griffith to pin you down to the bed and press his lips into yours. You fought against the sheets and turned your head to break the kiss, but your attempts were rendered futile as it only prompted Griffith to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Griffith kissed you harshly, and it frankly felt like kissing an untamed beast cornering its prey. You never knew Griffith was ...quite an expert at this, his mouth slightly nibbling at your lower lip everytime he retreated.

After finally pulling away from you, Griffith latched his face onto your neck, positioning himself next to your right ear. “Give yourself to me, Princess. After all, your Kingdom….will soon be mine.”

“No…NO!!!!” you exclaimed.

“A little stubborn, are we?” Griffith asked, tilting his head. “Well, it’s not like you’ve stood a chance. We’re taking off this one, okay?”

You kept tugging at your bathrobe’s ‘belt’ to keep it away from the filthy man on top of you. “Griffith, I don’t want this, please…..”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Too stubborn.” Griffith said, his touch growing angrier as he grabbed your bathrobe by the waist, curling his hand to a fist. Using his other hand, he slid a sleeve of the wardrobe off your shoulder, revealing your bare shoulder and right breast. Griffith dug right in, his lips kissing your hardened nipple as he engulfed his mouth to suckle it whole. While doing the do, he used his right hand to slide off the other sleeve of your bathrobe, exposing your other breast and stripping you down to your naked form. Griffith pulled away from your nipple, impressed with how he rendered the Queen of Midland helpless under his touch.

“Mmmm……what a pretty little thing you make, just for my kingdom.” Griffith let out a satisfactory hum. “This will be a rather fun time showing them who’s deserving of the throne.” Next thing you knew, Griffith was about to go down on you, positioning himself around the area of your waist.

“Don’t resist, Princess. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs wide open.” You hesitantly obeyed, up until Griffith grabbed you by your inner thighs, spreading them wider and raising them. Finally, he slipped your legs up his shoulders. It felt dirty having someone’s face right up your pussy, especially since this was your first time. Your mind wandered as you closed your eyes, hoping everything you just witnessed was just a dream. But no, it wasn’t. You fought against Griffith’s clutches, tugging at his hair and pushing him away.

But this just prompted him to dig right in, lapping at your fluids as he used his hands to part your lips for better tasting. You muffled a moan from the pleasurable feeling, covering your mouth with one hand. Griffith’s tongue worked you in fast, yet practiced motions—the tongue moved swiftly and curled just the right amount to send you shivers down your spine, earning muffled whimpers from you.

Granted, vibrators didn’t exist in the Medieval Era of Midland, so you might as well indulge in that feeling of someone’s tongue right up your pussy.

Griffith withdrew from eating you out for a while, his breathing and humming loud enough to send you goosebumps. “Mmmm…. You’re already this wet from a little kissing and heavy sucking. I wonder how it would be like to have you sing while having myself fully inside you, to have you clench around me while I slowly take what’s rightfully mine.”

“L-let go!!!!” you screamed. “I don’t want this!!!”

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, Princess. After all, you’re something…..” Griffith said, strict and unwavering. “Magnetic.”

Griffith moaned as he dug right back in, his tongue hovered over your clit. He started tracing small circles in a slow pacing, which left you impatient and begging for more. You tugged into his hair trying to fight him off, but as previously stated, you were left with no defenses against his strong grip.

“Griffith!!! Oh God…..!!!! I’m gonna…..!!!”

The feeling gave you that guilt, guilt for enjoying this man’s advances on you, and guilt because you just couldn’t believe your sense of authority was being challenged by a man of common birth.

But Griffith refused to stop. No, he didn’t stop suckling at your clit gently to give you a break. Griffith was merciless in the bedroom, leaving you with no choice but to accept the fate you’ve been accustomed to.

“Agh! Griffith!!! Stop….!!!!” you moaned out loud.

Griffith’s tongue kept going, and it wasn’t long before he inserted two digits inside your entrance without warning. He just didn’t care. His tongue slowly picked up the pace, speeding up and finally making you reach that sweet, sweet climax you’ve been waiting for. You fucked back subconsciously against his tongue, riding out your orgasm until it was ready to subside. After coming down from your high, you suddenly realized Griffith was looking down at you icily with his bright blue eyes, his body towering over yours despite lying down in bed.

You were screwed. What was about to happen next?

“Hmmm…..perhaps you are ready to take all of me. I’m going to fuck you so good you’d actually forget being the Queen of Midland.”

“No…..NO!!!!” you exclaimed, attempting to get up and reach for the door. You were stopped dead by Griffith once again, leading him to push you back to the mattress and grabbing you by the legs. Spreading them wider, Griffith let go of your legs, only to stroke his length before initially inserting it in your entrance. Slight precum formed through a pearl-like shape at the slit of his cock, adding lubrication to the process of entering you. Before you knew it, Griffith made efforts to adjust and bury his length within your vagina, though you ached in retaliation.

“Aghhh!!! It hurts! It burns! Let go!”

“Hush, princess. I know what I’m doing.” Griffith said as he spread your legs open for a better view. He adjusted himself by taking slow yet sure steps in burying his length into you, filling you to the brim. You were at this point begging to be freed from his grasp, though your fainting strength was no match for him.

Placing his hands on your wrists, Griffith pinned you down and started thrusting his hips in a slow, yet ambitious pace. You bit your lip to hold back your moans, but it was all for naught. You let out a small “uh” while he rocked in and out, sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air as he leaned closer to your ear to speak.

“You don’t stand a chance against ruling Midland.” Griffith muttered at an intimate distance from you.

“What…..Huh…..?” you whimpered, your breasts being grabbed as it bounced from Griffith’s thrusts. “What….do you me-ngggh!” you grunted, trying to resist him by trying to get up. “I owe you nothing! Just please, let me rule my Kingdom in peace! I’ll do anything…..anything….but this…..!!!”

“Surrender your pride, little one.” Griffith said as he caught his breath. “I want you to dream of this.”

As a means of defending yourself, you attempted to grab Griffith by the hair to pull and tug on it roughly. However, your efforts to distract Griffith failed. You had to take responsibility for what had to happen next, and it was all because Griffith wanted a taste of your kingdom.

“I have every right to follow my dream, princess. And I want you and your kingdom surrendered to me. That is the pinnacle of achieving my dream.”

“You’ll…..you’ll never…..have my kingdom…..” you fought your way to speak in the midst of denying the pleasure Griffith gave you.

“You’ll take whatever I deem right to give you, princess. After all, your kingdom and this body will be mine.” Griffith said.

You screamed as loud as you could that the servants and every guest would hear you. The walls were soundproof, but you didn’t have a choice.

“Please!!!! I don’t want this! Please get off!!!”

“You do know screaming out for servants to assist you won’t do your kingdom justice, right? Mmmmm…..”

Right on the dot, Griffith stopped thrusting, pulled out, and aggressively flipped your body over that you were facing the bed. With one fell swoop, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pinned your head to the pillow to muffle every moan and protest you had up your sleeve. Without warning, he repositioned himself right up your entrance, taking you from behind.

“This is a far better idea to keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” Griffith commanded.

“Mmmmmhhhh…….mmmmhhhhh!!!!”

The sounds of lewd clapping resumed, Griffith’s cock milking every last bit of your pussy’s juices with fervor. There was no turning back now, and he was truly getting at it, without any form of warning or informing you of any discomfort felt. It was like Griffith only cared for his own pleasure and never left crumbs of remorse for your wellbeing. This left you scarred—physically, emotionally, and most significantly, spiritually.

“Mmmmmm……I’m getting quite close.” Griffith smirked as he leaned forward. “What are you going to do about it, princess? Squirm? Run away?”

Your eyes widened at his remark, your body telling you to escape as he was nearing his release. You certainly did not want to carry his child, nor want to do anything with the monster who pounded on you animalistically.

“Noooooo!!!!!!” your voice protested while being muffled by the pillows where your head rested.

“As I said, you’ll take whatever’s been given to you. Now….”

It wasn’t long before your body betrayed you. You felt your climax approaching despite being against the thought of Griffith fucking you. Subconsciously, you fucked back, trying to get Griffith’s cock deep in you before you could feel his fluids leaking straight from your soaked cunt.

Three.

Two.

One.

Your moans and grunts filled the pillow, adding to its warmth while Griffith bit down your neck out of extreme pleasure. His thrusts sped up as he began to feel ropes of cum shooting itself inside you before pulling out. And the feeling was mutually GOOD. You let out a groan as your muscles relaxed, Griffith moaning as his cum began to leak out from your newly filled cunt. You were soaking wet and drenched in sweat as Griffith stayed inside you for long.

You were now marked as his. You didn’t know what to do at this point as you were deflowered after your coronation day.

“Sleep well, princess. Provided you are to raise a child from our time together, just let me know. We can build a kingdom where you could rule by my side.”

You couldn’t respond, which prompted Griffith to flip your body back to lying on your back. It was truly a tiresome night, filled with intensity and passion as Griffith stole everything from you.

You just never stood a chance.

Your eyes suddenly admitted defeat, staring up at Griffith as he looked down at you with a look of an angel. He was charming, so to speak, but heavily dedicated to what he promised to achieve.

And he achieved it.

He achieved his dream.

[morganski-19]

It’s a month after Starcourt when Steve realizes that Robin isn’t leaving. That she meant what she said about sticking around. That they were trauma bonded in two ways now. One in the average minimum wage worker way. The second in the way no one should ever have to be. 

If he had the choice to do it all over again. He’d never ask her to get involved. Would have told Dustin to wait until his shift is over, and then they could go figure it out. It might have taken longer. They might have never figured it out at all. But then another person wouldn’t have been dragged into the bullshit. Robin wouldn’t have nightmares anymore. 

She wouldn’t find herself on his doorstep at two in the morning, drenched in sweat from a mix of the heat and the fear. Bike fallen on the ground by her feet. He wouldn’t have to keep lying that she woke him up. Even if they both knew he hadn’t fallen asleep before four a.m. since that day. 

He won’t have someone to call when he wakes up screaming. Because he can’t call the kids, it’s not their job to calm him down. That’s his. Their phone calls don’t go both ways. Robin’s do though. She insisted on it. 

Worst part of it all is that Steve doesn’t want Robin to leave. But knows she will. This is just until the nightmares stop, then she’ll realize that he’s not worth it anymore. Just like the rest of them. It’s always until the person gets what they need out of Steve, and then they’re gone. No one ever stays because of who he is. 

It was clear the day he dropped Tommy and Carol. How they ran away like flies when you took away the food. They were terrible people, but they were his friends. His only friends. Since elementary school. It all seemed so trivial back then, but he appreciated them for what they were.

Regret is a funny thing. He doesn’t regret dropping them. It would have happened eventually. He regrets the hole that it left though. The emptiness that he’s been running from for a while. They filled the house when his parents were away. Which was more frequent now that he was an adult. They didn’t need to look after him that much anymore. It was his job now. 

Robin made it her job too. Without him asking. He never would have. But when they were both ready to get back to work, she was right there at his door with a resume in hand. Ready to get them both a job together again. Why would they ever need to work at two separate places? They were a package deal now. 

For now. Steve reminded himself. There will come a day that Robin will see that Steve isn’t much different from the kid she hated in high school. He’s still rich, and messy. Still can be really mean when he doesn’t mean to be. He’s sorry for it now. But that doesn’t change the fact that it still happens. 

Yet, like clockwork, she keeps coming around. Keeps calling at the same time every night to talk for hours when they should be asleep. Makes him realize how much he’s going to miss this when it inevitably ends. 

He’d prefer for it to happen rather than later. So he can be less attached. So it will hurt less. 

“How are you still here?” Steve asks one night. When the room is light enough for the nightmares to creep away, but dark enough to still hide the the fear on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Robin asks. Like her being here at all isn’t some big miracle. 

“You know who I was in high school. You know the things I said. The things I did.”

Robin props herself up on her elbows. “And? You’re not like that anymore.”

Steve shakes his head. She’s not getting it. “Part of me still is. Somewhere. I still snap and insult, and be just mean when I feel like I need to be. Even though I don’t half the time. It’s like a reflex I can’t get rid of. I might act like it, but I’m not much different than I was back then.”

“You are,” she says with absolute certainty. 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Robin’s face comes into view. “I might have not known you that well, but I can still see it. In the way you carry yourself, in the way you act around those kids. The person you were back in highschool wouldn’t spare them a second glance. Wouldn’t spare me a second glance. The minute you walked into the ice cream parlor wearing those stupid shorts and dumb hat and saw me behind the counter, it would have been over. I would have been the subject of your torture. But I wasn’t.”

Robin takes Steve’s wrists and pulls him into a sitting position. Looking at him like she means what she says. He believes her. 

“Instead, you were nice to me. Considerate. Snappy sure, but in the way that secretly made me laugh. And never mean, not really. Even when I gave you every chance to be. I was waiting for who you were in history class to show up and he never did. Instead I saw the real you for the first time and I liked it. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

“But what I said-.”

“Is in the past. The person who said those things wouldn’t have made fun of my crush on Tammy Tompson as fast as you did. Or accepted the fact that I liked girls at all. Might have done a lot of things I’m not sure of.” She pauses, swallowing. “When I told you, I was so scared. I had no clue how you would react. And you have no idea how relieved I was when it played out the way it did. You’re the first person I’ve told about this. You don’t know what that means for me.”

Steve stares at her. “I didn’t know that.”

She shrugs. “Yeah well. Now you do.”

“Why me?”

“Well I sort of had to reject you for one,” she jokes. “But, after I saw the way that you protected Dustin and Erica, me, without even blinking. Something about you just felt safe. I know that’s risky as hell and might have not worked out with most people. I just had a feeling that it would work out with you.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he whispers. “I’m glad that I was able to be that first person. And that you felt that you could tell me at all. After all the shit I said.”

“Again, you’re different now. Intentionally different. I might have just been a bystander in the Steve Harrington experience until recently, but I can see that. I hope you can too.”

[disinherited-dornishman]

Personal thoughts on Team Black, Rhaenyra, and Misogyny.

This is going to be a messy one as regard structure but also topic. Stay with me, people.

I've been seeing a lot of accusations of misogyny against anti-team black, anti-rhaenyras, and anti-hotd posters for criticisms uttered, and I can't help but be a little dumbfounded. Like are we really doing this? Pointing out that Rhaenyra was reckless for having 3 bastards is not misogyny. I'm sorry, as much as you guys might love your make-believe character, I'm just not humoring it. Not if you're going to make the conversation about feminism and sexual liberation.

Okay, let me just say. Rhaenyra having Jace I can understand. An experiment that was stupid but also respectable in a way, because Laenor was definitely traumatized and not fit for keeping up their agreement, so I can support that mistake wholeheartedly for the empathy behind it. But Luke and Joffrey? After finding out that her genes get overriden by Harwin's?

Plain stupid. I'm sorry, that's just playing with fire, especially since she should know how precarious her position would be after the precedent of the Great Council that robbed Rhaenys of her birthright on the basis of her gender.

And like, I'd be fine with it if the show didn't portray it as this girlboss, don't-give-a-fuck win, because all it does is highlight how ignorant the showrunners are about the world in which their show is set! I liked selfish and decadent Rhaenyra in the books, she didn't need to be treated as a hero for it.

And the fact that the rest of the world and everyone in it is portrayed as being at fault for not going along with what's basically that society's equivalent of a political clown show is absurd. Pointing this out doesn't mean I'm condoning it either, I'm criticizing the show's lack of self-awareness. It's so obvious the showrunners are disconnected from the their world.

GRRM writes all his characters as believable people grown up in a medieval society, but critiques it through his own modern moral lense in a way that's seemless, yet in this show they use characters as mouthpieces to spout modern feminist and egalitarian ideals from characters who are ruling class. Who the fuck are they kidding? If you want to make a feminist show, don't use bourgeoisie feminism!!! Idgaf about some Princess' sexual liberation while she's allowed to hold feasts that rips the food from the tables of peasants! There's nothing inspiring about that!

Rhaenyra, one of the single most bourgeois figure in the show, is supposed to be praised for her "sexual liberation" when it literally threatens the stability of the entire realm, and directly caused a war in which countless sexual atrocities were committed and will still be committed? Forgive me if I can't find it in me to be inspired.

If you want the show to be feminist, display the themes through the people at the bottom, the normal workers, the whores, the thieves, the daytalers and smiths and carpenters and undertakers and farmers, etc etc. Don't ask people to cheer for a reckless white woman from a colonizer background with a biological WMD at her disposal for breaking the social contract of a ruling class SHE'S A PART OF and risking destabilizing her entire country, it's fucking insulting! And don't get me started on the gender essentialism of the whole "women good, men bad" horseradish horseshit.

I'd love to discuss and analyze these concepts if we're talking about Rhaenyra's character arc, her as a person, and the themes of patriarchy that one can glean through her. But if we're talking actual, meaningful, proletariat feminism that means something to the medieval society they live in?

You wanna praise this brave monarch for sexually liberating herself, go ahead and praise the female Romans in Spartacus while you're at it. Praise their sexual liberation when they avail themselves of sex slaves taken from Thrace and Gaul and wherever else the Roman Empire had reach and rape them for fun. Understand I'm not comparing Rhaenyra's actions with having her kids with Harwin to rape, I'm pointing out power dynamics. And at least that show had the decency to show that the patrician romans were cruel and vile alongside their humanity, unlike HotD which seems to insist its ruling family of dragonriding depraved incestuous monarchs are actually virtuous while literally having Meleys burst through the floorboards and massacre a crowd.

P.S.: for any Anti-Rhaenyras, please don't start shit about her unless you wanna discuss how the writers fucked up her beloved character. I actually liked her in the books and she should've gotten a bigger part than Daemon, so don't slander her all willy nilly. It's unconstructive and I feel no desire to engage.

[oepionie]

A DIFFERENT TYPE OF CONTRACT. azul ashengrotto

"…You already hate me as it is so it’s not like i have nothing to lose here."

Synopsis: Azul has dragged you into contract after contract and you've taken it all like a champ. However, when he asks you to be his date for an event, you become so upset that an argument breaks out. In the midst of it, Azul accidentally blurts out his feelings for you.

Character/s: Azul Ashengrotto x GN! Reader

A/N: GUYS IM SO PROUD OF THIS WORK HEHE

Tags: Slight enemies-to-lovers, Fluffy Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Mentions of drowning, Slight manipulation, Crying, Azul's love language is dragging you into contracts lol

Word Count: 1.1k+ | 🎸Event Masterlist

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” You shake your head, barking out laughter. Floyd gleefully laughs along with you, skipping forward and jabbing a heavy hand against your back. The action made you stumble to the floor, which only served to further intensify your anger towards the octopus and his little hench-eels. "Another one of your stupid contracts?!" 

Azul smiles coolly, clasping his hands atop his table loaded with shimmering magical contracts and various ink pots — all meticulously arranged in an orderly layout, of course. He snapped his fingers and Jade strode over, swiftly handing his 'boss' a singular sheet of paper.

"Why, of course!" Azul's eyes crinkled in mirth as he turned the paper to face you. A leather-clad finger pressed against the sheet, pointing to the title. "How could I not pass up an opportunity like this?"

"EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT" was written in bold cursive lettering, the bleeding dark black ink making it pop out and almost seem as if it was mocking you in your predicament. Your jaw dropped, a look of surprise flashing across your face before a scowl quickly replaced it. "Me?! How desperate are you for new employees?"

“Oh, such an insult to my pride as an entrepreneur! I would never employ anyone I deem…" Azul scrutinizes you with calculating eyes, tucking one arm over his chest as the other fixes his glasses. He rises from his chair and circles around you, his polished shoes clicking against the marble tiles of his office. "…unfit.”

"Yeah~ You're the perfect shrimpy for the job!" Floyd pulled you from your position on the floor, shoving a uniform in your arms. You take a gander at the clothes. It might’ve been the trick of the eye or the light inside the lounge, but the silk almost seemed to have a mystical glow and shimmer. Your eyes dart up to the trio, hesitation crawling up the very depths of your heart.

All three men exchanged sardonic smiles with sly glints in their eyes. It's unusual for a stranger to pique their curiosity, but you possessed something most of their victims don't: you were such an odd little human.

"Welcome to the staff, prefect." Jade smiles curtly. "I do hope you don't disappoint."

—

It's official, you hate fish.

Working in Monstro Lounge for the past few weeks was nothing but underwater hell. Truly, you had to give both Jade and Floyd credit for having the patience—or rather, tolerance—to deal with all these self-important customers. If you had to make another 'double blend venti coffee frappuccino with whipped cream, additional ice, honey blend, and caramel drizzle' order for that one Pomefiore regular, you think you might have just lost your mind.

As if the annoying customers weren't already enough, Azul was always requesting for further favors. Really, there were occasions when you felt more like his personal secretary. If it was actually stated in the tiny fine print of the contract, you wouldn't be a surprise.

You've been left victim to all his schemes and whims. Though you could say with confidence that you were able to handle every single demand thrown your way, it's not like you really had a choice in the first place. You had boundaries and this one request of his might just finally push you over the edge.

"I need you to act as my date for an event."

"…y-you want me to what?" You sputtered, features contorting into a grimace. Azul stared at you indifferently, casually looking over his pile of paperwork. So struck by anguish, you failed to see how his hands trembled or how a pink hue spread across his face. 

"A-Ah, you see, I'm under a time constraint and seeing as you're the only one available, you may accompany me." Azul replied, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. "T-There's no one else to run to, so I'll have to settle for you."

'I'll have to settle for you.' The way he said it so nonchalantly and bluntly made you gnash your teeth together. How could he just push you aside like that? Like you were just some insignificant bystander in his life.

"Using me again, huh?" You laughed bitterly, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Stupid. You were so stupid for developing feelings for this octopus. Azul blinked at you owlishly, watching as a lone tear ran down your cheek. "Pardon…?"

"Nevermind that. Screw this, I'm leaving!" You pulled your suit jacket off, discarding it onto the floor as you cut across the tables, moving towards the exit. Azul scurried after you, protests shooting out of his mouth.

"You-! We have a contract you can't just do as you wish!" He bellows, unadulterated anger coiling around him in a ruthless grip. The octopus seized you by the arm, yanking you around to face him. Scoffing, you attempt to shove him away, but he grabs you by your elbows. "Great Sevens—Damn me! Why are you so stubborn, prefect?!"

"Why can't you just let go?! What is with you and dragging me into contracts?!" You shriek, lifting your knees to kick at his shins.

"​It's because I like you!" Azul bellows, grasping onto your shoulders, his chest heaving. Clamping your mouth shut, you fell silent. The octopus's eyes widened with saturated horror as he scurried away from you, disregarding the sickening vertigo in his head in his haste.

"Sevens—I'm so careless." Azul groans, dragging a hand down his face before pounding his fist against a table. He tugs at his hair, doubling over as a wave of nausea hits him.

"W-What?" you ask, tone wavering. You moisten your lips as you meet the merman’s eyes. "Azul, what?"

He peers at you through his parted fingers, shakily standing straight once more.

"…You already hate me as it is, so it’s not like i have nothing to lose here." He breathlessly blunders out, eyes glossy with tears from being overcome with embarrassment. "I like you. I-I've liked you ever since the very day I met you."

Fear gripped him right down to his soul as his heart was left torn open; Bare for you to see. He comes to a halt, feet anchored to the floor, as you ponder the gravity of his confession.

Is this how sailors reacted to the song of a siren? You knew all too well that the minute you accepted, Azul would lure you into the depths of his heart, where you would never again be able to emerge. Would you sacrifice the world above to drown for your infatuation yet be rewarded with love from a charming octopus below?

"Azul…" You whisper, deft fingers creeping up his hot cheeks. He shudders at your touch, turning putty under your frigid, piercing gaze. Azul's mouth parts open, but words fail him.

"I'll be your date. Though you really don't need a contract for that." Leaning forward, you pressed a scorching kiss against his lips and the deal was set.

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad

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[lovelyjj]

Bodygaurd!jj with kook!reader. Hear me out at first when he gets the job he thinks she’s a spoiled brat but she’s the complete opposite. So when he first meets her he’s being really mean and she doesn’t know why. It’s a lot I know 😭😭😭

omg bodyguard!jj are you kidding?!!?! so hot! please send more bodyguard!jj ideas or concepts!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your parents hired a bodyguard because they felt like you needed one. You were a kook princess, rich and wealthy with a heart of gold. Who knows who would try and take advantage of you or harm you in anyway.

You accepted it, realizing that your parents were only trying to protect you. You weren’t thrilled but you came to terms with it. Having a bodyguard felt like you were an actual princess.

When you first met your bodyguard you were taken back. He wasn’t very nice to you and you had no idea why.

“Hi I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” you greeted him.

“I’m JJ, but you can call me Mr. Maybank,” He grumbled.

“Oh. Okay,” you smiled trying to remain friendly.

“Well I was planning on going shopping today,” you continued.

“Of course you were,” JJ rolled his eyes.

You frowned, not sure what you did wrong to make him be so rude.

The mall was fairly crowded. You dragged JJ from store to store and he grumpily followed you around. You tried on a handful of clothes and asked JJ’s opinion which he grumbled out a “It looks terrible.”

When you were at the food court JJ let his opinions break free.

“Do you really need more clothes?” JJ scoffed.

“Probably not but isn’t it fun to shop?” you asked.

“No.” JJ deadpanned.

“Why are you such a grump?” you asked.

“Because you’re an entitled self-centered bitch.” JJ insulted.

“Oh,” you sniffled, “Um ok don’t know why you felt the need to say that but thanks for the honesty I guess.”

JJ crossed his arms and didn’t reply.

You didn’t want JJ to see you upset so you put on your brave face. You didn’t know why JJ was being so mean but it hurt your feelings. How were you supposed to get along with him with his attitude. He was your bodyguard for christ sakes, he was going to be with you all the time.

JJ truly believed what he said. He thought you were a spoiled brat. And that couldn’t be further from the truth but he didn’t care to find that out. JJ was stubborn and he was set in his ways, but he couldn’t deny you were pretty.

When you were done shopping you got a text from your mom asking if you could get groceries. You said yes of course because that’s the kind of person you are. Reliable, trustworthy, selfless.

You arrived at the store with JJ by your side.

You felt a little defeated because of JJ’s attitude towards you. But you did your best to remain positive. You went down the aisles shopping for all the items on the list your mom texted you.

JJ followed you around the store making sure you were safe because that’s his job. JJ huffed and puffed as he helped you shop still set in his ways that you’re a spoiled brat.

When you got all the things on the list JJ helped load the groceries into the car. You were walking in the street to the passenger door when a car came out of no where. JJ pushed you out of the way and held you on the sidewalk.

“Jesus christ are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Watch out where you’re going, ok?” JJ scolded.

“Thanks for saving me Mr. Maybank” you said.

“It was nothing,” JJ shrugged.

Your bodyguard was mean to you and you didn’t have a clue why. You were hoping that one day you would get along. You had hope. Maybe just maybe your bodyguard might surprise you.

[st-eve-barnes]

Pretty little liars (chapter 1)

(Felix Catton x fem Reader)

Summary: Felix Catton was the embodiment of everything you hated, yet you loved him like you never imagined one human being could love another. But as with all good things, you didn't know what you had until it was stolen from you.

This Chapter: Your first experiences with Saltburn and the infamous Felix Catton

Word count: +3500

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Enemies to lovers vibes. Oral (fem & male receiving), p in v sex, fingering, ... Jealousy, voyeurism, secrets, toxic relationships, mentions of death. Oliver being his creepy little self.

ANGST/smut/fluff (do I ever write anything else? lol)

***

Saltburn has altered my brain chemistry and Felix won't leave my mind so I had to give him his own mini series. Tag list is open for those who want on it ;)

***

All these and older fics are also on AO3 If you want to support my writing you can Buy me a KoFi or feed me with a lovely comment ;)

***

You weren’t just in love with Felix Catton. It would be an insult to the depth of your feelings for him to call it that. You loved him like you never imagined one human being could love another.

Felix Catton was sunlight personified. He lit up a room like no one else could, drew people to his light without even trying.

You couldn’t see it at first, blinded by the riches and the money. But it wasn’t about that.

Felix was more. More than you bargained for, and far more than you deserved.

But as with all good things, you didn’t know what you had until it was taken from you.

He was staring at you but looking right through you, no life left in his teary eyes where he lay on the ground in the middle of the maze, golden wings spread out beneath him. He looked so pale, almost inhuman. Like an angel, fallen to the earth. 

It was dark and quiet in the maze, the statue looming over you like a bad omen.The music and happy chatter in the distance might as well have come from another planet. Behind these walls there was no music playing, no laughter, only grief.

Your hands were shaking, grabbing at his chest almost violently, your sadness turning into anger. Don’t you fucking leave me here alone in this place. You promised you wouldn’t leave me alone out here.

Elspeth’s desperate sobs kept filling your ears: “He’s not breathing, my baby’s not breathing, oh god he’s not breathing.”

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, swallow every single person here and the whole of Saltburn with it. 

What good was it without him? What good was any of it?

What good were you?

***

1 year earlier

The first time you set foot in Saltburn you had no idea where to look first. Everything was so beautiful, shiny, luxurious, authentic. Excessive.

You had heard all the stories about the infamous Catton family and their household but to walk through it, observe it all with your own two eyes, was a much different experience.

It felt like a lucid dream and in the midst of it all stood him.

Felix Catton. 

Beloved son and brother, life of the party, everybody’s best friend, infamous fuck boy.

He had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, chatting away to whoever gave him attention, male or female, it didn’t matter, they all hung on his every word.

You couldn’t stand him. Not even specifically him but people like him. Pretty rich kids. Life was so easy for him it just wasn’t fucking fair to the rest of you.

“Here,” your friend shoved a drink into your hand and gave you an encouraging smile,”It’s a party, Y/N, can you at least try to look like I’m not holding you at gun point here?”

“Sorry,” you sighed, taking a sip from your drink as you followed your friend through the endless garden of the estate.

It was hot, it had been like this for a couple of weeks now even though officially the summer was yet to start. The only relief was a soft evening breeze and the ice cold drink numbing your throat. You weren’t even supposed to be here, your friend had snuck you in, encouraging you to experience a true Saltburn party for yourself. You’d been curious as hell, so of course you’d said yes.

A decision you were already regretting.

You hated these people, it was all so shallow, and meaningless, and a million miles away from your world. But you didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the -unofficial- invite so you danced with your friend and drank, smiled and pretended to fit in. At least the alcohol made it easy for you to fake your way through the night.

You were losing yourself in the music when your friend leaned closer to you on the dance floor with a grin and a whisper into your ear,“He’s been staring at you for the last 10 minutes.”

“Who?”

“Felix. He’s so fucking hot, girl, you should go to him and go for it.”

You laughed while you continued dancing,”I think not! I may be drunk but I’m not that drunk, Bella.”

“Come on,” she tried to encourage you.

“No thanks, why would I even be interested in him? He’s just a rich asshole,” you pointed out, taking another sip from your drink while your eyes drifted off to Felix. He was standing with a group of people by the side of the dance floor and the maze and his eyes were already on you. You looked away again quickly, shaking your head with another chuckle while you finished your drink.

“See?!” your friend poked into your side with a grin,”You sure you’re not interested?”

“I’m not interested in spoiled little rich kids.”

“Girl, there is nothing about that man that is little,” your friend joked and then almost choked on her own laughter. You couldn’t help but join in.

“Shut up,” you pushed her back playfully.

“No but for real, Felix is a good egg, the best out of all of them,” she pointed out and you rolled your eyes in judgment.

“That isn't saying much, is it? They're all rich assholes.”

“Felix is nice though,” she insisted,”He’s always kind, and so welcoming, and always in a good mood.”

You snorted,”Please, if my family was this rich I’d always be in a good mood as well, fuck. That guy hasn’t had to struggle a day in his life.”

“That’s pretty presumptuous of you,” she pointed out.

“It’s written all over him, come on, he’s a walking cliche, Bella.”

You friend shrugged her shoulders,”Alright, whatever. It’s your loss, I hear he really knows how to please a girl.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again,“That guy? I highly doubt it. Everyone wants to fuck him anyway, he doesn’t even have to try and be good at it. Girls will lay at his feet either way. And guys.”

“I’m just saying, you could take the test and find out for yourself, what have you got to lose?” she teased.

“I think I’ll manage fine without having Felix Catton in my life, thanks. I’m gonna go get another refill.”

You left your friend on the dance floor but you quickly came to regret that decision.

You’d been fine on your feet while dancing but now as you were trying to move through the crowd you suddenly felt dizzy, as if someone had put something in your drink, or you were just a whole lot more drunk than you had initially thought. The ground seemed to be moving under your feet as you fought to keep your balance. Something you were failing horribly at and just as you were about to lose the fight entirely and fall down onto the grass two strong hands came to rest on your shoulders, holding you up.

“Whoa, hey, you alright there, love?”

You looked up to meet his eyes. God, he really was freakishly tall, you had never felt smaller in your life.

“Felix,” you breathed.

“Hi, there,” he smiled at you and opened his mouth to say something else but it never reached your ears as you were too busy vomiting out your guts all over his shirt and shoes.

***

“Here,” Felix handed you a glass of water with two pills in it. 

You were sitting on the edge of the counter in one of the guest bathrooms downstairs. It was a blur how you got here, you vaguely remembered Felix carrying you into the house and holding your hair back while you threw up into the fancy toilet.

You looked up at him, your vision still blurry. You noticed he had changed shirts and was barefoot now.

You hesitantly took the glass from his hands but didn’t drink it yet.

“It’s for your stomach, I’m not trying to drug you, promise.”

His voice was kinder than you'd imagined and you carefully took a sip and then another one until you could feel the liquor settle in your stomach. It wasn’t making you feel worse so you drank some more. 

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these parties before,” Felix stated.

“No, I…I’m new.”

He smiled. Felix Catton smiled at you and it was like looking directly into the sun.

You took another sip from the drink he handed you, avoiding his gaze, giving yourself a moment of respite. He really was breathtaking up close, even you had to admit that.

”I’m really sorry about your shirt,” you then sighed.

“That’s quite alright. You’re not the first girl to throw up on me.”

You laughed.”Okay, good to know I’m not special.”

Your words made him chuckle.”So do you have a name, new girl?”

“It’s Y/N,” you answered hesitantly.

Felix repeated your name attentively. Why did it sound so much better coming from his lips than from your own?

“You can crash here tonight if you want,” he suggested,”Plenty of guest rooms to choose from. Or one of our drivers can take you home.”

“One of your drivers?” you shook your head with a smile, his words bringing you back down to reality really fast,”Jesus, fuck, you and I come from such different worlds, it would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.”

“I can ditch you outside of the gates and make you walk home,” he teased,”But that would be cruel, wouldn’t it?”

You shook your head with a sneer and then sighed.

“Look, it’s whatever you prefer,” he added casually.

You finished the last of the drink and got up,”I think I’d just prefer to go home, by myself. Thanks for this, but I’m okay now.”

“Okay then,” Felix nodded, a small intrigued smile forming on his lips as he watched you leave the room.

“See you at the next one, new girl,” he yelled after you.

***

The second time you talked to Felix was two weeks later. You had been going with Bella to the Saltburn estate a couple more times since then. She had developed a little crush on Oliver, one of Felix’s new friends who seemed to hang around the house all the time. She had felt a little anxious going there on her own, so she begged you to accompany her and you did what any good friend would do.

It had nothing to do with Felix or Saltburn. Not back then anyway.

You had spent the entire afternoon lounging around the pool with a big group of people. Bella had taken the opportunity to get closer to Oliver who seemed charmed by her interest in him and happily engaged in conversation. You mostly stuck to yourself and soaked up the sun while you read your book. Felix hadn’t approached you once but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances at you every time he thought you weren’t looking.

When the sun was starting to go down you said your goodbye to Bella and Oliver and decided to head back home. You had called a cab to come pick you up by the gate, where Felix found you having a discussion with the taxi driver.

“I have the money I just don’t have it on me right now,” you pleaded but the asshole wasn’t budging.

“Money now or I’m not taking you anywhere, sweetheart,” he insisted.

“I can give you half now and the rest when I get home, come on, it’s not a problem. Do I look like I don’t have money?”

“You rich kids always think the rules don’t apply to you, don’t you? Pay up front, or you’re walking.”

You sighed annoyed, ready to plead your case some more when suddenly you heard someone calling out your name.

It was Felix.

You weren’t sure what surprised you the most, the big beaming smile with which he walked up to you as if you were close friends, or the fact that he remembered your name. You hadn’t spoken to him since your embarrassing display at that party weeks ago. He’d seemed happy to ignore you after that and you had done the same, feeling no interest in getting to know him further.

“You forgot this, love,” he smiled at you and wrapped a jacket over your shoulders, the sleeves were about four sizes too big for you and the whole thing almost came down to your knees. 

You were completely lost for words.

He leaned in a little closer to whisper in your ear,”I think you left your money in there as well.”

He tapped on the pocket with his finger and you could see a few 10 pound notes sticking out.

“Felix,” you sighed,”You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” he feigned innocence,”This is yours, now pay the good man before he ditches you and makes you walk home.”

“I…okay, fine,” you sighed, giving in and taking out the money needed to pay for your ride home.

“Perfect,” the taxi driver grinned,”Pleasure doing business with you.”

Felix stood with his hands in his pockets and a satisfied grin on his face while the man opened the door and waited for you to get in.

You sighed again and looked back into his big brown eyes.

“I’ll pay you back,” you whispered before getting into the car.

“That’s not necessary, new girl,” he called after you and gave you a big wave as the car drove away with you in it.

You hated that it made you smile.

****

You hated to admit that you were starting to enjoy the weekly parties at Saltburn, it had become your guilty pleasure weekend activity.

Bella and Oliver had grown closer together and you couldn’t deny you enjoyed his company as well, he seemed different from all the other rich kids and you had a strong feeling that he was just pretending to fit in, much like yourself. Neither of you spoke of it but when you looked into his eyes you knew, and you knew he knew as well. Neither of you belonged here.

Felix was mixing drinks behind the bar when you put the money you owed him on the counter.”Here.”

He gave you a smile and shook his head,”I told you that wasn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is,” you insisted.

“Really it was nothing, it was barely 4O pounds.”

“And I’m sure in your world that’s considered nothing but in mine it’s….,” you swallowed the rest of your angry words before you would say things you’d end up regretting later.”Just take the damn money.”

He lifted his hands up in defense and laughed,”Alright, fine, I’ll take the money, thank you for paying me back, what the fuck?”

You sighed annoyed and walked away from him, leaving him shaking his head in confusion.

You went back to ignoring him for the rest of the night, or at least trying to. You couldn’t help but find yourself looking at him from time to time. He was always chatting to someone, always laughing and drinking and looking like he was having the time of his life. You wondered if at least part of that was an act, if it ever exhausted him to play the ever friendly host and life of every party. Nobody was happy all the time, weren’t they? Not even Felix Catton.

You looked away when he stared back at you, ignoring the emotions that started bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. You felt strangely drawn to him, and you hated yourself for allowing that feeling.

Bella was the one to pull you out of your thoughts and onto the dance floor and you went willingly, losing yourself in the music and the rhythm. When a few guys came to join you both you didn’t think much of it and you happily let them dance close to you. It wasn’t after some time that you noticed Bella wasn’t there anymore and there was one guy in particular who seemed to have some issues with personal space. His hands were traveling further up your hips and under your shirt while he started grinding up against you.

Your hands on his chest tried to push him back a little bit as you tried to dance away from him but his hold on your hips was too strong.

“Hey, come on, stop that,” you politely tried to create some distance between you both but the guy ignored all your attempts. When his hand tried to slip under the hem of your skirt to feel up your ass you were ready to throw punches at this jerk. Just before you could make your move someone grabbed your hand and slowly but firmly pulled you away from the guy. 

Felix.

Before you realized what was happening your back was pressed up against his large chest, his hands on your waist as he danced behind you, his face buried into your hair while he made eye contact with the guy in front of you.

“Sorry, mate, she’s one of mine, off limits,” he stated, as if that explained everything.

And apparently it did because the guy just smiled apologetically at Felix and stepped back immediately.

“Hey,” Felix winked at the guy,”India over there is looking like she could use some company, shoot your shot, man.” 

The jerk gave him a big smile and two thumbs up.

You wanted to punch both of them. 

You were no longer in need of rescuing but Felix still kept dancing with you. His hands were gentle on your hips, keeping you close but not too close, giving you the freedom to step back should you choose to.

But you didn’t make that choice. 

Your body betrayed you by leaning into him, allowing him to nuzzle your hair and your neck, putting goosebumps all over your arms and Felix smiled when he noticed. When his lips brushed your ear your brain finally kicked back into gear and you broke out of his embrace, surprising him.

“Some nice mates you have there,” you pointed out as you turned to look at him,” And one of yours? Do you have like a spare set of everything? Even girls?”

Felix just shook his head with a bashful smile.

“Of course you do,” you then sighed,”Why am I even surprised? God, you are so…”

“What?” he asked, a playful grin on his face,”What am I?”

“Annoying,” you blurted out,”Privileged, full of yourself, ignorant.”

Beautiful, enchanting, mesmerizing.

“Alright, don’t hold back on me now,” he laughed, seemingly amused by your anger and that only angered you further.

You bit your tongue and then shook your head,”You know what, forget it, I don’t even know why I bother.”

You wanted to turn on your heel but Felix reached for your hand, lacing his long fingers with your much smaller ones and keeping you close to him.

“Why do you bother?” he then asked, intrigued, eyes locking with yours,”Why do you keep coming back here when you clearly hate everything about this place?”

“Because my friend…”

“No, no, no, your friend isn’t even here tonight, that’s an excuse. Why are you here?”

Your mouth opened but the words weren’t coming out. Because you would rather die than admit why you were really here.

“I like big parties where I don’t have to pay for anything,” you lied, avoiding his gaze. Felix just laughed and God, you wanted to wipe that beautiful smile off his gorgeous face so badly.

Then he leaned down to be able to stare deep down into your eyes, his voice nothing but a whisper,”You’re a pretty little liar, new girl.”

His deep voice and intense stare were enough to shut you up entirely and you had to look away from him to find your voice again.

“I had him, I didn’t need you,” you then blurted out.

“Didn’t look like it to me,” he shrugged.

“I would have handled it,” you insisted.

“The right thing to say is thank you, Felix, that was pretty nice of you,” he teased, making your blood boil.

“You…ugh…,” you angrily turned your back on him and stormed off the dance floor.

“You’re welcome,” he yelled after you with a big smile on his face,”See you at the next one, Y/N.”

“Asshole.”

You wanted to hate him, you really did, Felix Catton stood for everything you despised. But you could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips, feel where his breath had grazed your neck until your skin erupted in goosebumps, feel how deeply his eyes bored a way straight into your soul.

You hated how you didn’t hate him at all and above all else you hated how he reduced you to just another Felix groupie. That wasn’t you.

He had no idea who you were. 

And he could never find out. 

[bibibbon]

And while we're on the subject of Bakugou's "apology", it really rubs me the wrong way at how 1A just takes him for his word when he throws All Might under the bus for Izuku's low self esteem and self sacrificing tendancies.

Izuku flat out told Ida and Ochako that Deku was an insult and not a friendly nickname.

They were there to see how hard Bakugou was going against him during the Battle Trials, and a lot of them were genuinely scared that he was going to kill Izuku. Hell, even Momo quickly realized that at the very least, Bakugou held some sort of grudge against him.

Momo, Ida, and Ochako saw Bakugou backhand Izuku and refuse to work with him during the final exams.

They all saw him INSULTING Izuku when they were about to beat him into submission before 1A vs Izuku. They were even there when Bakugou admitted (but not really) to bullying Izuku.

I know that this is due to Hori sweeping Bakugou's earlier behavior under the rug, but come on! Anyone with common sense would be able to see that Bakugou is NOT Izuku's friend anything he says about Izuku should be taken with a grain of salt.

Hi @nutzgunray-lvt 👋

There's a reason why I don't talk about how bad bakugos apology is and that's because there are already a mountain of other posts that have talked about it and phrased what I wanted to say in ways that I could never do.

However, the one thing that continually bugs me is just how horikoshi makes class 1A react to bakugos behaviour and the "revelation" of his actions. During the early arcs of MHA (before the sports festival) class 1A were allowed to have their opinions on bakugo and actively made it clear that they dislikes him and his behaviour somehow without bakugo changing at all class 1A's own behaviour towards bakugo changes and they seem to accept that him being aggressive is just a bakugo way or thing.

In the earlier arcs like the battle trials 1A literally saw bakugo saying that he wants to kill Izuku and it was actually kirishima who spoke out to all might and told him multiple times to stop the fight because he knew bakugo was taking it too far. Heck even after the fight and when izuku came back to class the 1A kids all talked about how well he did and asked if he was okay while they ignored and didn't acknowledge bakugo (which says a lot)

Asui calls bakugo out in the usj arc. Tokoyami also calls bakugos behaviour out in chapter 327 when bakugo is still being rude to midoriya after his alleged apology.

Izuku literally explains to iida and ochako that the name deku is an insult and when izuku picks out the name deku as his hero name the whole of class 1A looks in shock and uncomfortable heck someone even asks him if he is sure that he wants to use that name due to the negative connotations it has.

While I do like the idea of izuku choosing the name because ochakos gave a new meaning to it I think that was just poorly done and showed how izuku was just attention starved at best.

Heck even in the final exam battle the teachers and some students saw how bakugo was treating midoriya yet bakugo receives no concequences for this and the narrative acts like aizawas plan of putting the two together was a great idea so they can somehow get along when there is clearly a horrible dynamic between the two. This also makes me think why the hell did all might not do anything about this?!?! Like come on all might you are literally witnessing bullying and it's your mentee getting bullied and you choose to do nothing ?!?!??

One of the reasons why bakugos apology and the whole 1A Vs izuku fight fails is because instead of them trying to properly reach out to him they literally beat him. This is also one of the reasons why iida's role is my favourite during that fight because he doesn't try and beat izuku or to harm him or to make Izuku deflect an attack. No, iida reaches for izuku and holds his hand while trying to encourage him to come back to UA and tires to comfort him.

Before the fight bakugo literally starts by taunting and insulting Izuku and at the same moment he also tries to apologise like he didn't do the thing a moment before?!?! Bakugo also never acknowledges just how his bullying and abuse for 10 years has effected izuku. He doesn't ack how the name deku has effected izuku or how he contributed to izuku's poor mental health. The narrative simply doesn't acknowledge it and so bakugo doesn't acknowledge it either, all bakugo does is simply offer an explanation as to why he thought he could bully izuku and to be honest that explanation was so stupid. Seriously, bakugos whole inferiority and superiority complex that he has going on is incredibly badly written.

[dyeher]

Warnings: single dad! baji, preschool teacher! reader.

Notes: this one right here could be- I mean- maybe…unedited read at your own risk.

Keisuke is panicking.

He keeps glancing in his rear view mirror at his little girl who’s happily humming along to whatever is playing from her iPad.

She doesn’t seem to share the same bone chilling fear as him. His grip on the steering wheel is tight enough that his knuckles have gone white.

They’re fifteen minutes away from his daughter’s official first day of school and Baji is five seconds away from turning this car around and taking her to work with him.

She giggles in the backseat and Baji swallows a lump of emotion and sighs when it settles in the pit of his stomach like lead.

“You excited princess?”

Her little head bobs, her pigtails (and the giant bows tied around each one) sways with the motion.

“Words Kaori, remember to use your words,” he reminds her.

“Yes daddy,” she replies, eyes falling to her iPad once more.

Baji gulps when the gates to the school come into view. He takes a deep breath and pulls into the driveway. The parking lot isn’t full because he’s twenty minutes early. When he finds a spot however his panic mounts.

This is real. This is happening. His daughter is starting school.

“We’re here!” she squeals when she finally looks up from the screen. She wriggles in her car seat, clearly wanting out.

Baji frowns.

“Daddy!” she insists. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Baji wants to cry. “Okay, princess. Okay,” he resigns himself to being miserable for the rest of the day. Perhaps for the rest of his existence. This is where it all starts. With school.

He hoists her out of the car seat and grabs her backpack and lunchbox. Keisuke is extremely proud of the fact that he, Keisuke Baji, despite his questionable past, has raised a daughter on his own.

He’d had to learn to comb and take care of hair other than his own (a lot goes into having healthy hair apparently), accept the color pink (of which there were over fifty shades), pretend tea parties didn’t make him uncomfortable (it’s the chairs), wear glitter make up (glitter can never be cleaned correctly), sing and dance (he’s a performer but only for her) and of course, what self respecting father of a girl hadn’t perfect mani/pedis.

His life had taken a dramatic three sixty when Kaori was born. But there wasn’t a single day since then that he regretted. He loves her more than he can actually put into words.

Which explained why he was on the verge of tears as he fit his arm through the strap of her sparkly, pink backpack and wrapped his hand around her much smaller one.

On the steps leading up to the front doors stood Kaori’s teacher. He’d met you previously when he’d registered Kaori and even then, dressed in jeans and a t shirt you’d been beautiful. His panic subsides a little when you give him a small smile.

“Mr. Baji,” you barely spare him a glance and Baji might have been insulted if not for the way your gaze immediately drops to his daughter. “And you must be little Kaori,” you squat to her level and Baji’s heart stutters. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! Your daddy has told me so much about you.”

“He has?” Kaori asks, and Baji lifts a brow at her when she turns to him with a skeptical look on her face.

“I have,” Baji replies. “This is your teacher Kaori,” he holds his breath as his daughter eyes you. Kaori Baji isn’t shy. In fact she’s one of the most outspoken kids he’s ever met. It’s easy to know when she dislikes someone or something because she has no problem pointing it out. It’s whether she likes someone or not that’s the real issue.

“Do you like tea parties?” Kaori asks, and Baji knows this is the million dollar question. One wrong answer and today could easily turn into a shit show.

“Oh,” you gush. “I love tea parties! Do you wanna see my tea set?”

Baji blinks, eyes widening when Kaori releases his hand and takes a step toward you. She nods and then as though catching herself she responds. “Yes, please.”

“Fantastic! But you’ll have to say goodbye to daddy,” you say carefully. “Is that okay?”

Baji’s breath leaves him in a pained rush. His panic coming back full force. He purses his lips, eyes glued to Kaori as she considers your request.

She turns to Baji motioning for him to come closer. He squats. “You have to go,” she says, and Baji’s heart shrivels.

“I know princess,” his throat burns, as he pulls the backpack from his shoulder and helps Kaori into it. “Will you be okay without me?”

Kaori gives him a look like she’s offended and Baji might have laughed under different circumstances. She frowns, stepping into his arms when he spreads them for her. Her little arms wrap around his neck tightly. Baji’s eyes close briefly, his heart thundering as he squeezes her. When he opens them he finds your eyes on him.

Kaori steps out of his arms. “I’ll be okay,” she confirms.

Keisuke glances from her to you and then back to her. “Okay,” he presses a kiss to her forehead, and stands. You stand with him and Kaori takes your hand.

“First days are always the hardest,” you comment.

Baji can only smile weakly at you as you guide Kaori deeper into the school. His daughter turns and gives him a short dismissive wave before turning her full attention on you.

Baji stands there long enough that the parking lot starts to fill up.

She’ll be fine he tells himself when he finally forced himself to leave. She’s a big girl he repeats as he forced himself not to think about what could be happening to her now.

It’s only a couple of hours, she’ll be fine.

[novelizt]

I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ angst + fluff, fake relationship

SYNOPSIS ➺ you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press and give his company publicity.

WC ➺ 10.9k

DISCLAIMER ➺ actress! reader. the fic also sings the "all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret" beat. lockwood calls reader "darling" and "starlet" because... you'll read why. i'm not sure if The Daily Gazette is a real thing. if it is, i mean no slander — this is merely fiction and I needed a publication name.

NOTE ➺ this is for the oldest/only child who takes on a lot for their family — i see you. also, imagine the nick-priyanka chair pull; i like to think that it's lockwood and darling in a nutshell. my ideas were all over the place so this came out a bit messier than i anticipated, but it is lockwood content so i hope you enjoy! especially you, @t2sh0 !!

They say the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first. That was probably what the gazette was counting on, at least.

Ever since you stepped into the limelight, and shortly earned the title of London's Darling, they made a dime a dozen in making your business their business. They would sing your name to high praise one moment then drag it through the mud the next.

You were content with letting them run their mouths, because it was no skin off your nose, but you drew the line at insulting your family.

Someone at the gazette thought it would be absolutely riveting to write about the dirt poor origins you were raised from. In the article, they not only criticized you, but put your parents under a microscope as well.

"All that really happened is, their daughter put on diamonds and called herself a queen," the Daily Gazette said. "It's only about time until they return to their roots—of which aren't much."

They insinuated that you might not even be your father's daughter—or if you were, it wouldn't be long 'til you came out to be as ill as he was. They called your mother weak for not being as proacticve in generating money, and you a fool for being their lapdog. No one in their right mind would just sit and let a publication sully their name like that.

If they were going to make up hullabaloo, you were going to step ahead and give them something else to talk about, and what better play than having London's Darling Starlet fall in love?

It had came to your attention that the gazette had set their eyes on one agency in particular: Lockwood and Company. Specifically one, Anthony Lockwood.

Where they besmirched your name, they glorified his. The kid was talented at weaving through a conversation, you'd give him that. From what you'd read, you already knew he liked being in the glare of publicity.

You were taking a gamble when you walked right up to their statute of work without a disguise. If the someone at the gazette saw you, you hoped that they would get the ball rolling. All that would be left to do is recruit Mr. Lockwood.

But Lockwood hadn't been the one to greet you at the door. You tried not to appear too shocked, but no one really expects to see someone geared in oversized cleaning gear. Whoever it was looked more alien than human.

"Arif's?" the curly haired boy inquired.

You were tempted to scratch your head, because what in the world was an 'Arifs'?

You were conjuring up a response, but then the boy was shoved aside. The girl who had taken his placed looked both inquisitive and sleep-deprived at the same time. Some kind of recognition happened in her eyes and you smiled, mirroring hers.

The curly haired boy looked positively disturbed by it.

"Hello," you said delicately. "does Mr. Lockwood happen to be in at the moment?"

"He is," the girl said. "You must be the Darling of London. I've seen you in the papers. My friend, Norrie, would be so happy if you could—"

"Luce?"

You weren't usually struck by strangers but you knew right away, that it must be him: Anthony Lockwood. He had the timbre and tone of a well-trained celebrity. It was no wonder the gazette was tripping over themselves to write him.

"Lucy's busy smiling at the Darling of London, or whatever she called her," the curly-haired boy reported, akin to a child who wanted to see their sibling be scolded.

"George," Lockwood turned his attention with a terse intonation. "why don't you pop on the kettle?"

George's smirk fell. He muttered something at Lucy before retreating to the door beside the stairwell. The wide berth he left gave you your first glimpse of the gazette's most recent favorite.

Anthony Lockwood was a spectacle in a suit and tie, looking exactly like his pictures in the papers. He cleaned up nicely enough. You just couldn't help but wince at the disarray his hair was in.

"Lucy, will you please?" Lockwood gave Lucy a look. She cast a glance at you before hesitantly joining George in the kitchen.

You made a mental note to ask about her friend, Norrie, later. It's the least you could do for her saving you from George.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lockwood turned his attention back to you. He leaned easily against the doorframe, giving off the impression that he was conversational enough, even if you weren't being very good at being polite.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co., I'm Anthony Lockwood," he said courteously, flashing a smile that would make the press go crazy. You've seen just one like it on cast mates, but he had done it so well you know he'd practiced to get it perfect, or maybe he was naturally good at smiling. You wouldn't know. His voice waded through your reverie. "How can we help you?"

"The kind of help I need isn't a usual request, Mr. Lockwood," you said forwardly. You glanced over his shoulder before offering a chaste smile. "May I come in?"

—

You didn't expect an audience of three after being lead to the receiving room. Then again, you should have. The reasonable assumption was that you were here for ghost-related troubles. You weren't sure how to clarify that you weren't.

You accepted a cup of tea and took in the air in the room before proceeding. Lockwood was sat right across from you, attentively bent toward you. Lucy was trying to keep on a amiable façade in her seat (likely to get a signature for her friend). George was... being himself. He was an odd one, but he had rid himself of his space suit, so that was nice. None of them seemed to be hostile though. That was always a good thing.

"I have a personal favor to ask of you," you started. You rested your hands over your knees, retaining your resolution. "and it involves the recent rumors about me."

"Which one? The one about your prissy attitude or the inevitable downfall of your entire family?" George wasn't as ignorant as he made himself out to be. He took a sip of tea when Lucy glared his way. Lockwood didn't look too surprised by his snide, George must regularly be like this.

You stifled a laugh of your own, amused by his forward nature. "Both, to be honest. The gazette has been generous with their slander lately." You tapped your finger on your knee. "One can only take so much . . . That's what brought me here. I need your help to keep them under control. You'll be properly compensated, of course."

"Miss Darling—" Lockwood started. It wasn't your name but you let it be since he sounded genuine enough. "—we are a psychical agency. What you're asking, it's out of our area of expertise."

"I am aware of that, but I'm not making this request to Lockwood & Co.," you said firmly. You steeled yourself when you set your eyes on him. He flinched under the intensity. "I'm asking you directly, Mr. Lockwood."

George hunched forward, unsuccessfully staunching a laugh. Lucy had straightened in her seat, eyes bugged out of her head. And Lockwood? The surprise on his face couldn't have been fake. He blinked and blinked, but his brain couldn't catch up.

You went on. "My family's been involved. I can't sit idly by while their names are being tarnished. I need something to dissolve those rumors, or at least distract the public enough to forget about them."

He cleared his throat but it was clear he was still ruffled by your earlier admission. "And how would I contribute to that?"

You tried to sound professional, but even your most prim tone sounded odd when it came to a request like this. "I need you to court me."

George stopped trying to muffle his laughter. He even grew bold enough to take a biscuit to snack on. "This is rich. 'Court' and 'Lockwood' in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day. You're better off with someone like Quill Kipps, Miss Darling—was it? At least he can act."

Lockwood shot a glare at George but he didn't budge, smiling as he devoured his biscuit. Lucy had recovered and gave her two cents. "George is right. Lockwood doesn't have the best track record in terms of subtlety."

Lockwood looked affronted. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."

"You're right," George said gleefully, smiling at you with his eyes. "He's worse."

"You know what," Lockwood said with renewed inspiration. "I'll help you, Miss Darling. Regardless of what my colleagues have to say." He turned his attention to you. You almost cracked a smile at the sheer determination in his complexion. Anthony Lockwood clearly despised being bad at anything. "I'm at your service, starting this very second." He poked the table to enunciate every word. Amused didn't feel like an apt word to describe what you were feeling.

"I was hoping you'd be the opposite of subtle," you said with a polite smile. "You're an enigma to the gazette, Mr. Lockwood. I need you to attract as much attention to us as you can."

He lifted his chin with that award-winning smile. "Consider it done."

George was still grinning to himself, finishing off his biscuit with a dodgy sort of laugh. Lucy had thrown herself back, likely holding in a sigh by the way her shoulders sunk.

Regardless, you felt hope rush through you as you reached across the table, sealing the deal with a handshake that shouldn't have been half as memorable as it was.

—

Lucy's Norrie had set off the domino effect, and you would be forever grateful for it. It didn't take long for the gazette to catch wind and write up their narrative.

!! LOCKWOOD & CO.'S SPECIAL CONNECTION TO LONDON'S DARLING

Recipients, it has come to our attention that London's Darling has shipped out a special signed poster for a friend from Lockwood & Co. The two parties have never had an interaction prior to this instance. We suspect a budding alliance from two very distinct worlds. More about Lockwood & Co.'s most recent escapade on page 7!

It was the first time you finished reading an article without your jaw tensing. It was doing well for your family's temperaments as well. Your mother was now inquiring about the blooming relationship between you and a certain someone instead of agonizing over the manic rumors told about the family. Whenever asked, you feigned ignorance and left the conversation at that.

—

The next time the gazette wrote about London's Darling and Lockwood & Co., it had been about a genuine act of kindness that had been caught on camera.

The trio had finished up a case late in the morning and you dropped by to gift them a hearty breakfast. You didn't intend for the gazette to pick up on the minute interaction, but they always found ways to weasel their way into things. If you didn't despise them so, you would have given them credit for their tenacity.

!! LONDON'S DARLING NOW BECOMING THE DARLING OF LOCKWOOD & CO.

Recipients, an insider recounts the story of seeing our Darling at 35 Portland Row. Coincidentally, the official offices for the psychical agency, Lockwood & Co. She narrates that the starlet had hand-delivered doughnuts and some other necessities; Actively taking time out of her bustling schedule to tend to the operatives she has recently befriended. For the first time since her limelight debut, she has a heart! Our insider also notes a particularly bright smile from the agency's founder and boss, Anthony Lockwood. Is this another one of our Darling's summer flings? See page 4 for news about Darling's controversial role in unveiled coming-of-age film.

You saw a couple reading the recent print as you were walking to Portland Row. They were particularly giggly, so it was safe to assume that the public was falling for your theatrics.

You arrived to Lockwood's abode with a smile.

—

"The gazette's gone feral, haven't they?" George exasperated, throwing the paper on the table after he had cut out Lockwood & Co's bit in the headlines. "You didn't even have to try for this one, did you?"

"Not at all," you chuckled. "They have a way of finding out, even if we don't mean for them to."

"They could have chosen a better picture," Lockwood murmured, eyes permanently narrowed at the cut-out George had hung on their wall. "I did not look that worn out that morning."

"I can't remember it, so I can't lie," Lucy said passively. She slid a pot of tamarind soup through the disarray of cups and papers. It gave you a wider glimpse of the doodles on the cloth. Lockwood had explained the nuance of the doodles earlier. You strongly believed anyone would find the scrawled notes (and insults) endearing.

You leaned over the table as the fragrance of the soup wafted into the air, like tendrils of smoke tempting you for a taste. You held back a smile and tried not to stare at their dinner for too long. You had more self-control than that, but, despite your best efforts, your stomach had a mind of its own.

Your stomach didn't usually rumble but it had chosen that specific moment to do so. You tried to play it off but the members of Lockwood & Co. had already paused in their steps, turning to you with varying levels of surprise. George looked disturbed; Lucy, startled; and Lockwood, amused.

"Hungry?" Lockwood asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," you waved off. He saw right through your stoicism with a growing smile. "It was just a stomach cramp," you insisted.

He didn't move his eyes away from you as he pulled out a chair, but didn't sit in it. "Can't send you home with your belly doing that, can we, George?"

"The gazette might as well write us up for being terrible hosts," George said agreeably.

Lucy set out an additional plate and bowl. "We have a reputation to uphold, you know."

There was an air of something you couldn't quite place. You saw Lockwood's smile first, amused and welcoming all at once. From the corner of your eye, you found George and Lucy doing the same. There was no other word that could describe the moment other than 'warm'. With a feeble smile, you sat in the chair Lockwood had pulled out for you and tried not to look like a mangy raccoon in the midst of a famine.

Only when the sound of clinking cutlery and plates filled the room did you muster the courage to speak again. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it, Starlet," Lockwood said, nudging your side. "You're the reason our clients have been burgeoning lately."

"Who knew a movie star had so much influence?" George asked rhetorically. "If we keep this up, we might be able to afford more biscuits."

"Even if that happens, the biscuit rule stays," Lucy stated, pointing her spoon at George.

There was always something gleefully odd about this place. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up. "What is this biscuit rule?" you asked, looking between all three of them.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Lockwood promised, carefully placing a bowl of soup next to your plate. "Eat. You must be starving."

You withheld the urge to smile but found that, even with your experties in pretending, you had a hard time acting in the company of Lockwood and Co.

—

"How strict is the biscuit rule rotation?" you inquired Lucy.

You had never experienced sleeping over at someone else's house. Doing so, at your mature age, felt a little zany. Not that you could do much about it.

The expert (Anthony John Lockwood) was firm about not letting you walk home at this dark hour. Even more so because the sun had set earlier than expected. Hence, the reason you found yourself rooming with Lucy for the night.

"Strict," was Lucy's answer; half with you, half not. She was at the vanity, writing in a journal. Likely for her friend, Norrie—if their names scribbled on the front was anything to go by. She looked so focused, you would have guessed she was aspiring to out-write the folks at the Daily Gazette.

Defeated, you heaved a sigh and submitted yourself to a few moments of quiet in a place so unfamiliar.

The bed bounced under your weight. The springs you heard in the mattress reminded of you of home, yet, the stars on the ceiling reminded you that you weren't. Most of them clung on but some had fallen off, leaving behind star-shaped irregularities in the paint. You counted four fallen stars before you were reeled back by the feeling of another weight falling beside you.

"Comfortable, Miss Darling?"

Lockwood.

You righted your posture. He sat up with you, taken-aback by your shift in demeanor.

"Yes," you said stiffly, combing down your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay the night."

"I couldn't let you go in good conscience," he said offhandedly. "Don't be tense. I'm only here to offer pajamas."

Your eyes found the neat pile stacked right beside him. The little act of kindness had warranted him a smile, one he returned with equal sheepishness.

"Thank you," you said again.

"It's no trouble." He flourished his hand as he said it. The springs creaked again when he shuffled off the bed. "Sleep well, Miss Darling."

"My name or just 'Darling' is fine, Mr. Lockwood. 'Miss' is much too formal."

"It's Anthony then, darling." He said it with such resounding charm, you almost regret allowing him to continue on that way. "Sleep well," he trailed off.

He stared at you, like he was looking for something in you. You were accustomed to getting weird, prolonged glances in the street, but you felt conscious when it was him. You blamed it on First Sleep-over Jitters. When you finally averted your gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. With a noncommital smile, he jerked a thumb at the door. "I'm right downstairs if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Anthony." As you said it, you couldn't shake the feeling similar to stepping into a classroom for the first time. There was a flash of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression, back to his notorious smile.

You wouldn't have known, but he couldn't shake the thought that he'd never heard his name sound so nice before.

He held back a smile as he said, "Goodnight then, darling."

You did worse at hiding yours. "Goodnight, Anthony."

You said his name so carefully, he ought to think he was important. Even if the smiles exchanged were bashful, it encapsulated his world.

He retreated to the steps, halting to occasionally look at you before Lucy had gotten sick of his snail pace and told him to bugger off. She had taken her side of the bed when her journal entry for Norrie was finished.

"Is he always that odd?" you asked her, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were light, but they weighed much more to you. Who could blame you for admiring a simple shirt and pajama pants? That was your first sleep-over, after all.

Past your ogling, you could still hear Lucy's voice through the door. "Who, Lockwood? Not usually. Suppose he wants to make a good impression."

"Because I'm your highest paying client?" you inquired in a sing-song tone, slipping the shirt over your head. You should have expected the smell of lavender to engulf you.

Lucy snorted, laying back on her pillows. "Because he's a fan, Miss Darling."

"You can call me by my name, Ms. Carlyle," you chuckled, trying to keep your tone even as you examine which way the pajama pants go.

"And you can call me by mine, Miss Darling," she retorted.

When you got your pajama situation under control, you poked your head out of he door. "Touché, Lucy."

She tipped her invisible hat. "I try, Miss Darling."

"Is my name ugly?" You questioned, tone bordering on a sigh. You set yourself down on the vacant side of her bed, planting straight into the pillow on contact. "Just tell me that it is, I won't be offended. Why else would people avoid it like the plague?"

"Miss Darling does sound odd, doesn't it? In my opinion, it's quite regal. You should change your surname to it, honestly. The word just fits you."

You exhaled, catching sight of the stars on the ceiling once more. "And who gave you that absurd idea?"

"Lockwood did," she told you, taking you by surprise. You physically reeled at the fact. "He watched—What was the name of that film again?—Timeless. You played the teenage version of the main character. He wouldn't shut up about the movie for ages, said your character was his favorite. I believe her name was—"

"Darling..." you whispered the same time she said it.

"—and he kept going on and on and on about how you were the epitome of the word. He wouldn't put a stopper on it," Lucy shook her head, recalling his raving vividly. "We couldn't get him to shut up, even while we were off on fieldwork. Eventually, it stuck with us. I couldn't unsee you as 'Miss Darling'. Then the press started calling you 'The Darling of London'. It only proved his case. If there was a word more fitting than 'insufferable', 'Lockwood' would be it."

You believed snorting was the only correct response to that.

"I'm surprised he hasn't fallen over himself trying to impress you," she chuckled. Lucy crossed her arms over her belly, cozying up to her pillow. "Don't tell him I told you though. He might take away my turn in the biscuit rotation. He can be petty like that."

"Sounds childish," you muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Lucy said with a shrug. "He already thinks he's God's gift."

"He's in the good graces of the Daily Gazette. So, he's close enough to it for me," you chuckled.

"Only you would think that." Lucy shook her head. "Go to sleep, Miss Darling. Else you'll have nightmares 'bout him."

"Is that a real warning?"

Lucy shut off the lights. "Yes," she said into the dark.

It was far too late for you. Just seeing the gentle limerence on the ceiling brought your thoughts right back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Lockwood couldn't put his mind to rest either. Him knowing you were just a stairwell away was an involuntary shot of adrenaline.

—

Amusement parks smelt like burned popcorn and sugar. It was unbearably noisy but the neon lights and the shining attractions negated the cons. Lockwood thought he might just kiss you for bringing them here on a Thursday.

There were enough people to make the place feel alive but it wasn't so crowded that they couldn't get on the rides they wanted to try.

He namely appreciated that fact because Lucy and George didn't look too upset about being out of their element. They looked excited, even. Lucy was glancing at a shooting game and George was oddly fascinated by the horror house.

As if driving them here wasn't surprise enough, you dropped a heavy pouch in each of their palms with the simple instruction to knock themselves out.

After agreeing to meet up before dark, the group broke into three. Lucy went off to win herself a rapier, George was off to scare the clowns in the horror house, and Lockwood was trailing behind you.

"You can do your own thing, Anthony," you reassured, lined up for cotton candy. "I can handle myself in daylight."

"Darling, I'm a gentleman. I can't leave a dame alone in such a vast scape," he replied, bold enough to tap your nose. "What kind of make-believe boyfriend would I be if I did?"

He was amused by the way you rolled your eyes. Lockwood was convinced that only you could make something so trivial so enigmatic. Warmth prickled on your cheeks, turning them the same shade of pink as the cotton candy the store owner handed to you. You ordered one for Lockwood before telling him, "Press isn't here—they'd have to pay the tall entrance fee to enter. At ease, soldier."

"Negative. I'm staying by you—as a very concerned friend," he rebutted with resolve, asking for a brief pause to receive the cotton cone spun for him. "Is that so bad?"

"I thought you three deserved to enjoy some time away from work," you confessed.

You didn't know where to head so Lockwood steered you toward a bench, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back. It took all your effort to keep your expression neutral but you continued to chatter, biting down the urge to grin like an idiot.

The only way you knew how to distract yourself was to speak. And speak, you did. "You're either working with ghouls or with me for you know what. I thought you'd be sick of me by now," you joked.

"Of you? Never."

He said it like it wasn't an arrow straight to your heart, and you couldn't shirk the feeling that you should have prepared yourself better. He was Anthony Lockwood, after all.

Like the heathen he is, took a sizeable bite out of his fluff of cotton candy. In your favor, your attention was drawn somewhere else. His upper lip was crusted in princess pink sugar and he was flashing his princely smile, completely unaware of his mustache. You pressed your lips together to keep your laugh in.

He lowered his head, trying to meet your eyes, to no avail. You screwed them shut and curled into yourself to keep your composure.

He cocked a brow. "Cute as you are, I want to know what are you laughing about."

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. You took a glance at him and snorted.

With a pinched expression, he looked at himself in the reflection of a metal stall then he rubbed the sugar away with the sleeve of his coat, scarlet tinging his ears.

"Never speak of this," he told you.

You mimed yourself zipping your lips and he nodded, satisfied.

Your composure broke the moment he crossed his arms and hunched into himself like a kid.

—

You'd been to that same amusement park many times in your life. You rode the same rides back when you were a starlet in the entertainment world. You won the same prizes when you wanted to impress your parents. You ate the same food you did when you were a tyke.

All those memories, and none of them compared to experiencing all of it with Anthony John Lockwood. His incandescence weaved into every new memory, leaving his face seared into the back of your eyelids. Even if you tried to deny it, the pain in your cheeks reminded you that you spend hours on end smiling with him or at him.

Despite your best efforts, his presence made you feel something you never expected to feel for anyone. There was no word for it, and you refused to give it a name.

When the sky theatened to turn orange, you snagged his arm and drove him all the way to your favorite ride. Even if you craned your neck all the way, you could never see the top of the ferris wheel. Perhaps Lockwood could, but you were too timid to ask.

The decorative lights looked weak in daylight but it was magical nonetheless. Nothing could complete your day like hopping into your favorite gondola and seeing the park from all the way up.

When you pulled him back, he had to complain. "That one was empty." Lockwood frowned at the dandy green gondola that circled past.

"No, no. We can't take that one, it has to be this one."

Lockwood had never seen so much excitement shine through your usually collected demeanor. It was like a breath of fresh air. He couldn't bring himself to fight you on it.

When the coral pink gondola swung to a stop and creaked its doors open, you pulled him right into its bowels. The interior was vandalized with countless pens and markers. Even in the chaos, he recognized your penmanship. It was messier than it was now but it was undeniably yours. Only you swooped your 'y's that extravagantly.

Someday soon, I'm going to be the biggest star you'll ever see!

Some of the ink was scratched off but the message stood the test of time. He wondered if you remember even writing it, but one glance at you told him all he needed to know. You paid no mind to the vandalism, eyes enthralled by the rising view outside. He felt his cheeks ache from the beginnings of a smile. He forced it down when you laid your eyes on him.

"Just wait 'til we reach the top. The pathways form a giant star if you look down. There's nothing quite like it."

Endeared, he asked, "How did you find that out?"

If your smile was anything to go by, the memory was very fond to you. "The first time I passed an audition, my parents took me up here and told me to look down. I was terrified of heights back then but they told me some things were worth conquering fears for." You let out a seraphic laugh at the memory. "I saw the giant star . . . and I swore that I'd be a bigger star than it one day; that all their sacrifices would be worth it. They did their best to support me and my pipe dream. I would pay back their labor, ten-fold."

"And you did," Lockwood said in an out-of-breath kind of way. You didn't know what to make of it.

"And I did," you whispered in reply. "I even scribbled my promise somewhere in here. I don't remember where exactly. May have been scratched off."

"Maybe," Lockwood chuckled, leaning his side against the wall; hiding your kiddish penmanship from your view. He had no explanation as to why he did, but he'd rather you to focus on the present. You achieved a lot between then and now. He thought it was much nicer to look forward than to look back.

He didn't realize how long the trip to the top would be. The silence didn't feel tense or forced, it was comfortable. Like an air of understanding had made the air warm instead of still.

Perhaps it was you and how unguarded you had become since stepping into the gondola, but all he knew was that your honest heart inspired him to be brave. He took a leap in a brightly painted gondola, miles up from the ground, just about to touch the clouds.

"My family would have loved seeing this," he said.

Your eyes tore away from the view to look at him. Curiosity whirling in those eyes of yours. "Where is your family? I don't think I've seen them. Are they abroad?"

When you looked at him like that, he forgot all his fears. "They aren't around anymore."

Your expression heartened. You turned all your attention to him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he interrupted you, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I want you to know."

Your lips quivered, forming something that was a half-smile, half-frown. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know." His eyes fell to his knees, picking at the frays of his coat sleeves to distract himself. "My parents were researchers. They wanted to know what rituals other cultures had to communicate with spirits and keep themselves safe. They were working when they passed away. My sister, Jessica, she was ghost-touched." Everything came out when he was looking directly at you. Knowing you were paying attention was solace enough. "You should have seen the ghost when I was done with him, ha. As for my family . . . Even if they're not around anymore, they continue to remind me of the most valuable lessons. I do my best to never forget."

"Must be why you're so protective of Lucy and George," you said lightly, offering him a sunrise of a smile that brought back the color into the world.

"I am," he said with renewed confidence. "I'd do anything for them."

"Like make deals with prissy, troubled actresses?" you jested, bumping your knee against his.

His lips twitched, threatening a smile. "Yeah." He bumped his knee to yours but didn't move away, content with being close to you in any way you'd have him. "Exactly."

A smile crept up your face. "You have a wonderful family now, Anthony."

"I would say the same but I realize I haven't met them yet."

You threw your head back, laughing. The sound was so precious, he wished he had half the hearing of Lucy to remember it well. "Someday, Anthony. Someday..."

"I'll hold you to it."

The light that filtered in turned yellow, touching your face with gold. The sun was dipping between the far hills and, finally, your gondola had reached the pinnacle of the wheel.

You gently cupped his chin to turn his attention to the view. Your touch made his breath hitch, but the view had successfully stolen the air from his lungs. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted just how breath-taking the view was.

True to your word, the amusement park was laid out in a way that made the pathways draw a star—the stall lights that began to appear accentuated the shape. The stripped roofs of the attractions were like swirling patterns that encircled the the display. For lack of a better word, it was stupendous.

Your voice matched the sereneness of the moment. "My grandparents said that seeing fireworks from the top of a ferris wheel was an experience like no other, but with the Problem and the curfew, we might never be able to see something like it..."

"Wouldn't hurt to dream though, would it?"

You chuckled. "No, it wouldn't..."

Vaguely, in the reflection of the window, he saw your smile. A true, unfiltered smile. It's the brightest you'd ever appeared to him, and it was worlds better than the view you were gawking over.

The magic fizzled when the gondola began to decend, bringing you closer to earth and away from the utopia in the middle of a ferris wheel.

He couldn't recognize you once your mask came back on. Lockwood didn't realize why until he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye.

The gazette had spilled coffee all over a perfectly good day.

—

!! LOCKWOOD'S DARLING

Recipients, we can confirm that there is a blooming romance between London's favorite Starlet and Lockwood & Co.'s charismatic leader. In the middle of a busy week for both individuals, they set aside time for a romantic ferris wheel ride in Starcrest Amusement Park—an ideal recreational venue for families and couples. See also: additional reports from our inside sources on page 7.

!! A DARLING'S DARLING

Recipients, we have more news on London's most fetching young couple. Both Darling and Lockwood have been growing bolder in putting their relationship in the spotlight. Recent reports state that Darling had invited Lockwood and Company to her film set — a feat of trust we haven't seen from her until she'd been swept of her feet by her latest and only suitor, Anthony Lockwood. He even presented her a bouquet of her favored flowers upon visiting. Backstage photographs from our insider on page 3!

!! A NOT VERY INVISIBLE STRING

Recipients, London's most captivating young couple was spotted wearing matching red-string bracelets, shifting to the 'private but not secret' path in their relationship. However, we always fetch you the ripest updates on their heart-stopping romance. More on page 4!

—

You were more than pleased by the sound of swishing newspaper and the snip of scissors. George had extracted another pretty picture of the recent news and hung it on the wall of achievements.

"Featured on a handful of headlines and it hasn't even been a year," Lockwood said, sounding very pleased with himself. He barely lifted a finger and Lockwood and Co. already had five additional clippings to their wall. "Gazette patrons are calling in to have us take care of visitors with all this media exposure." He set his hands on the stair newel and set his chin on them, looking up at you. It may have been a trick of a light but he was more radiant from where you were standing. "I have you to thank for that."

"You're the one helping me," you smiled. "I haven't heard a bad word about myself or my family. The peace is . . . unsettling. They really are bent on painting you as a saint, Anthony."

"Am I not?" he smiled.

You returned it, just as joyous. "That's the charisma I need for my birthday ball."

That made him straighten and grow brighter, if that were possible. "Birthday ball?"

You nodded, returning your eyes to Lockwood & Co.'s wall of accomplishments. "Lucy and George, too. It's a black tie event, and, yes, you may bring your rapiers."

He tilted his head, jarred. "What kind of people will be in attendance if we're allowed rapiers?"

"The most terrifying kind," you said with exaggerated dread, starting for the door. "Extended family I don't know well and journalists."

He sped ahead, clicking the door open for you. "Petrifying."

"Very," you chuckled. "Can I expect you to be there?"

He leaned toward you and you deluded yourself to believe he was doing so for his own benefit, but you knew damn well that there was a camera in the corner of your eye. Lockwood had caught sight of it before you, crowding you against the doorframe to paint the stomach-fluttering picture of a boy who simply couldn't resist being near his girl.

The idea was far more appealing than it was supposed to be.

His voice sounded saccharine up close. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

You titlted your head. "What for?"

"It's common courtesy to gift the in-laws. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared." He grinned at you, and you couldn't help but return it.

"She likes roses, and my dad is a fan of Ferrero Rochers."

"Noted," he chirped. He tugged a strand of your hair lightly before pulling away, taking his warmth with him.

You mustered a convincing enough smile. "Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodbye, darling starlet."

He should have known you were going to do something. You grew up under the limelight, after all.

You've kissed many boys but he hoped you don't kiss them like you kissed him. Truthfully, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but he'd recall the feeling of your lips at the most untimely moments. He was ghost-touched because he couldn't shirk it.

—

You gave them a plot of the house. So, they did expect your house to be massive. What you did not tell them was the fact that your birthday ball was a masquerade ball. Lockwood was quite struck as he watched people file in with half their faces concealed under frivolously decorated masks. Lucy and George were just as confused.

"You're sure you didn't hear her say anything about this?" Lucy asked, hugging her arms as the evening chill began to creep in.

"Positively. Would I lie about something like this?" Lockwood replied, readjusting his grip on the generous bouquet of roses.

"Lie or not, we have to head in eventually. Unless your girl has a butler or handmaid who'd fetch us," George nipped. It was bad enough that Lockwood had forced him into a suit, but he had to stand in the freezing cold while passerbys walked right into the grandeur of your family's estate. The chandeliers casted gold silhouettes across the shadows. George bet it was warm in there. "Perhaps a visitor will come put us out of our misery."

"Keep your shirt on, George," Lockwood said firmly. "Perhaps having us enter without decoration was her intention."

"Who goes to a masquerade ball without a mask?" George scoffed.

"Lockwood & Co., apparently." Lucy rolled her eyes. She cast a nervous glance behind her but found lanterns had been lit. They smelt of lavender, reassuring her that despite your family's reputation, you weren't ignorant to the Problem. "Shall we head inside or face the treacherous cold?"

Lockwood, thoroughly done with their snideness, promptly decided on the former. He rolled his shoulders back and righted his posture before joining the line to the threshold.

"I see a buffet," Lucy said with new-found energy. Suddenly, the cold wasn't so unforgiving.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" George inquired. Even if he did his best to keep his tone even, they caught the subtle intonation on the word 'chocolate'.

"Compose yourselves," Lockwood reminded primly. "we are representatives of the agency as well as guests, so, do try to mingle before losing yourselves in the smorgasbord."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Lockwood didn't know who said what, but he knew their answers were merely supplementary. They would bolt for the buffet as soon as the made it past the front door. At least their concerns about the lack of disguise were put to rest.

As they neared the doors, the warmth from the inside began to thaw away their frigidness. By the time they stepped into your abode, they were swallowed by the luxury. The word 'cold' didn't exist in a place as decadent as this.

The velvet curtains were pulled back fully, showcasing ceiling-length windows that glimmered with reflections of your guests, . A large chandelier illuminated the ballroom, washing everyone in supple, golden light. It brought out everyone's best features. Even the floor was polished so perfectly, it could have been a mirror.

If he didn't know better, Lockwood would have thought he walked right into a fairytale. He didn't realize Lucy and George had made their escape until he looked behind himself to find them gone.

He didn't have to idle by for very long. Like how sun rays pierce through storm clouds, you parted the crowd. You shone under the chandelier-light, a star put on earth, and you smiled so brightly he had to think you only smile like that for him. Lockwood lost his words, but his mouth was moving.

You were chuckling when you neared. Only when you dodged the roses and leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek did he realize that you didn't supply yourself with a mask either. His earlier guess had been right.

Whatever mirage he was in the middle of was cut through by two more figures coming into view; your parents, most likely. You resembled them a lot.

His joints went rigid but he was experienced enough to project an easygoing energy. All while he repressed bubbling exclamations.

He played on his best smile and reached for your father's outstretched hand. They met in the middle for a firm handshake.

"You must be the lad our little darling speaks so highly of," Mr. Darling chuckled. He had the kind of smile that put everyone in the room at ease. It reached his eyes. He must be the one you inherited your eye-smile from. A nail of guilt hit him right on the head because it was obvious that the man didn't know his daughter's romance was a fad. "Anthony, is it?"

"You're correct," Lockwood said amiably. His smile widened as he watched your mother's eyes gravitate to the bouquet of roses. "Anthony Lockwood, at your service, sir. And ma'am . . . These are for you." He offered the arrangement to your mother, who accepted them with the grace of a royal. You must have inherited that from her. He would have found it adoring if another strike of guilt didn't come down on him.

"How courteous," your mother said, hiding a smile behind her newly acquired bouquet. Her eyes moved to you and you shared a look Lockwood didn't quite understand. His stomach churned. Your mother then shot a peculiar look at him — like she could see right through him. It made his blood run cold.

Lockwood didn't have the option to ponder on it. Your father had seized Lockwood's attention with a firm pat on the shoulder. Lockwood had to tense his back to keep himself from toppling over.

As grayed as your father was, he had the kind of voice that commanded authority. "Don't be coy, boy. You can call us Ma and Pa. If our little starlet likes you enough to introduce you to us, you must be something special."

Lockwood glanced at you, momentarily paused by your smile. "She's the special one between us, sir—"

"Pa," your father corrected.

"Pa," Lockwood rectified smilingly. He wasn't sure what about it made him feel so melancholic and comforted at the same time. "I should be groveling at her feet. I'm very lucky to have caught her attention."

"I like the way you talk. It's no wonder she's so taken by you, Anthony."

Your father surprised Lockwood with a boisterous laugh. He was sure the room tremored for a moment. Lockwood was happy enough to laugh with him, the same time his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

The exchange was interrupted by your mother's squeal of delight. She had found the Ferrero Rochers laying in the bed of roses. She, with bright eyes, brandished them to her husband and Mr. Darling looked positively thrilled by the surprise.

"And thoughtful, too." Your father gave Lockwood the kind of nod you'd only get after you ask for their daughter's hand in marriage. "He's a keeper, little darling."

Lockwood's smile shook. Your mother looked at him strangely once more. He tried to regained himself.

Guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

It was drowning him, yet, he kept his cool. (At least, tried to.) You didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude.

You, with your rosy cheeks and resplendent smile, hooked your arm with Lockwood's and said, "I know, pa. That's the plan."

—

"That was not the plan," Lockwood respired, loosening his tie as soon as he stepped into open air. Even when he breathed in lavender, his lungs felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

You had lead him to a balcony to give him a moment of reprieve only to be met with a glare. So much for being bad at acting, you were convinced his earlier niceties were real.

You regarded him with crossed arms, your cool façade practically a wall between you. "I invited, and you came. That's all that happened here."

"You made a spectacle of me," he rasped, his breath coming out as frost. "I would have been alright with that, but you brought your parents into this. They don't even know you're doing this, do they?"

The way he motioned between you as he said 'this' made you feel like someone's dirty secret. The way you faltered was laughable. Your heart clenched and your nails dug into your palms. You replied the only way you knew how: stronger.

"I don't see what the big issue is, Anthony," you scoffed. "I pay you, you do as I say. What if my parents don't know it's a ploy? The point is to set the stage for the press. I told you that."

"God," he laughed without feeling, raking a hand through his hair. He was heaving like he had just ran a marathon, face turning red. "You don't get it do you? We don't play with people. I don't want to play with people. And that's your family, starlet! Does it not bother you that you are lying to their faces?"

"No, it doesn't," you replied, stoically, standing your ground. "and neither should you. You know I'm doing this for them."

"Are you?" Where you stepped back, he stepped forward. He scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's ironic that a whole ballroom of people hiding behind masks are more honest with themselves than you are to yourself."

"What are you implying?" Your words come out through gritted teeth.

He stood tall, more intimidating than you'd ever seen him. The gauntness in his eyes were more pronounced then. His stature made your composure slip. His words made your knees buckle. "You're an actress. You're a professional at what you do. Even in your own home, you have a façade. Maybe you are, in some twisted way, doing this for the sake of your family, but I can't see that anymore. You're stringing them along . . . As far as I can see, you're just as bad as the gazette makes you out to be. I don't even know if you've been lying to me for the sake of keeping your mask on."

You feel the full force of his words drop down on you. Taking a few steps isn't enough to quiet the rush of throughts crowding your mind. All you see is his despondent face and a hundred and one headlines flash before your eyes.

He takes your hand—making you wish the circumstances were different—before he dropped his red-string bracelet into your palm. It felt heavier than it was supposed to. You couldn't pry your eyes away.

When he turned and left, your thoughts turned into white noise. He had taken every joy with him, deserting you in the muted chatter of what was supposed to be a celebration.

—

!! TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Recipients, it is to our sorrow that the couple that took the country by storm, Darling and Lockwood, seems to have called it quits. Lockwood no longer flaunts the bracelet that had started a trend for couples on this side of the globe. It is unknown whether he had lost it during a skirmish or willingly stopped wearing his. With Darling's trail of broken hearts, it's safe to assume the worst. The Starlet seems to be continuing activities, as usual. The ice princess, unmoved by a romance put to the grave. On a lighter note, read more about Lockwood & Co.'s achievements on page 7.

—

The gazette went for the jugular with that one. For once, they wrote something that had some truth to it. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Even your newly developed habit of morning walking barely helped your heartbreak. You've never mourned for something that never was, but, damn, did it hurt. You knew you were in too deep when your feet carried you right to 35 Portland Row.

You stared at the agency plaque for an unnecessary amount of time before you folded yourself over and hugged your knees. At the time, George and Lucy would be out running errands before a case and Lockwood would be arranging their bags inside. Perhaps the security of knowing their schedule made you so confident to sit and wallow the death of what could have been.

Yet, you couldn't mourn that in peace. The silence was interrupted by a shutter. You lifted your head and spotted a paparazzo who didn't even try to hide his presence. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and already fading. He had a smile on but it set off alarms in your head. You didn't have to ask. You had a feeling. The gazette was all too good at dampening a sunny day.

You stood up quickly but found yourself backed against the wrought-iron gate.

"The Darling Starlet of London... Quite the title. Never thought I'd get to see you in person." His smile widened. You didn't budge. Even with your fiercest glare, he didn't get the message. He looked down at his camera before his smile fell. "Do you know how upset we were when you started going out with that... that pathetic excuse of a human—"

"He's an agent," you cut off. "and he's the reason degenerates like you get to walk the streets without being ghost-touched at every turn."

"Degenerates?" He laughed, covering his mouth. "Oh, Darling Starlet—" The name you found home in was chemical coming from him. "you should know that we made you. He's lucky the chief likes him enough. You'd be nothing without us."

"Without the gazette?" You scoffed, tempted to roll your eyes at the fool. "You do more harm than good."

"But we make or break a career." His hand came away from his mouth, revealing a smile made of pointed teeth. "and what would happen to your folks if your reputation makes a sharp decline, hm? Your father needing all that medicine, your mother taking care of him... What would happen if our little darling turned out to be a little bitch?"

Your anger was boiling over, but the fear of that possibility had crippled you. Words died in your throat. Your will fizzled to nothing. You felt blood drip into your palm, nails clenched into your flesh.

You were still trying to regain yourself when the cold of the gate was pardoned from your back. A familiar warmth replaced it, an arm coming around your middle and a voice that quelled all your fears sounded in your ears. A rapier crossed the distance, severing the neckstrap around the photographer and sending his camera into the pavement. It's lens shattered and the photographer let out a yell.

"If you ever talk to my girlfriend like that again, a broken camera will be the least of your problems."

"Anthony J. Lockwood," the paparazzo snorted. "Your agency hinges on the exposure you get from us. Don't play hero when you know you're defending a sham."

"I'm defending my girlfriend," Lockwood's grip tightened on your hip, and his rapier shined in the light. Your heart did immeasurable things in lieu of Lockwood's doing. "and if you ever threaten my family like this again, I will come after you. The gazette isn't the only publication in London, and I've built a rapport with enough people in the industry to secure my place. I'm not afraid of you."

"You—"

Lockwood turned you around, covering you from view and urging you toward the door. "Head inside, darling. I'll take care of this."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for resentment or even hate, but found none. His eyes were sunlight through bottles of whiskey. The smile had disarmed you, finally getting through to you.

You took a few hesitant steps before he nodded, assuring you that it was alright. He made sure you were safety inside before he returned his attention to the photographer.

"I do have morals. So, I'll be civil." Lockwood poised his blade. " That said, get off my street before I show you how proficient I am at my job."

—

Some part of you was desperately hoping that things would smooth themselves out after what had transpired. When he offered you his coat before telling you that he'd be walking you home, you knew you were in over your head.

That same night, you flipped the events over in your head. Clenching and unclenching your newly bandaged hand to remind yourself that it was real.

You didn't get much sleep with his voice echoing in your ears and his eyes burned into the back of your eyelids.

—

Your mother must have known something was wrong with you. You mistaked salt for sugar in your morning coffee, you walked into a wall on more than one occasion (a large vase had fallen victim to your daze), and you refused ice cream for the first time in your life.

In the middle of the day, Mama Darling decided that she'd seen enough. She set her knitting things down and urged you to put your book down. You obliged because you couldn't absorb the words anyway.

"My darling girl," your mother started. Her tone is so heartfelt, you felt yourself lax in your seat. A smile came to your face as she caressed your cheek, just as she'd always done. "You've always been such a kind child. So selfless . . . Your only flaw is that you need to know when to let go of your fear and let us handle ourselves, dearest."

You stared at her, lost. She simply smiled, taking your hands in hers. "I know your recent escapades with Anthony were a play, my dear girl." Your spine calcified, heat prickled your eyes. "I always knew. I'm honest when I say he's good for you. He brings out your ugly smile— Don't frown, I mean it in a romantic sense. I know the look of love when I see it, dearest. Don't sacrifice it for pride or fear, my girl. Go get him back."

"Ma," you shuttered, pausing to collect yourself. You were choking on yourself and that wasn't the worst of it. Your vision had blurred from your tears. "you and Pa need me to focus on my career. I have to—"

"No, you don't." She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and swiped her thumb across your cheek. "You'll always be a princess in the eyes of the public, dearest. Any person with two eyes and common sense will see that. You just have to break out of your shell, actually talk to the journalists. Just not the ones from the Daily Gazette—they are something else entirely."

"They are, aren't they?" You manage to laugh through your tears. Only your mother could make you feel these many things at once. She saw right through you. "Right now, Anthony doesn't even want to talk to me. I'm so scared that if I try, he'll tell me everything I don't want to hear. I'm scared he'll see all the nasty things the gazette talked about and hate me for them."

"Darling," your mother said sternly. "we just went over the fact that the gazette is complete and utter bullshit."

You can't help but snort. The rare curse from her had broken through to you. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't be sorry, my dear girl, be brave." She flipped your hand over and drew lines across your palm. She did it three times before you realized what she was doing; she was drawing stars. "Some things are worth conquering fears for."

The Starcrest ferris wheel. Stolen smiles. Dreams of fireworks.

Your mother smiled at the renewed light in your eyes. She didn't question you as you bolted to the exit.

"Home before dinner! You may bring Anthony!" she called just before you smiled and closed the door behind you.

—

"Lucy?"

"No, this is George."

The world must hate you. You couldn't do much about that. You coiled the telephone wire around your finger as you took a deep breath. "This is... darling."

"I don't know anyone with a ridiculous name like that. Sorry."

You bit your cheek, inhaling the urge to sigh. "The prissy actress."

"Oh. You." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "Speak, before I hang up."

"I have a favor to ask of you," you winced, already expecting the worst.

"What's in it for me?"

You took a breath. "What do you want? Biscuits? An allowance? Access to the VIP collection in the library—"

"All of that, and you have yourself a deal."

"Done."

—

"George— You're usually against room invasion," Lockwood quipped, allowing himself to be dragged up the steps. "and Lucy wouldn't be happy about this."

"When I tell her what I bargained, she'll be fine with it."

"Bargained?"

"Not that important right now, Lockwood. Sit. And for all things grotesque, don't move."

George had pushed Lockwood into the mustard seat beside the attic window. The latter was ready to protest, confusion evident.

A resounding pop had interrupted him. The lights in the room shifted. The shadows stretched and receeded. It took a moment for Lockwood to realize that there were fireworks going off outside.

On the third floor, he had a bird's eye view of the shower of sparks in varying shades of blues, reds, and yellows. He was wondering where the firework show had come from, but his questions were put to rest with a singular look onto the street.

Other than the tins of fireworks, he saw you—looking much like a panicked frog while lighting the fireworks. You looked absolutely ridiculous. His perceptions of you had been thrown to the wind, and he couldn't help but smile.

The last firework burst into pink sparks, lighting up his eyes and your silhouette; embedding itself into his memories. When the air had cleared, he cracked the window open.

"What are you doing down there? Have you gone mad?"

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting an answer at him. "Lighting fireworks! You like dem?"

He shook his head, endeared. "How do you even know how to light them?"

"I don't! It was about time I learned!"

"You really are a lunatic..." he chuckled.

You cocked your head. "What did you say?"

"Come in!"

You showed him your thumbs, scuttling to the front door.

Lockwood had never raced down the stairs so quickly before. He apologized quickly to George, who he had almost bumped to ground floor, and Lucy, who had just gotten home with groceries. He raced for the door; hair a mess, breathing short, but smiling widely. He greeted you with the same smile he had on when you first met.

Cute as he was, you couldn't take it anymore. You reached up, fingers brushing his forehead and fixing the strands that had been bothering you for ages.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing you said. You were still heaving from outrunning fireworks but he wasn't in much better shape. "I was scared, and my first instinct was to act like I don't care, but I do. I care so much. About you."

"I got the message," he laughed, looking over your shoulder to the smoke remnants of the showcase.

"No, I'm not done." You took a breath, bracing yourself for it. "I want you to know about me, too. Pa has been sick for a long time. He worked through it so they could afford my commute to and from auditions. The money Ma made was used for medicine or keeping me in school. We struggled for a long time. Some days, I couldn't sleep because I felt so helpless. I wanted to give back to them with every fiber of my being. When I finally could, I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I was willing to do anything to stay where I was—"

"Darling, I get it—"

"—and I lost sight of who I was doing it for. I was so comfortable in allowing anything just to keep a pristine reputation—"

"Darling—"

"—and I hurt you. I never meant to, I'm so sorry. I realize now that I was wrong and I should have been more honest with you because I don't just want to be colleagues anymore—"

"Oh, shut up already."

He bunched your shirt in his fist, pulling you to him with the anticipation born from a thousand dreams. When his lips touched yours, it felt like all of this was worth the wait.

You were sweet and a little smokey, he could have laughed but settled with smiling into the kiss. You stole a breath from him when you nipped at his bottom lip. He could have spent the night like that but the resounding boom from outside made the two of you jump, breaking away from The Best Kiss Ever™ to see the last of the fireworks finish off the moment with golden sparks.

Lockwood couldn't stay upset. After a short laugh, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him right back to you—giving him another kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

—

!! THE COUPLE OF THE CENTRURY, BACK AGAIN !!

Recipients, after a short-lived break, the couple of the century are back—stronger than ever! Various photographs have been taken of them: Dancing in the foyer of the Darling estate, partaking in Mrs. Darling's notorious tea parties, and running away from premiers to steal time for themselves. To see more of them, see page 4!

That was possibly the last good article written about anyone coming from the gazette. Not long after that, they began to be brazen in their attempts to tarnish your reputations. They published photos of the two of you flipping off the photographer, spitting your tongues out at unwanted paparazzi, and spreading the most degrading rumors you had ever heard.

At the same time, the gazette had been losing viewership to London Squire, who was only gaining traction with every article written about the It Couple of Europe. Soon enough, the gazette had lost all credibility; reduced to a mere scandal sheet. It was a breath of fresh air.

The public was enamored by your honest nature and respected the fact that you'd prefer to keep your relationship private. Though, you would be the talk of the town once the Squire got a hold of an exclusive interview.

The topic? Vows, silver rings, and rapiers to cut wedding cake.

DARLING-LOCKWOOD

— It's now official. Our Darling Starlet is off the market after exchanging vows with Lockwood & Co.'s founder and president, Anthony Lockwood. The union took place this weekend in a private ceremony with close family. The couple reveals that the ceremony was grand but they would like nothing more than to keep it to themselves. We are honored that both Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood has given us the opportunity to publish a few pictures taken during their most special day. The writers here at London Squire send all our warmest regards to the newly weds.

The picture wasn't much; Just a scene recreated from the movie that earned you the title of 'Darling'. Even when you shared his name, he persisted in calling you his darling starlet. Though, he takes the utmost pride when he does call you his missus.

NOTE ➺ i don't know if i can get all my 1989 tv songfics done in time but i plan to get them all published before the end of 2023 !

i hope this finds you when you need it. as always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. i love to read feedback so don't hold back!!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[rottenr0ckets]

why do you support will? /genq

There's a lot of proof against Shelby really

When she accused him of locking him in his house was when he didn't have a house

There's pictures of wilbur looking drained and bruised when he was with shelby when he was with her but none of shelby

Shelby has been actively anti-recovery saying people never change and also several ableist statements

Shebly Has supported people telling others to do horrible things

Wilburs 'apology' wasn't an apology or admiring anything. He said he was shocked by it and even stated that he thought the biting was consensual which it seemed it was being that shebly said they had a safe word for it

Right before the allegations came out shebly was being accused of being a p3d0 and also at the same time wilburs new single came out which not only might be about her but there's one song where you can hear a voice that sounds like her screaming insults

Shebly constantly milking the situation, dragging it out and actively trying to deplatform wilbur

She said she said at first she 'didn't want to name names' but made it very bloody obvious it was him

The statement from sheblys cousin (idk if it's confirmed yet) saying they witnessed shebly abusing wilbur

How shebly is throwing under the rug the death of what I think to be 6 kids who've taken their lives due to harassment

Some smaller things that threw me off where her saying "this year has been crazy thank you for 1mil subs" and trying to make money out of her new found fame. Also her seemingly ignoring male abuse victims. How many people who were close to wilbur are still following him and probably know something is up but wilbur usually waits until situations calmed down to talk about it. Sheblys very childish behavior in blocking anyone who objects her and brings up asking for proof. Also her blatant naraccistic behaviors.

Also it was unnecessary for shebly to bring up the ant infected house or messy rooms. Messy rooms are caused by bad mental health and ant infections are common in Europe i myself have one in my house as well.

There's sososos so much I could go on about but that's the main stuff of why I support wilbur. She lacks proof and evidence as for wilbur has stayed quiet but has more proof of his innocence. Thank you for the question^^ anymore and ill be glad to answer as well as try to find source material for it if I can find it again (I probably can it's all over wilbur support groups) I apologize for any bad Grammer or misspellings it's very late for me😭😭😭

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Hi I'm a big fan and I just wanted to let you know I love your yandere headcannons I like the way you write them, I hope you don't mind me requesting for yandere headcannons of koridai, courage and platonic!wind. If you accept I can't wait to see them. (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Y’all Courage and Koridai simps are on crack. I’m here for it tho. Not doing wind in this part as i’m still planning where he’ll be

Yan!Chain headcannons

Tw: Yandarism and it’s accompanies, Courage and Koridai, I traumatised them, oops, child abuse, SH, baby trapping.

Courage

His version of the guide was different- far more than the rest. You were there. He saw your reflections in the mirrors and out of the corners of his eye, he heard whispers of your voice, you were there since as long as he could remember. He used to think you where an imaginary friend, as he didn’t have many actual friends. It made sense. But you never went away. No matter how much medications he took or lashes he’d taken, you were there.

It was when he learned of who he was and what purpose he held that he learned what you were. And it didn’t take him long to start going off the edge.

His very own guide- someone to hold and keep all to himself. Someone no one else could see. Someone no one could steal. Someone that would finally stay.

When he meets with the chain he’s still got that entitlement.

This reflects in his love languages. Physical touch and Quality time, being as close to you as often as possible. You were his reward, his support, his gift to be put through what he was put through. He deserves you.

He’ll hurt himself for your attention. Im talking full out stab wounds if that’s what it takes for you to kiss it better.

Fiercely loyal. Glares down anyone that flirts with him and would even flat out insult them when you were still just a spirit in his minds eye. Now you’re real however? He can and will compare people to you.

Has a hand on you at all times. He doesn’t care if he’s getting glared daggers, he’s throwing his arm around your waist and savouring the way you flush.

On that note, i’m sorry if you’re easily flustered. Like- truly. This man is a f l i r t. He’ll learn what makes you tick and abuse the living hell out of it. Even if it’s whispering the filthiest things into your ear, he’ll do it if it gets you blushing.

He’d kidnap you. 100 %. Married and with a kid by your side so you have to stay and so everyone knows you’re his. A wife on his arm and an heir to his title, even if they needed a little… assistance to realise that’s what they wanted.

Fav nicknames for you: Dear, Babe, Babes, Sugar, Honey, Loves, starlight

Koridai

It took him a while to realise you were his old guide, purely off of the fact he was so deep into believing he hallucinated you.

But prying him off of you when he comes to is what’s more difficult.

Again with physical touch, but he has a sweet spot for words of affirmation and gift giving. (you’re really racking up sugar daddies)

Golden retriever energy to the nines. Waiting at your hand and foot, back and call in case you might need him. You did so much for him, he might as well pay you back. He’ll cater to whatever you want of him. You want him to jump, he’ll ask how high. You want him to smile he’s beaming. You want jewellery, he’ll mine the gems himself. You want him to change his clothing, he’ll let you pick out a whole new wardrobe. You want a husband, he’ll hire the officiant. You want a man dead, all he needs is a name.

Two faced as Sky and Wars. Absolute sweetheart to your face, plays dumb to be unassuming, slips passed the squabbling of the chain and next thing they know he’s gone and you’re in his universe.

Another kidnapper.

Fun???

Either way you’re leaving with him or he’s leaving with you. He’d gotten himself so hurt while you left him unattended for 5 minutes to get water, and you expect him to live without you? After how he was forced to leave you behind? After he dug you a grave?

He can cry on command, and you’re none the wiser. You’d hold him as he sobbed and sniffled as the others watched. You’d defend him and his place, and off of the lies stories he told you, it’s a wonder you saw his emotions at all.

Nicknames: Whatever makes you the most embarrassed or flustered