#im bored and have been picturing it nonstop

[strange-doll-child]

What if I draw my 3 Gracey genderbends as the Heathers, would that be funny?

[comfort-person]

Publicity stunt

This GIF IM SORRY WHAT?!!!! 😩😩😩😩 anyways moving on this story is based on the ‘one bed’ trope. Yes I’m obsessed. I hope you all enjoy!!

Synopsis: you and Harry are forced to be a publicity stunt. He is your boyfriend for one year. A signed contract. But one problem… you hate each other.

Harry styles x fem! Reader

The lights of the paparazzis blinded you and Harry, Harry’s head bowed as his arm was wrapped tightly around you giving the impression of a protective boyfriend protecting his girlfriend his slender fingers wrapped around your hip as you both walked towards the doors of the five star hotel. Fans were screaming, shoving pictures and cd’s towards him attempting to get his attention but all he wanted to do was relax… what a day it had been. He was chewing a piece of gum, curly hair messy but driving the girls and guys wild as usual. His other hand was holding his water bottle, his sunglasses and his car keys… yes he did in fact have pretty big hands.

Once inside of the hotel, away from the eyes of the public you pulled away from Harry not saying anything to him as you walked to your guys’ hotel room. Eventually once at the right room you slid the card in before pulling it out abruptly the green light flickering slightly letting you know it had been unlocked before you pushed the door open, not holding it open for the man as instead it slammed into his arm “thanks.” He spoke sarcastically, you would’ve said something even more sarcastic if it wasn’t for the issue that had now made itself apparent to you… one fucking bed. Great! Just your luck, right? “Are you serious? Harry didn’t you say you got two separate beds?” You asked Harry dropping his stuff onto the desk

“Yes. I did. But clearly they didn’t listen… it isn’t my fault.” He spoke and you glared at him “not your fault? Pfft.” You scoffed, Harry’s cold green eyes boring into you as he stared an annoyed unimpressed look on his face “and earlier you called me childish. Grow the fuck up y/n.” He spat out, your attention now on him, a steamy angry emotion in both of you as you glared into each others eyes “it’s. a. bed. If you’re so unhappy with it sleep on the floor.” He muttered annoyed before sitting down on the bed, the outside world was already dark, and harry was just about ready for bed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and hated the fact that he just didn’t seem to care… he was truly a fucking asshole. Gods could your life get any worse? “People describe you as a gentleman… apparently you’re not. Because if you were you would’ve offered to sleep on the floor… cliche but if you did I might actually like you.” You spoke, yet didn’t even get a response from him. He just ignored you. Blatantly ignoring you. It pissed you off. Yet you watched as he soon grabbed a hold of a pillow neither of you would use before he stuffed a pillow in between the already laid out pillows- the one pillow standing up right creating an invisible equal line down the middle of the bed, “there… better princess.” He spoke sarcastically and you glared at him annoyed “you stick to your side. I stick to mine.” He spoke and you just nodded your head, before hurrying into the bathroom with your pyjamas, Harry getting changed himself before the both of you decided to wind down for the night.

Harry’s back was facing you, your back facing him too, the pillow being a lot of help actually yet you couldn’t get comfortable whatsoever. It was as if something was bugging you… and you forced yourself to believe it was him that was bugging you. But in reality it was this whole entire situation… you liked harry… and hated the fact that you both had to go around hiding these stupid fucking lies. You had been fidgeting nonstop for a good hour and a half, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall blankly… he was really biting his tongue. But that’s when your cold foot touched the back of his leg his body jumping

“Jesus Christ y/n! You’re freezing… stop fidgeting and go to sleep” he spoke, voice laced with tiredness the deepness making his voice crackle slightly. “Okay. ‘m sorry.” You muttered before rolling onto your stomach before attempting to sleep again, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softly, relaxing all until a minute later you were moving again- bed creaking, foot colliding with Harry’s ass “ow!” He rolled onto his back neck craned to look at you “will you stop? You’re certainly doing that on purpose.” He spoke, your brows furrowed in discomfort “I’m sorry… I can’t sleep… can’t get comfortable. I miss my home… my own bed…” you murmured Harry’s eyes opening slightly wider as he listened to you “well… you’ll be able to go home sooner once you fall asleep.” He spoke before attempting to roll back over and sleep only to be grabbed by your gentle hand eyes full of sadness and worry

“Harry…” you whispered “y/n.” He spoke in the same tone “hold me.” Those words practically stumped Harry, as he froze, blinking- utterly baffled. Did he just hear you right. “What?” “Hold me Harry. Please… I- I can’t sleep unless close to someone… or something…” usually you had your back pressed against the wall but there was no wall either of the sides of the bed. All apart from Harry. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling quietly before shaking his head “fine.” He rolled over to face you, you rolling over again so your back was facing him before you backed up into his warm embrace- back pressing against his chest, his arms lightly wrapping around your waist hands closed into fists to make sure to not touch you without you wanting him to, your body soon relaxing as you closed your eyes, Harry relaxing too as slowly but surely the both of you fell into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

Hours passed before eventually it was morning again, 6am to be precise. You would’ve slept in longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s fans were screaming his name… one side yelling ‘Harry’ another yelling ‘styles’ it was continuous. Annoying. Frustrating.

Your eyes fluttered open confused, a soft groan leaving your lips, yet that soon became the least of your worries as you soon realised you were not facing a wall anymore… but rather Harry himself… your chest pressed against his, face inches from his, your eyes widening slightly in shock…. You must’ve really gotten comfortable last night… Jesus. You stared shocked but didn’t attempt to move as you soon instead found yourself admiring him… his lips… his nose…. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks… his hair sprawled out onto the pillow lips slightly pouted, arms still wrapped around you tightly and securely. His defined jawline and cheekbones making your stomach flutter. So much so you carefully reached your arm behind you grabbing your phone as you quickly but efficiently took a picture of him asleep, immediately posting it to Instagram keeping your eyes on him but also your phone to make sure he didn’t see you doing such a… romantic? Thing.

A sudden “you know it’s rude to stare,” making you jump a small lazy smirk on Harry’s lips as he stared at you. You quickly turned your phone off dropping it by your side as you stared at him “sorry..” you smiled softly staring at him the feeling you had towards him was now of fondness rather than resentment. “Want to hear a joke?” He asked softly voice lazy and amused and you hummed watching as he smirked “right… okay.. what do you call a dinosaur who constantly kicks you up the bum?” You shook your head not knowing “a megasoreass…” your lips immediately upturned into a smile as you laughed “that’s so fucking stupid Harry.” You giggled out “okay okay I’ve got one…. What do you call someone who crosses the road to find a chicken?” Harry stared confused “uh I don’t know.” “Harry styles.” You spoke, Harry’s eyes narrowing as he glared at you playfully “well who’s the one who likes chicken here? I only eat fish… soo… I guess it’s really y/n y/l/n hm” he smirked at you your smile remaining yet both your faces began to relax as he began leaning in, you moving closer to him as well before the inevitable happened…

Your lips met with his, the pillow that once kept you both from being close to each other now was a place for both your heads to rest, Harry’s hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheek bone as he kissed you deeply but passionately, eyes fluttered shut, growing more heated, his free hand sliding down your waist and your hands grasping onto his shoulders tightly hands soon curling into his hair, tugging slightly before eventually you were both forced to pull away…. Breathing heavily… looking into each others eyes as Harry stared at you

“Shit…” he murmured

“Shit.” You repeated after him studying his eyes silently… there’s no going back now, right? “Fuck it.” You whispered, lips colliding with his again as you kissed him passionately, the kisses messy and sloppy as his hands travelled down your waist, until eventually you were pulled on-top of him the filthy make out session continuing… and well….

The rest is history.

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

ray's house headcannons

so i've been making nonstop theories about the layout of ray's house/mansion since episode 2 but thought id write them down. (i know that they probably didn't mean for the set to be taken literally but im bored and have time today so im gonna pick its appearances apart) I am taking all of whats presented to us literally because i think it'll be fun!

The Bar Room

i really didnt have a better way of referring to it so Bar Room it is. Now, i am starting with this since it is in the chunk of the house i consider to be "Ray's Rooms" at the time the show takes place (more on that later). This room is really only significant in two scenes:

The first time Sand goes home with Ray

Ray finding his mom's body

We see this room first in ep 2 2/4 when Ray pays Sand to come home with him and be his drinking buddy.

the above angles are important to me for introducing three things: the bar stools, the lamp, and the curtains

now we have this shot and followers who remember this post already know but i believe this is a framed photo of his mom on top of the liquor cabinet.

(side note: Im like 99% sure the print on top of the counter is of the Brooklyn Bridge, in Brooklyn NY so shoutout to Boston)

anyway the next time we see the Bar Room is in part 4/4 of the episode in a flashback.

based on what we see in the flashback i believe this to be the same room since you can see very similar details to what we see in part 2 of the episode. i also think this confirms that the Bar Room is indeed the entrance to Ray's Rooms (which i will scream about later)

The Record Room

next up is the Record Room, which also makes its first appearance in episode 2 and then also plays a significant role in episode 7 2/4

first I'd like to establish that 1. the Bar Room leads directly to the Record Room, but also that passageway leads to Ray's Bedroom.

the Record Room itself is pretty self explainatory, its a room designed to be a place to listen to the record player. as seen in the shelves of records and the wall prints of records.

things i found interesting: there are 3 more doors (one not pictured in the above photos) in this room that lead to unknown places, there seems to be another balcony, and also there truly are a bunch of records.

Ray's Bedroom

It is first seen in episode 3 1/4, again in ep 4 1/4 and 4/4 and then ep 7 2/4

in these photos we see a door on each side of the bed, a balcony on the left side, the same wallpaper that is in the Record Room, a coat rack for his button ups, and then also a few books whose titles i dont know. Also it lowkey looks like Ray is using 3 thick/firm pillows, i love my little prince. I highlighted this in the last photo but it looked a bit like the door to the left of the bed was a bit open, I personally believe these doors to be closets, I think it makes sense and I highly doubt he only owns button downs.

Mew's Mad Dash

I've saved these photos for their own section, but I think this moment is important for two things:

Confirming the layout of Ray's Rooms

Why he is going to different doors

The first shot we get is of a reflection of the lamp that sits in the corner of the Bar Room

pictured above: Mew enters through the Bar Room and into the Record Room

(i told you there were 3 doors) Mew's confusion at the doors leads me to three different theories:

He's never been here before and doesn't know his way around

He's been here before but forgot how to get to Ray's bedroom/ generally just doesn't know where Ray could be

He's been here before but entered through one of the three other doors in the Record Room

Here we see Mew enter a hallway that leads to the bathroom. important things: the door is open (i believe all the doors get closed by the people who work there until they are opened and left that way by Ray), Mew is facing away from the bathroom while looking for Ray, which implies there is something in front of him (i believe this to be the Bedroom), there is a mirror on a surface with a handle- I think this is the bathroom door left open, like the other door mentioned above, which reminds me of the glimpse we see of Ray's mother's body in a room where the doors seem to be open (idk what I mean by this besides just the sight of their bodies being found in the open, especially because of the vulnerable position his mom was in, does something to me, espeically especially because he is in the open but curled in on himself)

The Downstairs

We get limited glimpses of other parts of the house in ep 10

based on that first image and other ones i think that the circular railing we see in ray's ep 2 flashback is either very end of these stairs, or further down a circular hallway that overlooks the downstairs. Alternatively this could be a seperate stair case/area entirely.

i personally dont think this counter we see in the dining area is a kitchen, i think its too small compared to a size i'd expect based on what we see of the rest of the house and i don't really see aplliances. i would however see this as a contender for a second bar- like hear me out the cabinets are displaying fancy plates yes but on the counter itself are decanters and crystal glasses, it also the only time we see Ray outside of Ray's Rooms, and i think its because his Bar Room was recently emptied of its supply so he had to come to the other one. also im kinda obsessed with the massive tv in the dining room like majority of seats are at a bad angle to see it, this is the kind of set up they use in like meeting rooms. also there looks to be another chandelier in the room next to the tv.

The Outside

we really only get two shots of the Outside.

an interesting detail about this balcony is that, if we assume its the one in the Bed Room and not the one in the Record room, then the windows next to it probably belong to the Bar Room, which I assume has windows there unless the curtains were just decoration.

combing through behind the scenes footage confirms that 1. both sides of Ray's Bedroom have a balcony and 2. the Bar Room does lead to the Music Room which has the doors to Ray's Bedroom

Why I've said all this.

My personal headcannons based on these details is that

What we know as Ray's Rooms, orginally were his mom's. I personally cannot see having a big ass mansion and then deciding the perfect place for your kids bedroom is next to the Bar Room, but also, the Bar Room being where his mom dies and also the Record Room containing her personal collection makes me think that this is where she spent her time. I'd even say the Bed Room could have been hers as well.

I think it could be possible that the mystery doors in the Music Room and Bed Room are way's to get from Ray's Rooms from other parts of the house but because of how the Bar Room attaches to the hallway that leads to the main stairs I will assume Ray typically enters through the Bar Room as we saw him do with Sand in episode 2 and as Mew did in episode 4.

based on my above point I AM ALMOST CERTAIN THAT EVERYTIME RAY COMES HOME AND GOES TO HIS ROOM TO GET CHANGED OR GO TO BED HIS HAS TO PASS THE SPOT WHERE HE FOUND HIS MOTHERS BODY.

as I said earlier I think its likely the mystery doors in the Bed Room are closets, and I'd say something similar for the Record Room. In terms of the Bed Room I think one door leads to a big closet and the other leads to a room with a vanity/ place to get ready type thing. In the Record Room however, based on the only times i've been in big houses have been famous big houses turned into museums, one of those doors might be one used by the staff to get around the house (i think it would be fun for there to be secret hallways please let me have this). It could also be interesting if one led to another room that we haven't seen. What that room would be, I don't know I don't live in a mansion

actually what if there is a game room and you can get to from the Record Room but whose main entrance is somewhere else

Also, I said i think these used to be Ray's mom's rooms and i stand by that- I think she wanted a place to retreat to seperate from the other people in the house that it doesn't seem she chose to make a family with, I also think Ray takes over the rooms after she dies- not immidiately but maybe a few years after

I think Ray and his mom both leave all doors open and all lights on, in an attempt to make the house seem lived in and inviting- but the staff who work there are instructed to close everything up as they clean (i don't really know how cleaning staff in a place this big work tho tbh)

i think there is a seperate kitchen where they have they're own chef, i do not think Ray has cooked anything in his life ever

i think when Ray was born they lived in the house that becomes the hostel and when he's a young child they move into this house

i think Ray subconsiously took over the part of the house that is a living reminder of his mothers ghost as a form of self punishment and i think it is a necessary step in his healing to move out of those rooms but i think it takes him a while to get there

yeah thats all i have as of now, just wanted put down my thoughts

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Publicity stunt

This GIF IM SORRY WHAT?!!!! 😩😩😩😩 anyways moving on this story is based on the ‘one bed’ trope. Yes I’m obsessed. I hope you all enjoy!!

Synopsis: you and Harry are forced to be a publicity stunt. He is your boyfriend for one year. A signed contract. But one problem… you hate each other.

Harry styles x fem! reader

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

The lights of the paparazzis blinded you and Harry, Harry’s head bowed as his arm was wrapped tightly around you giving the impression of a protective boyfriend protecting his girlfriend his slender fingers wrapped around your hip as you both walked towards the doors of the five star hotel. Fans were screaming, shoving pictures and cd’s towards him attempting to get his attention but all he wanted to do was relax… what a day it had been. He was chewing a piece of gum, curly hair messy but driving the girls and guys wild as usual. His other hand was holding his water bottle, his sunglasses and his car keys… yes he did in fact have pretty big hands.

Once inside of the hotel, away from the eyes of the public you pulled away from Harry not saying anything to him as you walked to your guys’ hotel room. Eventually once at the right room you slid the card in before pulling it out abruptly the green light flickering slightly letting you know it had been unlocked before you pushed the door open, not holding it open for the man as instead it slammed into his arm “thanks.” He spoke sarcastically, you would’ve said something even more sarcastic if it wasn’t for the issue that had now made itself apparent to you… one fucking bed. Great! Just your luck, right? “Are you serious? Harry didn’t you say you got two separate beds?” You asked Harry dropping his stuff onto the desk

“Yes. I did. But clearly they didn’t listen… it isn’t my fault.” He spoke and you glared at him “not your fault? Pfft.” You scoffed, Harry’s cold green eyes boring into you as he stared an annoyed unimpressed look on his face “and earlier you called me childish. Grow the fuck up y/n.” He spat out, your attention now on him, a steamy angry emotion in both of you as you glared into each others eyes “it’s. a. bed. If you’re so unhappy with it sleep on the floor.” He muttered annoyed before sitting down on the bed, the outside world was already dark, and harry was just about ready for bed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and hated the fact that he just didn’t seem to care… he was truly a fucking asshole. Gods could your life get any worse? “People describe you as a gentleman… apparently you’re not. Because if you were you would’ve offered to sleep on the floor… cliche but if you did I might actually like you.” You spoke, yet didn’t even get a response from him. He just ignored you. Blatantly ignoring you. It pissed you off. Yet you watched as he soon grabbed a hold of a pillow neither of you would use before he stuffed a pillow in between the already laid out pillows- the one pillow standing up right creating an invisible equal line down the middle of the bed, “there… better princess.” He spoke sarcastically and you glared at him annoyed “you stick to your side. I stick to mine.” He spoke and you just nodded your head, before hurrying into the bathroom with your pyjamas, Harry getting changed himself before the both of you decided to wind down for the night.

Harry’s back was facing you, your back facing him too, the pillow being a lot of help actually yet you couldn’t get comfortable whatsoever. It was as if something was bugging you… and you forced yourself to believe it was him that was bugging you. But in reality it was this whole entire situation… you liked harry… and hated the fact that you both had to go around hiding these stupid fucking lies. You had been fidgeting nonstop for a good hour and a half, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall blankly… he was really biting his tongue. But that’s when your cold foot touched the back of his leg his body jumping

“Jesus Christ y/n! You’re freezing… stop fidgeting and go to sleep” he spoke, voice laced with tiredness the deepness making his voice crackle slightly. “Okay. ‘m sorry.” You muttered before rolling onto your stomach before attempting to sleep again, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softly, relaxing all until a minute later you were moving again- bed creaking, foot colliding with Harry’s ass “ow!” He rolled onto his back neck craned to look at you “will you stop? You’re certainly doing that on purpose.” He spoke, your brows furrowed in discomfort “I’m sorry… I can’t sleep… can’t get comfortable. I miss my home… my own bed…” you murmured Harry’s eyes opening slightly wider as he listened to you “well… you’ll be able to go home sooner once you fall asleep.” He spoke before attempting to roll back over and sleep only to be grabbed by your gentle hand eyes full of sadness and worry

“Harry…” you whispered “y/n.” He spoke in the same tone “hold me.” Those words practically stumped Harry, as he froze, blinking- utterly baffled. Did he just hear you right. “What?” “Hold me Harry. Please… I- I can’t sleep unless close to someone… or something…” usually you had your back pressed against the wall but there was no wall either of the sides of the bed. All apart from Harry. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling quietly before shaking his head “fine.” He rolled over to face you, you rolling over again so your back was facing him before you backed up into his warm embrace- back pressing against his chest, his arms lightly wrapping around your waist hands closed into fists to make sure to not touch you without you wanting him to, your body soon relaxing as you closed your eyes, Harry relaxing too as slowly but surely the both of you fell into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

Hours passed before eventually it was morning again, 6am to be precise. You would’ve slept in longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s fans were screaming his name… one side yelling ‘Harry’ another yelling ‘styles’ it was continuous. Annoying. Frustrating.

Your eyes fluttered open confused, a soft groan leaving your lips, yet that soon became the least of your worries as you soon realised you were not facing a wall anymore… but rather Harry himself… your chest pressed against his, face inches from his, your eyes widening slightly in shock…. You must’ve really gotten comfortable last night… Jesus. You stared shocked but didn’t attempt to move as you soon instead found yourself admiring him… his lips… his nose…. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks… his hair sprawled out onto the pillow lips slightly pouted, arms still wrapped around you tightly and securely. His defined jawline and cheekbones making your stomach flutter. So much so you carefully reached your arm behind you grabbing your phone as you quickly but efficiently took a picture of him asleep, immediately posting it to Instagram keeping your eyes on him but also your phone to make sure he didn’t see you doing such a… romantic? Thing.

A sudden “you know it’s rude to stare,” making you jump a small lazy smirk on Harry’s lips as he stared at you. You quickly turned your phone off dropping it by your side as you stared at him “sorry..” you smiled softly staring at him the feeling you had towards him was now of fondness rather than resentment. “Want to hear a joke?” He asked softly voice lazy and amused and you hummed watching as he smirked “right… okay.. what do you call a dinosaur who constantly kicks you up the bum?” You shook your head not knowing “a megasoreass…” your lips immediately upturned into a smile as you laughed “that’s so fucking stupid Harry.” You giggled out “okay okay I’ve got one…. What do you call someone who crosses the road to find a chicken?” Harry stared confused “uh I don’t know.” “Harry styles.” You spoke, Harry’s eyes narrowing as he glared at you playfully “well who’s the one who likes chicken here? I only eat fish… soo… I guess it’s really y/n y/l/n hm” he smirked at you your smile remaining yet both your faces began to relax as he began leaning in, you moving closer to him as well before the inevitable happened…

Your lips met with his, the pillow that once kept you both from being close to each other now was a place for both your heads to rest, Harry’s hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheek bone as he kissed you deeply but passionately, eyes fluttered shut, growing more heated, his free hand sliding down your waist and your hands grasping onto his shoulders tightly hands soon curling into his hair, tugging slightly before eventually you were both forced to pull away…. Breathing heavily… looking into each others eyes as Harry stared at you

“Shit.” He murmured

“Shit.” You repeated after him studying his eyes silently… there’s no going back now, right? “Fuck it.” You whispered, lips colliding with his again as you kissed him passionately, the kisses messy and sloppy as his hands travelled down your waist, until eventually you were pulled on-top of him the filthy make out session continuing… and well….

The rest is history.

[yaraaflor]

how i think a dickroy wedding would go:

for a long time after they settle down together they’re not married. roy doesnt believe in the institution of marriage and refuses to participate. dick is secretly disappointed but he would never want to push roy into something roy doesnt want, and he knows they dont need a piece of paper to prove their commitment to one another. 

but fast forward a couple years, one of their kids, lian or mar’i (probably lian bc she spent most of her life wanting her daddy to find a life partner and be happy) is like “so when are you gonna get married? i wanna be a flower girl!!” (even though lian’s been a flower girl in like, 4 weddings already). and roy is like shit. should we get married? and dick cant hide his pure joy at being asked that question and roy is like double shit. have you been wanting to get married this whole time and im holding you back from your dreams?? alright guess were getting married!

at first they agree that its gonna be a small wedding, just family and close friends, no fuss. but their families are huge. and then they sit down to start writing the guest list and its like wait we cant leave so-and-so out and dont forget about so-and-so until the list is like three hundred people and theyre like. shit. were both too popular for our own good so we have to invite the entire superhero community.

huge wedding means mucho cash so bruce swoops in and is like we can host the wedding at the manor?? i can hire planners etc? and dick is like. fine with it bc he knows its bruces way of showing he loves them and that he accepts roy is part of the family now. but bruce is definitely gonna be a mother-of-the-bride-zilla lmao. originally roy wanted nothing to do with wedding planning except for picking the cake, but when he finds out that bruce wayne, control freak extraordinaire, is taking over the plans hes like oh HELL no. and promptly enlists dinah and ollie to also help plan the wedding. 90% of the wedding “planning” turns into roy and bruce arguing about every minute detail while the poor wedding planner tries to play referee and dick is off with lian like “lets go pick out your dress sweetie!” while also solving cases and generally burning the stick at both ends up until 2 days before the wedding.

they try to have separate “bachelor” parties on the same night and roy goes to a strip club but hes actually bored by it and the separate parties all end up together at donna and kory’s apartment at the end of the night and dick gets too drunk so he and roy sleep on their couch, piled on top of each other. they consider a honeymoon but roy doesnt want to leave the kids that long and theyre playing with fate anyway by hope an alien invasion doesnt happen on the day of the wedding, so they figure the honeymoon can come a few years from now.

the day of the wedding arrives and roy is surprisingly chilled out, just like oh, well, guess whatever happens will happen! we planned as best we could! while dick, predictably, has a panic attack about whether hes trapping roy and ruining his life and blah blah blah. eventually he calms down and the actual ceremony goes pretty well. connor is roy’s best man and donna is dick’s. lian (and maybe mar’i) is INDEED the flower girl and she enjoys it immensely. cerdian is the ring bearer. they have a justice of the peace preside so its actually super quick. ollie cries. clark cries. half of the room is crying actually. bruce doesnt cry but jason swears he saw a tear or two in his eye.

the reception is the best part. diana brings themysciran wine so most of the metas can actually get drunk. people give speeches and there is more crying, even during damian’s. donna is taking pictures nonstop despite the fact that bruce hired a photographer (hers are better anyway). they party from the afternoon into late in the night bc everyone is having such a good time. clark leaves to save a sinking boat at one point but no ones upset. bruce sneaks out to patrol gotham for an hour and everyones upset. alfred yells at him. the titans coordinate a group sort of performance telling the story of dick and roy’s love. its mostly wally speeding back and forth pretending to be them having a conversation about how much they love each other. as everyone gets progressively drunker, they start telling more stories that they shouldnt be bc roy and dick invited their like 2 non-super friends too lmao. 

it starts raining at like midnight so everyone leaves (its a miracle the rain waited so long bc its gotham). dick and roy say their goodbyes and head off to their hotel suite in the city (roy refused to spend one more minute near bruce). as soon as they get there they collapse from exhaustion and spend most of the next day nursing hangovers. then they end up patrolling that night bc dick is obsessive and roy loves him despite that lmao. its a wonderful time and roy never once regrets giving in to the institution of marriage.

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Star Wars 101 (Ch. 2) Episode IV - A New Hope

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Wow, I didn't realize how much I'd written until I hit the tumblr limit. Hope you like it! Comment your thoughts!

Chapter Summary: Steve just wants to do his job, the avengers are the best wingmen, Scott doesn't like porn, and [y/n] thinks all nerds are freaky

~~~

sci-fi boi: okay which cartoon rivalry was better?? Popeye the sailor man and Bluto or Tom and Jerry?

crackhead [y/n]: dude.

crackhead [y/n]: how is that even a question??? Obviously Tom and Jerry lol

sci-fi boi: explanation pls

crackhead [y/n]: popeye and bluto were always fighting over that girl olive and some other stupid crap but with my two furry buddies it was no talk pete no discussions just murder attempts ON SIGHT. Tell me they don't go harder than any other rivalry

sci-fi boi: haha truuuu

~~~

"Are we boring you, Queens?"

Peter's head snapped up quickly, discreetly turning his phone off underneath the meeting table. "Um-huh? No no no, Mr. Rogers I'm listening. Sorry."

Steve shook his head and continued to speak as he pointed to the pictures on the screen at the end of the room. All of the Avengers of Earth were there, some half asleep, while the others either joked or listened intently.

In two short days, they were going to be taking back powerful tech that Martin Li(aka: Mr. Negative)'s "demons" had stolen from Stark Industries. A simple "get in and get out".

They'd known this plan for some days now, yet Steve insisted on calling meetings to go over it again and again.

Feeling a quick vibration go off in his hand, Peter instinctively looked back down at his phone to see a snapchat text notification from you.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible🐝...

~~~

Peter shook his head slightly as he chuckled, a smile shamelessly creeping onto his face.

~~~

sci-fi boi: did you really just quote the bee movie at me???😂😂

~~~

"Hey spidey-boy, would you mind sharing to the class what's so hilarious?" Rhodey's voice rang out loud and clear from across the table.

Quick as lightning, Peter turned his phone off and buried it in between his thighs, realizing that he hadn't been as quiet as he'd thought. To his luck, everyone’s eyes were trained on him now.

“It's n-nothing!” Peter squeaked, his voice breaking embarassingly. He shoved his phone into his pocket in fear of someone snatching it from him.

Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked. "So what're you looking at down there?"

"I-i, uh, I was just um, w-watching a funny- very funny video actually-"

"C'mon guys!," Sam laughed, clapping his hands together. "Don't tease the kid. We all know what he was smiling at down there!"

At that, Peter practically choked. "WHAT?!"

Tony snickered. "Personally, I don't think two inches is something to be proud of, but alright."

Peter's eyes widen, nearly falling out of his skull by the looks of it. "I-it's not two inches a-and I wasn't looking at-!"

"Jesus christ, guys..." Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He was obviously just doing something on his phone. Leave the poor guy alone."

Peter coughed as he saw Steve glare at him with that infamous 'Im Captain America and Im judging you' glare. Phones weren't allowed in the meeting room. Well, they weren't supposed to be. No one ever really followed that rule except Peter. But he'd already been so deep in his conversation with you that he just couldn't put his phone down. "No no, um, I wasn't.. I was just zoning out, y'know, and I just happened to be looking-"

"-at your phone?," Steve cut in to ask.

"-at your dick," Rhodey stated at the same time.

"-at porn," Tony said with an all-knowing smile, causing everyone at the table to turn towards either him or Peter, whose face was beet red with embarrassment.

"Peter please tell us you weren't watching porn," Scott begged, his jaw completely dropped. "I mean, no judgment but-"

"Full judgement, actually," Clint corrected, an extremely disturbed look on his face. "Seriously, what were you doing, kid? You gotta tell us now with all these assumptions being thrown around."

"Curious," Thor stated, leaning back in his chair. "What is porn?"

"Something that I definitely WAS NOT watching!," Peter responded as he practically slammed his face into the table and slapped his hands over his eyes. "Does it even matter what I was doing anyway?," he mumbled into the table.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, blowing the smoke off of her coffee. "People usually aren't this defensive when they're telling the truth, Peter."

Peter shrunk into his seat with a loud groan. Can I die. Can I please just die. Like why am I seriously even alive right now??? Some bad guy please just burst through the door and maim me please.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up Parker's phone," Tony commanded once the commotion in the room died down.

Peter quickly lifted his head. "Wait, what?!"

"Accessing Peter Parker's mobile device, sir," F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. "Would you like for me to transfer the screen to the meeting board?"

Tony looked back with a laugh to see a frozen, slack-jawed Peter. He turned back around. "Yeah sure, F.R.I.D.A.Y., what the heck let's have fun."

"No wait- are you seriously hacking into my phone right now?!"

"Well why're you so tense, Parker?," Sam asked teasingly. "Thought you had nothing to hide?"

"I-i don't!," he stammered. "I-it's just..." he trailed off, looking for the right words to say. "..that's my private property," he said lamely while staring at the wall.

Tony stared back at him. "Well that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard." He pointed towards the board. "Alright it's coming up."

Scott closed his eyes. "Oh God, please don't be porn.."

Peter rolled his eyes. Everyone else looked to the large board, fully expecting to see either porn or just some stupid game the boy had been playing.

But none of them expected him to be texting a girl.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: hey u still there?

~~~

"Who's crackhead [Y/N]?," Natasha asked.

Scott turned to Rhodes who was sitting on the side of him. "Is that some trashy porn star?," he whispered.

"Why're you asking me like I know?"

"It's this girl from school.." Peter answered, blushing profusely.

"And you like her," Natasha noted, watching his body language intently.

The boy's eyes widened. "N-no I don't!"

"Why crackhead though?," Rhodey asked, crinkling his nose.

Peter shrugged. "That's what she wanted her name to be," here responded. "Thought it was funny."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Just like you thought 'sci-fi boi' was funny?" Shaking his head, he changed focused. "Guys, are we gonna get back to work or not?"

"Not," Tony answered as he scrolled up all the way to the beginning of the messages from early that morning. "So, you've been texting this girl today off and on since..." He checked the time. "Five in the morning?"

Clint chuckled. "Oh yeah, huge crush."

“No!” Peter protested, his voice an octave too high. Realizing that it isn’t working, he decided to try a different technique. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound and act as nonchalant as possible. “She’s just a friend from school.”

"She's first on your best friends list, even over that computer kid you practically live with. And you and her practically snap each other nonstop."

Peter scratched his nose. "W-well that's only cuz Ned doesn't like to text much."

Bruce took his glasses off and sighed, realizing there was no way this meeting was getting back on topic. "Look Pete," he said. "Friends don't do that. I've seen it all before. If you and this girl are talking on a daily basis all throughout the day starting at five in the morning?" He titled his head in a suggestive way, though Peter stared back at him blankly.

"What?," Peter asked.

"Oh my God, kid," Bruce sighed.

Tony held his head back and laughed. "It means either she likes you and your just too dense, you like her but won't admit it and she's just concerningly nice, or you both like each other and just won't make your moves!"

Sam, who hadn't lifted his eyes from the board the entire time, spoke up. "And judging by these texts, you already got her, it's just not official yet."

Tony kept scrolling. "You two went to winter formal together?"

"Yeah... but as friends," Peter said with a shrug.

Steve cleared his throat loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room at once. He looked at Peter who was doing everything here could not to look him in the eye. "Look, as much as I would love to talk about Peter's sad love life, we have a mission-"

"-that will still be there tomorrow, Cap," Bucky finished for him. "C'mon we've been going over this stuff for hours. Let us have this distraction."

Everyone looked to him, Tony feigning a puppy dog expression. Crossing his arms, he left the room. "Fine, but when someone gets hurt because they didn't know where they were supposed to go, don't blame me."

"...literally no one's ever blaming you, man," Sam said.

Suddenly, the screen lit up and F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke. "Sir, Peter Parker has a new message."

Everyone looked to the board. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Scroll down, Mr. Stark. Scroll down!," Peter yelled frantically. "What's she saying?"

Natasha smirked. "And you're sure you don't like her, Peter?"

His face flushed. "Okay fine...I might have a tiny crush-"

"I'm sorry I can't hear you," Tony cut in. "Can you say that agai-"

"-I SAID YEAH I REALLY LIKE THIS GIRL!," Peter finally yelled with his eyes squeezed shut. He kept them closed for about twenty seconds afterwards, afraid of the judging faces he would see if he opened them.

He carefully opened his eyes to see all of the avengers (minus Cap) staring back at him with stupid smiles and smirks on their faces.

"Well, that's all I needed to hear," Tony said. He clapped his hands together. "Okay everybody, first order of business, checking the text. Sam, you're our reader."

"Got it."

"What?," Peter yelled, reaching for his phone. Tony dodged him and gave it to Sam. "Mr. Stark, I can text a girl on my own. I don't need help."

"Nat, you're our timer. Make sure none of the responses take longer than a minute. We don't want the girl to get bored and go on to something else."

"Check."

"Mr. Stark, c'mon-"

"Sam, you explain stuff to lightning head over here if he doesn't understand it. This could be learning moment for ole Shakespeare. Thor, you listen to Sam."

"Right."

"On it."

"Everyone else, you're with me. We gotta find the perfect thing to say to this girl. I've got a feeling this is probably the only chance he's gonna have to get a girl in a long time."

Rhodes, Scott, Clint, Bruce, and Wanda looked to each other and nodded.

"And Pete?"

Peter raised his head. "Yes sir?"

"You know this girl more than anybody here does, so you tell us if what we say is appropriate for her or not."

Peter rolled his eyes and nodded. After all, what's the worst that can happen?

Tony pointed to Sam. "Okay, read it."

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: u going to flash's party on saturday??

~~~

"She wants to know if the kid's going to some party Saturday."

Tony turned to the boy. "You're going," her demanded.

Flash was the most popular douchebag in school. Totally rich and totally rude and totally determined to use his every breath to spite Peter. "I wasn't even invited," Peter mumbled, shooting a glare towards Sam when he heard him laughing.

"Well get invited," Tony ordered. "A party is the perfect place to make a move. Send yes."

~~~

sci-fi boi: yes

~~~

"Mr. Stark, how am I supposed to get into this party? Flash hates me! And if I crash it and Flash sees me, he's gonna make sure everyone thinks I'm a loser!"

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Peter we're trying to help you here. Figure that part out on your own."

Peter sighed, leaning forward in his chair. The last thing he wanted was another assignment, even if it wasn't actually an assignment. On the plus side, he'd get to see you, and maybe have some fun if he actually tried to enjoy himself.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: cool so i guess ill go too

~~~

Rhodey chuckled while shaking his head. "Kid, if you don't ask this chick out the second you see her again, I'm gonna bodyslam you."

Peter frowned. "What do you mean?"

Bruce smiled. "Whether or not she went to the party was depending on if you were going," he pointed out.

"This girl used to be like that with me back in college," Scott said with a shrug. "Thought she liked me. Turned out she just had social anxiety..."

"Yeah you're really not helping this, bugman," Tony said.

"Wait, you guys think [Y/N] actually likes me back?," Peter asked, getting groans and laughs in return.

"Where have you been the last few minutes?," Natasha said.

"We've literally been saying that this entire time," Sam deadpanned.

Peter stared at his feet below the table. If the team was right, and you did actually like him back, then the movie marathon he was planning was the perfect excuse to hang out with you. "I-i think I might have a plan!," he rushed out, his head flying up. He pointed to Sam. "Ask her if she's free tonight!"

"Yes!," Thor yelled, his fists pumped into the air. "The spider child has grown his man balls!"

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Sam nodded approvingly as he texted.

~~~

sci-fi: r u free tonight??😉

~~~

"Wait hold on," Peter said, suddenly rushing towards the phone in a frantic manner. "Why is there a winking emoji?! I didn't say anything about a winking emoji!"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were flirti-"

Peter groaned. "Delete it, man. Delete it before her bitmoji pops up!"

"Okay okay, dang kid," Sam chuckled, quickly deleting the text and replacing it with one without a winking emoji. "There. And ya girl didn't even see it."

"Hey guys," Scott said. "I know we're all freaking out and stuff. But honestly, I'm just glad he wasn't watching porn." He shrugged. "So no matter what happens with this girl, today's still an absolute win."

It went on like this for a solid thirty minutes.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: yeah wassup

sci-fi boi: wanna come over and watch movies?

crackhead [y/n]: sure what're we watching

sci-fi boi: we can decide that when u get here. how about 4??

crackhead [y/n]: alright sure

~~~

"Okay, last thing," Tony said. "We need a sly compliment. Something not that special about her, but enough to show her that you're tuned in. Gets them every time, trust me."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Wow, lady-killer."

Tony pointed towards her and shrugged. "She said it, not me."

Thor looked to Peter. "So, young spider. What have you observed about your darling love?"

Peter blushed, almost wanting to comment on the Thor's word choice but ultimately deciding not to. "Well, um, her eyes light up a lot when she gets excited and it's really dorky in a cute kind of way I guess," he mumbled, scratching his head.

"Alright I got it," Sam said, typing the words in. He lifted his shoulders into a shrug. "Who knows, kid? There be some hope for you."

~~~

sci-fi boi: btw how do you get ur eyes to sparkle so bright when u get happy about stuff? Just thinking about it lol its cute

~~~

-

Peter blew out a shaky breath as he looked back over the set-up he'd made in the living room.

He'd cleared out space to build a super huge homemade blanket fort and inside it at the end was his tv. Towards the middle were all of pillows he could find inside the house and at the other end were snacks. All around the inside were fairy lights because he knew you liked them, though personally he found them cliche.

He spent about an hour on the whole set and an additional thirty minutes stressing over and making sure everything was safe (with all three fairy lights and tv cords). The last thing he needed was for the both of you to catch on fire while watching the movie.

The two of you were going to be watching Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope (or as normal 'not-nerds' like to call it, "the first one"). Of course, he hadn't told the team that. If they'd known what movie he'd planned on showing her, high chances are they wouldn't have even let him out of Avengers tower. But if Peter was gonna be forced to hang out with someone (not that he was really complaining), he would at least pick the film.

Finally checking all the boxes in his head for the night, Peter went to go check the DVD before he heard your knock at the door.

"Coming!," he yelled, quickly chucking the disc into the DVD player. He ran to the door and opened it with an awkward smile. "Uh, hey [Y/N]."

"Hey," you said back, already sort of blushing. "How's it going?"

Peter stared. Are your eyebrows done or are they just naturally that nice? He found his voice after abruptly noticing that he was staring. "Uh-well. It's been going great! How's it going for y-you also as well?" He frowned. "I-i mean, what's been going on with your life lately? No, that's dumb. I meant-"

"Peter, Peter! Calm down, dude," you giggled. "I've been fine."

"Oh," he chuckled. "That's good... d-do you wanna come in?"

"Question. What're we watching, Peter?," you asked, a smile playing on your face. Considering what you remembered from the last time you were at his house, and the fort you could get a peek of from the doorframe, you figured it was special for the nerdy boy. Plus his shirt had Yoda on it.

Freakin' Star Wars.

Immediately, a wide grin spread across his face. "Remember what you promised me we'd watch?"

You rolled your eyes, stepping past him into his living room. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Time to get nerdy I guess."

"Come on, you'll love it,"Peter said, quickly closing the door behind them and then briskly running towards the fort to hold up the side blankets for you. "So, snacks and drinks are beside us. We'll chill on these blankets here. And...um, yeah. That's about it." After stepping outside for a bit to go turn off the lights(for the full "movie theater" experience), Peter laid down on his belly, reaching for the DVD player to press play.

You watched as he fumbled with the wires, making sure the DVD player was plugged in before turning it on. Has your jawline always been that sharp?

You couldn't quite place it, but his texts from before seemed.. weird. But not a bad weird at all. A good, intriguing weird.

And that compliment was pretty nice, but odd for Peter. Sure, he complimented you often, but it just felt different this time. Usually it'd be something like, "new dress?" or "nice shoes". But never "you're eyes sparkle when you get excited." Heck, you didn't even know that about you. Was he paying attention? Did that mean he-

You remember how he acted about Liz Allen and Michelle Jones. Always staring. Never able to even say a full sentence in front of them without stuttering up a storm.

But he was so comfortable about you for the most part. You were just a friend.

"Okay got it," Peter said, laughing excitedly as the screen in front of him lit up. He scooted back to where you were sat. "Prepare to have your mind blown."

The Fort quickly became dark as the Lucasfilm logo shined on the screen.

"I seriously dou-"

"Shhh!," he cut you off. "Wait for it..."

You gave him a look but joined him in his silence to see what he was waiting for.

BUMMMMM buh buh bummmm

Practically jumping on top of him, you flinched at the loud and sudden music. "Crap dude! Turn it down!"

Peter shook his head, reaching for a soda. "You have to get the full effect, [Y/N]!," he laughed. "Just embrace it." He began to sing with the music and mime crazy gestures as if he were directing an orchestra.

Duh duh duh DUH DUHHHHHHHH

Halfway through he stopped and recited the opening crawl, his eyes glued to the screen with a sort of focus that made you sure that not only was this not foreign to him, he probably did this every other week.

"It is a period of civil war," he mumbled, throwing some popcorn into his mouth. "Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic- [Y/N] you have to watch the words, I swear it'll make the whole experience better." It went on for a little while longer until he paused the movie and looked over at you, cowering a bit. "D-do I have something on my face?"

"Huh? Nah you're good," you said, realizing he'd noticed you staring. "It's just-" you remembered his text from earlier. "-you got really excited... It-um..it was cute."

Because of the darkness(the only lighting being from the tv), you couldn't see if Peter blushed or not, but you could clearly see the stupid grin plastered on his face that he was trying to hide from you with his hand. Repeatedly licking his lips as a desperate attempt to stop smiling as he pressed play on the remote control. "A-ah, um, thanks [Y/N]."

The opening crawl was over and soon the movie actually began, showing a huge spaceship.

"That's the imperial star destroyer," Peter whispered, never taking his eyes off the screen. "They belong to the empire." He saw your blank expression, wide eyes as he realized that meant nothing to you. "Uh, the bad guys."

You squinted your eyes at the screen, silently judging the graphics of the energy blasts- space bullets?- or whatever they were supposed to be. "Pete, when was this movie made?"

"1977."

"Oh okay," you said, deciding to give it some leeway for the trash designs.

You scooted a little closer to your friend, figuring you'd get a little bit more comfortable.

Oh how he wished you hadn't done that.

Nothing like actual, physical contact with a girl that you like and you think she might like you back to actually manage to distract you from one of your favorite movies ever.

He froze, not wanting to pull away and offend you, but definitely not wanting to stay because just being this close to you was making his mind run wild.

Does she actually like me back? What if Mr. Stark and the team only said that to get me to make a fool of myself? She's too comfortable with me. She just sees me as a friend. Or maybe she likes me and she's just really chill about it? Ooh my gosh and she's leaning on me right now. What am I 'sposed to do?? I don't know I don't know I don't know!!!!!!!!!

Deciding for a quick compromise, he got up completely to reach for another soda, though his sprite was still half finished. When he sat back down, he wasn't as close. Hopefully, you'd just see it as natural human behaviour and not him wanting to be away from you.

Course you would see it that way, wouldn't you?

"Oh my gosh I recognize someone! That's R2D2, right?!" You pointed wildly, glad to not be completely clueless for once with this nerd crap.

"Yeah that's R2," Peter responded, letting out a secret sigh of relief, thankful for the distraction.

"A-and that's that gold dude!"

"Yeah, C-3PO."

"And oh crap that's Princess Leia!," you shouted. "Fucking feminist icon!"

Peter tilted his head. "Wait, how would you know that if you've never watched this?"

You laughed. "I still have access to the internet, doofus! Scroll down the nerdy feminist side of tumblr and Leia is literally everywhere."

Peter chuckled as he finally finished his sprite. "Okay. Valid."

Since that, you stopped talking for a bit. Part of you actually did figure that since you're here, you might as well actually try to enjoy the movie and maybe find out what the fans actually see in it that makes them like it so much. The other part just really didn't want to annoy Peter while he was watching his favorite movie series.

But sometimes you just have to say something.

"Hold up, wait. Isn't that his sister? Oh my God, Pete I swear somebody told me before that Leia was Luke's twin!"

Peter shrugged while nodding. "Well, that's a bit of a spoiler, but yeah. What about it?"

"Oh my gosh, Pete- what about it?! Dude, he's literally making 'fuck me' eyes at his own sister! He's all like, 'ooh you're so sexy I'm gonna bone you all over the galaxy'. That's freaky!"

You grabbed the remote and began to rewind it.

"C'mon now [Y/N]," he explained. "He didn't call her sexy. He said she was beautiful. Sexy is wayyy different from beautiful. You can think your family members are beautiful can't you?"

You paused it once you got to where you wanted.

"Okay Parker, look at that. Look at that and tell me Lukes's not totally undressing her with his eyes!" You pointed at Peter's face with a goofy smile on yours. "Oh wow, I've finally figured you people out now."

Peter's head cocked to the side. "Figured out what?"

"Star Wars nerds are a bunch of horny kids that like that step-sibling porn stuff but can't watch that in front of their parents so they have to use an alternative!"

Peter fell on his back with laughter, practically rolling around like a pig. "[Y/N], what?!"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Who else likes to see two siblings bang each other, Peter?!"

At that he pointed back at you while picking up his other soda. "To be fair, they never do that with each other. They only kiss, like twice and that's it. And one of them is only to make Han Solo mad."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about the Han Solo guy. Where is he anyway?"

Peter smiled. "Well, we're only twenty mintues in. He'll come soon."

To tell the truth, Peter really didn't even know what part you were at. His eyes were watching the screen but nothing was being comprehended. The only thing he could manage to think about was all the tiny things that were going on over on your side of the fort. Did you notice him staring? Was Tony right and you were just concerningly nice?

"I love how everybody at this bar is so chill south everything that's happening. It's like oh wow this guy just shot this green dude at table 8 and nope we totally don't care," you joked, pulling Peter out of his trance. He reminded himself that he should probably try to pay more attention. He didn't want to ruin the movie for you in case you had any questions.

But eventually, like all things do, the movie came to an end.

"So, how'd you like it?," Peter said while neither one of you made a move to leave the dark fort. You were laid out in practically a starfish-type position while he was sitting Indian-style.

You smirked. "I'll admit, it was pretty nice for a movie made in 1977. Still a bit lame though," you teased, pinching your fingers together with a giggle. Suddenly, you gasped. "Ooh, Vader was pretty lit though! Just straight force-choking people who disagree with you is such a power move."

Peter rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly. "Typical..."

"Excuse me?"

He bit back a quick smile. "Look, I'm not saying that Darth Vader isn't awesome. Because he is! Totally and completely but [Y/N], you do realize that in literally every movie we watch you like the villains?," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Because the villains are awesome!," you defended.

"Just saying. I'm sensing a bit of a pattern...," he teased.

You scoffed. "This coming from the guy who actually feels bad about some the people crashing into things when we're watching Ridiculousness," you said, reminding in how Peter was forever the relentless sap. "Well, while you're so busy judging me, whose your favorite character?"

At that, he gave a small sincere smile. "Ben. He's really cool."

"Ben Kenobi? The old guy that literally let himself die? But why?"

He shrugged, the small grin still present on his face. "Eh, sentimental reasons..."

He watched you return his sweet smile and it was then and there when Peter really felt content with the night. Though, you hadn't even known the weight his words carried, he did. Ned was the only other person who knew about it. But Peter knew right then and there that if you had asked, he'd tell you. And he knew you'd understand. Maybe you were just nice. Or maybe you did like him back. But in that moment, Peter didn't care. He just wanted to be here with you. Lost in the warm smell of popcorn and your vanilla perfume, watching a Star Wars movie with Uncle Ben surely smiling down from Heaven. And it gave Peter hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a step in the right direction.

2 hours (and five minutes) down. 22 hours (and forty seven mintues) to go...

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

Taglist: @underoosjae @spn-assemble-seven @of-your-eyes-begonia-skies @parkerpeter24 , @audreylovespidey706

[selfcareparker]

(lovely anon) ok so this may sound so dramatic but; let me paint you a picture: i’m responding to your latest message, sitting on the edge of the sofa. i type in “lovely anon” into the search and see this longgg post come up and i’m like uhhh... i scroll down and see the people you tagged and literally. when i saw @ lovely anon. i . cried . like full on tears. my brother goes “what are you doing” “she tagged meeeee” and he continued what he was doing and didn’t care LMAOO but i was so emotional? i love and appreciate you too and aAH IM CRYING!! you’re just really sweet and i didn’t expect it at all and it was really lovely to be a part of something :’)

the kermit pic sent meee but yes yes yes!! when you start uni let me know, lol i’m so excited for you!! let me know how it goes cuz i’m literally hype hahah & yes we will be in our sad corners of the world, missing england but you’re right it’ll be sooooo worth it in the end!!! and oH i’m glad you talk to them lol i truly thought you like haven’t seen them/haven’t spoken to them this whole time😭 that would’ve been awful!

also i totallyyy get what your saying about the english speaking thing. and idk why you’re insecure (well i *knowww* bc it’s not your first language and you’re studying it in college so yuh) but your english is great :)))

lol yeah that makes sense.. my mom took french in college and she remembers NOTHING HDJSHSJ (the fact that you wanna learn MORE languages i- ahh i so admire you.. you literally know so many languages🥺) yea i mean you know a bunch of languages bc you know the base of words lol, but i wonder if because you know latin it’ll be easier for you to learn french? oh- oh wait you said it’ll be easier HAHHAHA

THERES SO MUCH EXCITING STUFF TO TALK ABOUT HDGSJSJSL it’s so wild to me that you can’t watch chaos walking :( i’m a professional hacker tho so i’ll try and find a way for you LMAO (by professional hacker i mean i literally have gotten multiple free trials and i’m pretty sure the hulu police are after me bUT ITS THEIR FAULT BC WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE???) i mean the movie was good? and cute? and funny? but yea don’t think it’s gonna be the most fantastic thing haha AND THE DOGGO AWWW (i saw it again today- or my today lol, saturday, aND THESE OLD PEOPLE CAME AND SAT IN FRONT OF ME AND MY FRIEND LIKE ITS A LONG STORY LMK IF YOU WANNA HEAR IT)

SHARK FILMS?!?!! PLEASE READING THIS I HAD NO IDEA YOU WOULD LIKE SHARK MOVIES TOO FHSKSHSHDJDJGAJAYSJS ok so i haven’t seen any of the classics (i’m working on it) but i would probably watch jaws to laugh at it? not like that lmao but like comparing it. OKAY BUT HONESTLY I BARELY KNOW ANYONE WHO LIKES SHARK FILMS AHHH OKAY im adding “the shallows” to my watchlist bc it sounds super good AND SAME AHSJD ANY BODY OF WATER IN A MOVIE I JUST KNOW ITS COMING LMAO watch me not go in the water anymore after seeing that picture HHDJSJ

WHEN I READ THIS I JUST GOT DONE TALKING TO MY MOM ABOUT THE MEG AND THAT SCENE WHERE THE SHARKKK JUMPEDDDD AND ATE THE OTHER ONEEEE AND THEN JONAS HAD TO DO- bro i cannot (i think that one is my favorite because i love me a bit of romance and the subtle romance hAD ME) 47 meters down PHEW could you imagine?? i try not to think too hard about it i’m like “don’t be dumb catherine, don’t put yourself in a dumb situation” (not autocorrect having “dumb bitch” ready i am not lying) and i literally understand... there is no other way to explain 47 meters down

i CANNOT watch horror movies, can’t can’t can’t, i literally hate them i cannot do it!!! the thrill is tempting and it’s cool in the moment but i cant lmao. i don’t have nightmares about scary things (for the majority of the time) but going to sleep i’m like oooohhhhhh shit 🥲 literally what you explained

music !!!! music !!!! music !!!! (u ever write a word and now it looks weird lmao) MY BROTHER DOESNT LIKE MUSIC AND ITS SHIT IM LIKE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU- anyway, my music taste is all over the place i mean......... it’s crazy. earlier today i was listening to meghan trainor’s album “title” oUT OF NOWHERE, but just a few minutes ago i was listening to fall in love with me by earth wind and fire soooo lol .. megan is *chefs kiss*, i’m not familiar with stormzy🙈, harry styles.... IM SORRY IM THAT PERSON but i don’t listen to his solo music EEK i only listen to adore you... and not that frequently... the music video freaked me out... i like niall’s solo music a lot more, which i listen to a lot more. now. one direction. favorite. please & thank you. i have a playlist called “boy bands” and it consists of one direction and the vamps (obsessed with cherry blossom btw) but as you can see my taste is all over the place!! fr fr if i sent you what apple music has as my “favorites” it went from ariana grande to carrie underwood to glee (OBSESSED DONT LET ME TALK ABOUT IT) i mean please if you let me i will nonstop (hamilton HDJSH) talk about music all day😩 & NOOO UR MUSIC IS GREAT HAHSK IM NOT A BIG RAP PERSON BUT DOJA CAT IS MY FAVORITE!!

okay good, i’m glad :) i was just nervous that you did feel that way <3 and GOT IT HAHAJ healthy pressure is always good :’) my friend got me these pens cuz i love stationary and school supplies lol and was like “now you have to write something” soooo yea i feel that! and i saw you posted the ficcccccc literally so proud of you 🥺🥺 i’m trying to decide if i read it tomorrow or tonight..... sleep or a literal beautiful creation made by the sweetest person and is v v nice smut and college!peter and 4.7k...... sleep aint really calling no more.

GIRL ALL OF MY SENTENCES ARE TOO LONG HAHAHAH IN FACT THIS IS TOO LONG SOOO (also why am i 3 days late..😑) anywho it’s 1 in the morning so <33 lovely anon

🥰

oh my god the fact that you cried nearly made me cry too😭😭🥺🥺 (also, your brother LMAO), i wasn‘t even sure if you‘d see it but i immediately thought of you so of COURSE i included you <333

the hulu police lsjsjaiaik, girl i was ready to get a hulu membership when i wanted to watch big time adolescence and i couldn‘t find it anywhereee, and when i got to the payment it said i need a bank account that‘s based in the US or whatever. like bro i was about to pay you!! but i was forced to find it somewhere (and i did, on levidia,— not that i‘ve ever used it because it‘s illegal 😤 i would never!!! i‘d rather support billion dollar companies and spend my money on watching films that i can find for free 🥰🥰🥰 not

i‘ve found chaos walking online so i‘ll watch it som time this week!! also YES TELL ME THE STORY

okay so idk if you watched/are planning on watching falcon and winter soldier but i watched the first episode the other day and they were speaking french (just a few seconds) and I UNDERSTOOD SOME WORDS DLDJDJ and i was so proud of myself. i‘ve only ever learned french with duolingo lol (i only do like 5 mins a day and that‘s why i was so surprised that i understood some of it!!). and yeah apart from latin i feel like italian, german, french and english are all similar in a sense.. i mean obviously they‘re completely different languages but for example there are some grammatical constructions in french that i think i wouldn‘t understand if i only spoke english? so when i translate those things into english you can‘t directly translate them bc you say things differently, but when i translate them into german then it makes more sense to me. idk that‘s something i noticed so i feel like if you already know multiple languages it‘s easier to learn another language compared to if you only know one language and are trying to learn a second one. even if the languages aren‘t similar then i think you get the hang of it easier.

ikd slsjsjs also i don‘t want you to think that i‘m a linguistic genius or anything lmfao, like i‘m only fluent in english and german and i‘m just a wannabe (ew that word) polyglot sksj (yes i had to google polyglot— i do think learning ancient greek would be super cool tho? like imagine studying latin AND ancient greek, whew). and honestly i don‘t think i‘ll ever be fluent in another language bc i don‘t plan on living anywhere other than germany or possibly england and i‘m not dedicated enough to properly learn any other languages esp if i don‘t have anyone to speak the language with. but i still try my best and i just love language/languages as a whole so yeah i‘m happy & just learning as much as i can dkdjh🥰

(I guess language/linguistics are/is my passion (which sounds sooo lame lmaoooo) and the word passion comes from the latin word pati (i think💀) which means to suffer, and in german passion is called Leidenschaft which basically means suffering too, idk why i‘m telling you this maybe you know it already. but ok dumb fun fact, in german you can make compound words with as many words as you like, and the longest official german word is Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz which is a law for the monitoring of labels on beef... this is such a dumb fact but i think about that word like once a day idk why dodjsjsj so... 👁👄👁)

but i‘ll stop boring you with my linguistics talk because truly i don‘t know much about languages but i am interested omg i‘m gonna shut up now.

now water + sharks. (so in non-covid times i always go to croatia with my dad during the summer, and even before ever watching a shark film i was always kind of scared in water.. but after watching so many shark films wldjdj HELP Like you know when you go deeper into the ocean and you can‘t see or feel the ground/floor? anymore.. then i just start imagining sharks. like i can‘t help it i just imagine a shark sneaking up on me or feeling something graze my foot ABD I JUST START FREAKING OUT SSKJSHSJ. idk. anyway kdkdh i do love the ocean/swimming though but the older i get the more i realise how fucking scary the ocean is ( even if we’re gonna disregard sharks)

your brother... what‘s wrong with him? HOw CAN YOU NOT LIKE MUSIC LIKE WHAT THE FAWK

OKAY BUT SAME ABOUT THE ADORE YOU MUSIC VIDEO DLDKDJSJSKSLSLKSKSJSHSH and yeah i have to say harry’s style (styles lol) as a solo artist isn‘t reaaally my cup of tea, and i only like the popular songs from his second album and the first album is only good when i‘m in the right mood (haven‘t actually listened to it in a while though, but kiwi is one of my all time favourites along with only angel but i hate the start, like it takes 40 seconds to actually begin properly). i like mgk and because of him i watched the dirt which is a film about motley crue, and now one of my favourite songs ever is same ol situation and i‘m into rock now lol. +++ justin bieber. I had a justin bieber cardboard cutout thingy😭 i was the biggest Belieber on earth when i was 13-16, but i didn‘t like his last album and tbh he‘s become a bit weird lately, BUT OH MY GOD. i Listened to his new album yesterday and i‘m in LOVE with the song hold on

i really like niall‘s music toooo!!!! And doja cat 😌😌😌😌 And THE VAMPS OG MY GOD. i got to see them live bc they were the opening/support act for little mix and ajdsjskslslsjsjsj. (Also i love concerts, some of the best memories of my life are concerts, i‘ve seen nicki minaj live 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and justin twice and my heart fills every time i think about how excited i was, it was my first concert ever (16th of September 2016 😌) and i was the happiest person alive seeing justin drew fucking bieber (even if i‘m not tooo sure about justin nowadays)

i have a confession? Idk what hamilton is. I mean I‘ve heard about it and i keep googling it but i‘ve never watched it (is it even a film???? or like a proper musical? also pls tell me you grew up with high school musical. i have a few friends who didn‘t and it makes me so sad 😭😭😭 hsm is the best thing to happen to my childhood , the sooooongs— i still listen to some of them every week or month lool they make me so happy)

(Okay wait i was about to recommend some stormzy songs but you said you‘re not that into rap so i won‘t dksksjl)

What you said about my fic AHSLSLSJB (i wasn‘t sure if you sent an ask about it earlier? idk that might have been someone else, so if it was (and you‘ve read it already) i hope you liked it sksjsj i was...... unsure about it. and i have this reeaaallly long peter fic that i started writing in december and that‘s the only peter thing i currently want to write but also i can‘t because idk how to continue kddjj.) but I’m definitely getting back into writing i have a few blurbs that i want to write so 🥰🥰🥰

Oh and pls as soon as you read this let me know: violet or yellow? (it‘s just a tiny thing for my new theme slsksj)

[basketballandtextbooks]

how does fandom ruin tweek????

eh, my wording may have been a bit strong

I don’t mean to say that fandom has destroyed him. There are... remnants of his actual personality that appear in popular fanon and frankly, even if someone rewrites his personality entirely, that doesn’t ‘destroy’ his character. It’s just someone enjoying themselves.

What I meant is that the popular fanon depiction of Tweek nearly destroyed his character for me. Upon watching the show, I loved Tweek and he became one of my favorite side characters. I enjoyed his disinterest in getting into a death match for the boys entertainment, his annoyance at making a million fucking hats, his frustration over no one believing him about the goddamn underpants gnomes, his ability to point a fucking grenade launcher at someone who took his friends (and cartman) hostage.

He’s honestly a great character and he’s always been hugely likeable.

But when I went to the fandom and looked up Tweek... I was so disappointed with what I found. I tried to enjoy the overly feminine troped Tweek, I really did. I tried to find his hairclips cute (despite the fact that most boys would use hair gel to get their hair out of their face and bad hair gel use honestly EXPLAINS Tweek’s super saiyan hair). I really tried to enjoy pictures that made him tiny and weak and cutely hiding behind Craig. Shaking in fear because the world is so scary and he’s so anxious.

I tried. And I think trying is why it nearly ruined him for me.

Because the more I tried to enjoy that character, the more I found him boring. Stupid. Vapid. Idiotic. Tropey. Cliche. I began to associate the fanon version of Tweek with the canon version of Tweek and it made me actually roll my eyes when he’d appear in episodes. “here’s the little bitch baby again, gonna cry and hide? ugh...”

To be fair, I have liked and enjoyed cowardly and/or anxious characters before and since (like Courage the cowardly dog lol), but the way all of his traits had been simplified into just being... so 2-dimensional and worthless. It really made him annoying to me. Like Courage at least saves the day despite being scared, the fanon Tweek I’d become familiar with just shakes and screams and stutters until his Big Strong Boyfriend saves the day.

Stealing Tweek’s personality, justifying dressing him like a girl because he’s SO CUTE (after all, he dressed like a girl in the metrosexual ep... you know... like every other character in sp... and yet.... we don’t see craig in a skirt that often...), and turning him into a stereotypical trope of a damsel in distress.

It was insulting. It was insulting to myself as a person who suffers from an anxiety disorder. That the entire fandom had equated anxiety to ‘weakness’ and ‘cowardice’ despite the fact that Tweek had never been weak or cowardly, only freaked out. It was insulting that parts of his personality that I really loved had to be ignored and changed to make room for noncanon character traits that only served to make him a ‘cute little twink for Craig’.

I constantly reference his connection to Craig as well because Tweek also didn’t seem to exist outside of Creek. He was THERE to be Craig’s cute bottom. No personality. No ideology. He ONLY existed to be the object of Craig’s affections. Or to be head over heels in love with Craig. His entire personality was being scared and in love with Craig. Even when people would ship him with other characters, it was normally an extension to Creek (oh, craig used to have a crush on thomas... what if tweek and thomas get together! oh wow, crenny is really popular, lets make twenny instead!). And even moreso, this hyper feminized ooc cowardly little bitch version of a character I love would go on to be that same bitch in every ship connected to Creek.

AND THE MOST FRUSTRATING PART of his character being boiled down to ‘weak’, ‘fem’, and ‘in love with Craig’ is that Craig has only RECENTLY become a huge part of his life. Yes, he was an on-again off-again member of CATG but so was Jimmy and Jason, yet neither of them are defined solely by their connection to Craig. He had multiple episodes focusing on him, only ONE of them that even related to Craig (which was against his will) and yet he was defined entirely by his connection to a character he’s hardly had interactions with. Yes, NOW Creek are hardly ever seen apart in canon. But Tweek x Craig happened in like season 18 or someshit. There were SEVENTEEN SEASONS of Craig and Tweek NOT interacting much AT ALL. And yet, even prior to the Creek episode, Tweek was defined ENTIRELY by his love to Craig.

I love a good crack ship, for example I’ve recently gotten into clymien, but I wouldn’t define Damien or Clyde’s ENTIRE personality by their feelings for one another. That’s just... ick. I like them together BECAUSE I think their personalities would clash in interesting ways. Creek was an interesting crackship that became canon but god has the fandom for it always been so freaking ooc that its actually painful.

I also bring up Creek bc im ngl, the fandom has practically ruined that ship for me. I’ve been able to regain my love of Tweek but my love of Creek has become... shaky. The constant nonstop seme/uke trope dynamics super-imposed onto what would otherwise be extremely interesting characters within an adorable ship has just poisoned the well for me. I’m still working on regaining my love for Creek, but it’s been very slow.

It’s not fair to say the fandom ruined Tweek. They didn’t. Plenty of people love him, enjoy him, and there’s plenty of fandom that doesn’t completely bastardize his personality... but for me? Every time I see a remnant of that strange fanon Tweek that I’ve grown to hate, I just cringe.

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- Part 7 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

hello!!! so i have been trying so hard these past few weeks trying to get this final part of iiw right. i am insanely nervous to put this out there, because i don’t wanna disappoint any of the amazing people who followed this series from the beginning. i wanna thank all the thirsty hoes who have supported this fic and given me feedback, because y’all are the reason i had the motivation to finish the series. this is the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything, ever. i can’t believe this series is finally coming to an end 🤧BUTTTTT don’t forget that there will be an additional, shorter epilogue chapter! so stay tuned for that ;) I LOVE Y’ALL!!!! 

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, teen angst, like seriously A FUCK TON OF TEEN ANGST, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, sexual intercourse, (semi?) public sex, dirty talk

word count: 12.8k (IM SORRY LMFAOOO) 

tags: @alicecooper19 @ritualmichael @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @michaelsapostle @trelaney @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @cocosfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @prophesieddarling @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @lvngdvns @hisgirlwonder @telexnesis @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @anacerta @nuke-em-from-orbit @thingsthatoncemeantnothing @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @imjustasadhoe @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @littlehouseofleaves @elvahavax @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @alternativepetewentz @maytheforcebewithqueen

(sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but isn’t in my tag list!! tumblr won’t let me tag certain blogs for some reason!!)

i.

“Goddamn it, how hard is it for you to follow simple GPS directions?” Miriam’s voice was pitched in annoyance as she scolded your father, whose knuckles were near white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

“You know what? Why don’t I just pull over, and you drive instead?” your father snapped. You and Michael exchanged a glance in the back seat for what seemed like the thousandth time since you’d all loaded into the car several hours before.

In celebration of summer vacation, and you and Michael’s recent graduation from high school, your father and Miriam had decided to arrange something of an impromptu vacation. Your father was far too cheap to travel anywhere of any significant distance, so he’d decided that the next best option was to take a road trip down to Myrtle Beach, Florida.

“Oh my god, yes,” Michael had said to you after your parents had broken the news to you both. “Do you know how many half-naked sluts we’re gonna see there? Myrtle Beach is like, white trash central.”

That comment had been the fuel for one of the many arguments you and Michael had engaged in following graduation; there was tension in the air, hanging thick and heavy over your heads as the days crept along, and the mindless bickering between you and Michael was at an all time high.

Not that it stopped either of you from having sex. Quite the contrary, in fact— you and Michael had been having so much sex that it was maybe even getting a little ridiculous.

“Seriously, Michael?” you’d said after his crude comment, your tone far whinier than originally intended. “Go fuck one of those half-naked white trash sluts instead of me, then.”

It’d taken him several minutes to convince you that he’d been joking (even though you were still fairly certain that he’d been dead serious) followed by some admittedly top-quality make up sex, which proved to be enough to convince you to move on.

Maybe something was in the water, you thought. Even Miriam and your father had seemed to be fighting constantly as of late, and the stressful atmosphere of the household made you feel constantly on edge; it almost felt like there was an impending disaster coming, one that was impossible to prevent. You only hoped that whatever disaster might be on its way would avoid you and Michael.

Right now, Michael was leaning with his forehead resting against the window, a bored look on his face as he skipped through the music playing on his phone. He only had one earbud in, the other draped over his shoulder (presumably so he could eavesdrop on your parents’ ridiculous arguments), dressed casually in light gray sweatpants and a faded Jimi Hendrix shirt.

Fuck, he looked good. He was jostled slightly with each slight motion of the car as it moved forward, the muscles in his arms subtly flexing as he reached up to run his fingers through his soft, tousled blond hair. For a second, your mind was clouded with images of a beach-bound Michael, his tanned, water-speckled torso lean but still toned, swimming trunks clinging to the lowest point of his narrow hips and leaving almost nothing up to the imagination. Your mouth watered.

“You know, if I’d driven, we would’ve actually arrived at the hotel by the time the GPS said,” Miriam said.

“So why didn’t you!?” your father exclaimed.

You locked eyes with Michael yet again, whose pale eyes glimmered with slight amusement at the nonstop back-and-forth between your parents.

“Because you insisted on driving.”

“Insisted? All I did was offer to drive out of the kindness of my— oh fuck, I think we just passed the hotel.”

“We did,” offered Michael flatly from the backseat, the soft glow of the neon hotel sign reflecting in his pupils as he craned his neck to follow the building.

“Goddamn it,” your father muttered, scanning the road for somewhere to make a U-turn.

“Nice going,” Miriam muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

You were jerked forward as your father abruptly turned the car around in an act that you were ninety-nine percent sure was illegal; in a matter of seconds, the car was parked in the hotel parking lot, officially marking the end of the several-hour-long trek. Everyone seemed to let out a unanimous sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally,” said Michael, opening the door and swinging his legs outside so his ratty Converse sneakers made contact with the asphalt. You followed suit, making your way around to the trunk, which you popped open to retrieve your colorful travel bag.

The sound of crickets chirping through the mild Florida night was soothing despite its incessantness, and you found yourself smiling idly, a warm breeze gently caressing your face. So maybe you weren’t in the goddamn Dominican Republic, but you were still prepared to enjoy your time here.

Once everyone had taken their respective belongings from the trunk, your father led the way to the front entrance of the hotel.

The hotel lobby was nice, but certainly nothing special; it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the sole reason your father had chosen this place above all others was because it was the cheapest. Your father, weighed down with his overstuffed black bag, trudged over to the front desk with a pained look on his face.

“Imagine this place is infested with roaches,” said Michael lowly, flashing you a shit-eating grin when your face paled at this terrifying prospect.

“Shut up. My dad isn’t that much of a cheapskate.”

“Or what if it’s haunted?” he said, furrowing his brows to mimic a deadly serious expression.

“It’ll be haunted by your ghost in about five seconds if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“I saw this thing online about a girl who went missing, and then they found her in the water tower of the hotel,” he continued, and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t at all surprising that he was trying to scare you. “And like, all the people staying there were showering and stuff, but little did they know they were washing themselves in dead body water.”

“Can you shut up, please?”

His plump lips contorted into a devious smile. ��What, am I scaring you?”

“No, you’re just being really fucking annoying.”

“Aww, don’t worry, (y/n). I’ll protect you from any ghosts or cockroaches that might be here.” He pulled you into a side hug, squeezing you against him with an iron grip as he nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. You pulled away, exerting minimal strength but still managing to evade his grasp.

“Are you going to be this obnoxious the entire trip?” you said, watching as your father appeared to be looking for something in his pockets. After patting himself down for several seconds, he said something to the man behind the front desk; whatever it was that he’d said resulted in Miriam’s face contorting into a look that could easily kill anyone three times over.

“Here we go,” Michael whispered, mouth twitching at the corners as he averted his attention away from you and onto your parents instead.

“You’re an idiot,” Miriam was saying, practically seething as she spoke. “A goddamn idiot. How the hell did you manage to forget the credit card?!”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed as he attempted to come up with a response good enough to satiate his fuming wife, but of course there was none.

“How did he forget the credit card?” Michael said.

You shrugged.

Miriam huffed loudly as she began to dig through her purse, shooting your father a contemptuous glare when her hand emerged, leather wallet in tow. You watched as she pulled out her credit card, handing it over the front desk to the visibly uncomfortable man standing there.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the muscles in your arms starting to burn from the weight of your travel bag.

Michael, having apparently lost interest in your parents’ altercation, suddenly turned back to face you. “You think I’ll be able to pass for over 21 at the hotel bar?”

Before you could respond, your father was making his way over to you, brandishing two key cards in either hand. “We decided it’d be best for all of us if you and Michael had your own room. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

He handed you a card, and as you looked it over, you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to Michael.

It was truly astounding how clueless everyone seemed to be in regards to your relationship (if you could call it that) with your stepbrother, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Just the thought of having a room all to yourselves was enough to make your heart race.

“Of course we don’t mind,” you said with a smile.

“Just— y’know. Miriam and I have some things we need to work out, and, well, I don’t want you guys swept up in any of the drama,” said your father.

“Totally understandable, dad,” said Michael, beaming as he snaked his free arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be able to manage. What do you think, (y/n)?”

Michael widened his eyes at you, the contorted features of his porcelain face dripping with faux-innocence.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, tone cheerful and sweet.

In unison, you and Michael looked away from one another and back to your father. His eyes were shadowed with deep rings, and he looked more like he was about to head off to a 9-to-5 shift at a dead-end job rather than a vacation with his family. “You kids be good, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, ripples of electricity making their way up your spine as Michael lightly stroked your shoulder with his calloused fingertips. “We will.”

ii.

“Room number 69, huh?” Michael said with a quirk of his eyebrow, licking his lips as he plucked the key card from your hand and slid it into its designated slot by the door. “It’s like they knew we were gonna be staying here.”

“You are eighteen years old,” you said in a monotone, though secretly Michael’s immature sense of humor and silliness were qualities that never failed in making your heart swell.

There was a subtle beep as the light next to the slot flickered green, and Michael pushed open the door with one shoulder, the other occupied with his bag. “How fucking awesome is this?”

You followed him into the modestly-sized room, discarding your bag at the end of one of the two pristinely made beds. Michael did the same, and without even giving you time to settle into your new surroundings, he pushed you firmly up against the nearest empty wall.

Even despite the fact that he’d been sitting in a hot car for several hours (unsurprisingly, your father was very stingy with the air conditioning), Michael still managed to smell good; the intoxicating mixture of his shampoo, paired alongside his boyish deodorant and woodsy cologne, was dizzying from such a close proximity.

“You didn’t waste any time,” you chuckled, cheeks flushing as he began to pepper kisses along your neck and behind your ear, lifting one hand to brush your hair over your shoulder.

“Why would I?” he said, his voice low and seductive. He took a moment to playfully nip at your earlobe, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him so you could pull his firm torso closer to yours. “What else are you supposed to do when you’re left all alone with such a pretty girl?”

As much as you weren’t willing to admit it, your heart soared at this validation- Michael thought you were a pretty girl. Those words, coming from that perfect mouth, made you feel a childish sense of giddiness, gave you butterflies in the pit of your stomach like an innocent playground crush.

Michael wandered one hand up over the curve of your hip and onto your waist, lips still moving open-mouthed against your jugular and around to the front of your throat. Reaching up to the back of Michael’s head, you took a fistful of butterscotch-colored hair at the root, using it to guide him back towards your face. Then you kissed him, hard and passionate, your fingers threading easily through his waves as his tongue slipped past yours and into your mouth.

Ding!

You assumed Michael’s phone had just gone off, but neither of you paid it any mind, your breath hitching as Michael slid one veined hand up under your tank top to grope your left breast.

Ding!

“My pretty baby sis,” Michael breathed, swollen mouth slick with saliva. Panting softly, he continued to ignore his phone, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it behind him haphazardly.

With his upper body exposed to you now, you took the opportunity to trace your fingers down the length of his subtly defined abs, stopping just beneath his navel. Just below that, after the cute trail of fuzzy blond hair that paved the way to his v-line, was the low-hanging waistband of his gray sweatpants; you hooked your fingers there, just barely pulling the fabric down as you eyed the mouthwatering bulge prominent in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t help yourself- biting your lower lip, you brought your hand between Michael’s legs and grasped his semi-erect length through the soft material of his pants.

Ding! Ding!

Michael hissed, but he seemed to be somewhat distracted now; you knit your eyebrows as he twisted around to face the source of the interruption- his phone, which he’d left on one of the beds.

Ding!

“What is that?” you asked, frowning. It wasn’t often that Michael tolerated anything getting in the way of his hookups, so you found it mildly concerning when he broke away from you entirely to go and grab his phone.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his lips as he looked at his screen, and you could tell that he was stifling a smirk. “Oh. Uh, it’s nothing.”

You moved from your place against the wall, approaching Michael with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Sure, maybe it was none of your business, seeing that you weren’t Michael’s girlfriend or anything, but he’d piqued your curiosity.

Ding! Ding! Michael fumbled with the phone for a second before turning it on silent.

You cocked your head to one side. “No really, what is that?”

Michael had hidden his phone behind his back now, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

Okay, now you had to know.

“C’mon, lemme see,” you said, trying your hardest not to sound upset. Why were you upset, anyway? You reached around Michael to take his phone from his hand, which, surprisingly, he allowed you to do without much protest.

You looked down at his phone, jaw dropping as you began reading over the several notifications stretching down the length of his screen.

NEW MATCH! With Sofi

NEW MATCH! With Katherine

NEW MATCH! With Kristen

NEW MATCH! With Mallory

NEW MATCH! With Caitlin

NEW MATCH! With Anna

Your eyes flickered up to Michael’s face, down to the phone screen, and then back again, unsure of how exactly you were supposed to react to such a discovery. Michael just offered you a sheepish shrug, somehow only pissing you off further, and angrily you shoved his phone back into his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding? We’ve been here for less than an hour and you’re already trying to find hoes on Tinder?”

“Well, I mean, that’s one way to put it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see what kind of girls live around here, I swear. I wasn’t actually gonna-“

“-Whatever,” you mumbled, bending over to unzip your travel bag. It wasn’t like you had any sort of right to be pissed- Michael could do what he wanted, and if what he wanted was to hook up with random Tinder girls, then so be it. Still, though, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You rifled around in your bag until you came upon the neat ziploc bag full of travel-sized shower essentials, which you tucked under your arm. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I feel gross.”

“Wait, (y/n). Are you mad at me?” You weren’t sure if he actually cared about hurting your feelings, or if he was worried that you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore; either way, you didn’t think right now was the best of times to be honest about your feelings.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, and you knew it (and so did Michael, most likely).

“Well… I dunno. You seemed pretty pissed just now.”

“No, no. Do whatever you want. Fuck as many Tinder girls as your heart desires. It’s not like we’re exclusive.” You continued to search through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and hair towel and tucking them alongside your shower supplies.

“Someone sounds bitter,” Michael mused, causing you to narrow your eyes at him in a focused, pointed glare.

“I thought it was sort of established already that this-“ he motioned at himself, and then to you- “isn’t gonna go anywhere. So I don’t really see the harm in looking around.”

Instantly, you felt a lump form in the back of your throat.

He was right. You’d even said it yourself, that nothing good would ever become of this thing you had with Michael; as much as you wanted it to, it was impossible. So why did it hurt so bad to hear it coming from him?

“Which is why I’m not mad,” you said, swallowing thickly. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

But, like the cliché you were, you did care. Thinking of Michael with anyone else made you feel sick to your stomach. But what were you supposed to do about it? You were his stepsister.

God, if only things had been different. If only the universe hadn’t brought you together in the most inconvenient and unconventional of ways.

You turned on your heels, leaving Michael behind as you made your way to the bathroom without another word.

Once you’d started the shower and adjusted the temperature, you stripped down, catching a glimpse in the mirror of the many marks adorning your body that Michael had left behind at some point or another- hickeys (some bright lilac and navy blue, while others were fading shades of yellow and pink, all speckled down your chest and over your breasts), fingerprint-shaped bruises, shallow scratches.

And those were just the physical ways that Michael had marked you; you were sure that if you turned yourself inside out, there would be thousands more markings to be found.  

You thought maybe this was exactly what you needed right now: a long, hot shower to clear your head. Maybe, if the mood struck, you’d even cry a little bit, just to get your emotions in order.

You stepped into the shower, flinching at the intensity of the stream as it cascaded relentlessly over your body. Shutting your eyes, you ran your palms over your face, skin prickling at the pleasant warmth of the water. After you’d allowed your hair to get sufficiently soaked, you reached for your travel-sized bottle of shampoo, squirting some of the coconut-scented gel into your hand and working up a lather.

You were halfway through your usual hair-washing routine when you heard the bathroom door open; you opened one eye, hardly wider than a squint, to see a tall, blond-haired figure through the steamy glass shower door entering the bathroom. Though the thick layer of steam on the door heavily obscured the intruder, you were still able to see that whoever had entered was butt fucking naked.

Fucking Michael.

There was a metallic squeak as the shower door slid open, revealing an image to you that must’ve been hand-delivered by an angel. There, in all his naked glory, stood Michael, one hand positioned by his side and the other gripping his impressively hard cock.

It was a miracle you didn’t slip and crack your skull open right then.

“Hey,” said Michael coolly, a smug smirk appearing on his lips when he noticed you staring at his length.

“Michael, what are you doing?” you asked, attempting to sound just a little less eager than you were feeling. You tilted your head back, quickly washing away the excess shampoo in your hair, and as you did this, Michael joined you in the shower.

“Saving water,” Michael replied, pulling the door shut and enclosing the two of you within the stream.

“How environmentally friendly of you.”

“Aww, are you still mad at me?” You tensed as he grabbed your hips and brought you closer to him, the head of his cock brushing your stomach and sending chills throughout your body.

“I was never mad at you,” you said flatly. You kept rinsing your hair, refusing to give Michael the attention he clearly was so desperately seeking (not yet, at least).

“You were a little jealous though, weren’t you?” he teased, squeezing your tits without warning and making you jump. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve already told you before that your pussy is my favorite.”

“I was never worried,” you snapped, but you couldn’t deny the arousal that immediately resulted from Michael’s words.

“Whatever you say, baby,” said Michael, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. You shivered at the feeling of his big cock on your ass, and all at once, whatever snarky comeback you’d been formulating disintegrated into nothingness.

Your eyes fell shut as Michael’s hands traveled over your body, his touch gentle but still possessive; he stopped at your tits, kneading the smooth peaks in both hands until they stung, kissing your shoulder when you squirmed at the slight discomfort. “Just relax and let your big brother take care of you.”

He retrieved your body wash off the ledge in the shower, gathering some in his palms and returning his attention to your tits. You leaned back, resting the back of your head on his broad shoulder as he began rubbing the body wash all over you (mainly focusing on your breasts, because what else would you expect from Michael Langdon?).

His slippery hands felt like heaven on your tits, pinching and toying with your nipples just the way you liked. It wasn’t until his hand began dipping lower, though, that your breath caught in your throat.

His fingers trailed past your stomach and down to cup your cunt, goosebumps erupting across your skin as he hummed in your ear. Your entire body reacted to his touch, muscles tightening and thighs trembling, hips rolling back so you could better feel his deliciously thick cock against your back.

“You like that? Like how I touch you?” he murmured, his words reverberating against your throat and igniting a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

With one hand, he used his fingers to splay apart your outer lips, gathering some of your wetness by stroking up and down your slit while his other hand worked at your tits. A familiar heat began to spread from behind your navel, and paired with the near-scalding warmth and great pressure of the shower stream, you felt your head start to spin.

You laid your head back on Michael’s shoulder, trusting him to keep you balanced as you reclined limply against him. His fingers moved upwards again, using the sticky arousal on the tips of his fingers to massage slow, lazy circles over your aching bud; you let out a gravelly moan just as Michael administered a sharp pinch to your hardened nipple.

“Fuck, Michael… feels so good.”

You were well past the point of preserving your pride, bucking your hips against Michael’s hand while trying to squeeze your thighs shut around it, keeping him close to you.

“Hm? Is that right? You like when I touch your pussy?” His voice was husky, rich and warm like a roll of tropical thunder; swallowing noisily, you bobbed your head up and down in agreement.

Garnering what little energy you had left, you extended your arm behind you, spreading your fingers in search of Michael’s erection; tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips at the feeling of his stiff, smooth skin, you followed the slightly jutting vein that wound up the side of his length, stopping at the head of his cock and running your thumb over his leaking slit.

He groaned at the sensation, encouraging you on. You returned your hand to the base of his cock, grazing your fingers along his sensitive balls before taking a firm hold of his shaft, pumping your fist up and down his length with as much vigor as you could manage.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and although he now had the added task of awaiting his own impending orgasm alongside bringing you to yours, his fingers did not falter between your legs. Every throaty groan passing his lips seemed to drive his fingers into more of a frenzy, forming fast, sloppy shapes on your aching bud until you were crying out.

“That’s a good- fuck- girl. Keep jerking your big brother’s cock, just like that. Feels so fucking good,” he breathed against your skin, making you shiver even despite the heavy, humid warmth of the bathroom. You could no longer see anything through the glass door, which had become entirely overtaken with thick fog; for a moment you felt like this was the only place on earth that existed- a closed-off world of steam and water and porcelain made just for you and Michael.

With your eyes shut tight as the coil in your belly prepared to snap, all you could do was listen to the melodic blend of sounds enveloping the small space and attempt to move your body in time with the makeshift rhythm. Not one sound fell upon deaf ears- you were hyper-aware of every vulgar, human noise; every breath and every moan; every squeak of wet feet on the slick white floor.

This might be the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, you thought.

“Fuck, Michael— more.” Stretching your other arm back to desperately grab at Michael’s damp mop of waves, you allowed yourself to come undone, arching your back so your erect nipples were pointed up towards the ceiling.

Michael brought his free hand away from your breasts, instead using it to brace himself against the shower door, creating a hand-shaped imprint in the steam that immediately began to drip with condensation.

Without thinking, you let go of Michael’s hair to join his hand on the glass; lacing your fingers through his, you worked at his cock with your opposite hand until his breaths grew ragged and choppy- a sure-fire sign that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, (y/n), keep going,” he moaned breathlessly, pressing his thumb harshly against your clit and nearly causing your knees to buckle underneath you. “Gonna- fuck.”

His cock twitched in your hand, and with that, he was cumming, shooting his thick load all over your ass and lower back. Miraculously, even as he recovered from his orgasm, he still continued to touch you; his fingers were like magic on your clit, and within a matter of seconds, you, too, were being sent over the edge.

“Oh god, Michael—“

Even during an earth-shattering orgasm like the one you were experiencing, you still were able to notice the way that Michael had switched spots on the glass with you, his large hand enclosing around yours and squeezing.

He didn’t remove his hand from between your thighs until you were twitching and overstimulated, and once he did, he pulled you into a hug, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open and shut again, like a person caught between life and death, when he planted a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m never gonna find anyone else like you,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper. You weren’t sure whether it was a reassurance to you, or a solemn statement of distress.

Either way, you swore you could hear something like sadness behind his words.

iii.

Since Miriam and your father were too preoccupied with their arguing to arrange any family excursions, you and Michael were left to your own devices.

Those next few days in Florida, your life was about as close to a teen romance movie as it could get. You and Michael spent the days exploring the nearby towns, trying out restaurants (it’d taken a startlingly long while for you to convince Michael to try out one of the local cafés for breakfast instead of McDonald’s, which had been his original idea) and going shopping; on one occasion, you shared a joint with Michael before dragging him to the local aquarium, which he’d pretended to be entirely disinterested in (even though you could see the wonder and fear in his eyes whilst staring at the shark exhibit- what would happen if the glass broke? he’d asked, nervously drumming his fingers on the paneling as a particularly large shark swam by).

You shared ice cream with him on the boardwalk, licking the chocolate soft serve that had melted off the cone and onto Michael’s hand off his fingers; you rubbed sunscreen on each other at the beach (although Michael wasn’t nearly as thorough as you were, and most of the time you’d wind up with a nasty sunburn thanks to his negligence); you bought 99-cent popsicles from a vendor, making out with cherry-stained lips while the sun went down.

At night, you’d sit on the beach, sometimes stoned, talking and laughing as the waves rolled in and out on the shore.

It was 3 am on your last night in Florida, and you and Michael had snuck out of the hotel room and walked down to the beach, large checkered blanket and a bottle of red wine in tow (Michael had charmed the woman behind the counter in a sketchy liquor store in order to obtain this). You were sitting side-by-side, thoughts clouded from the effects of the alcohol with your knees drawn to your chest, when a sudden realization washed upon you like one of the rumbling waves breaking against the shore.

You were in love with Michael Langdon.

This was an unwavering, undeniable fact; you were in love with him. You loved him, even the parts of him that, at one point, you had hated. The realization was both peaceful and upsetting.

“Michael,” you said, huddling closer to yourself as a cool breeze cut through the night. What were you going to say to him? You couldn’t very well tell him about the epiphany you’d just had- he’d been on Tinder just a few days ago, for god’s sake. But, still, you felt compelled to say something.

“Hmm?” He stretched out his legs, running his palms up and down his sand-covered calves. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the features of his face, save for the sparkling reflection in his eyes as he looked out towards the ocean.

You licked your lips, taking a swig from the half-empty bottle of wine that had been positioned upright in the sand. You winced at the bittersweet taste washing over your tongue, the blood-colored liquid sloshing noisily against its glass confines as you brought it back down to your side.

“I don’t know,” you said, suddenly feeling stupid. “It’s just- I don’t want this all to be over.”

“Me either,” he said, putting his arm around you and drawing you closer to him. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent of wine and stale cigarettes and salt water like it was oxygen and you’d just been saved from drowning. “I didn’t think I would, but I had a really great time this week.”

You shook your head. “I’m not just talking about this week. I just mean in general. I feel like it’s all ending so soon.”

“Oh.” He took in a breath, an especially large wave hitting the shore with a startling crash. “God, this fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Michael, I-“ I love you. The remaining words settled on the back of your tongue, refusing to roll off, but perhaps it was for the better. “-I think in another life, we could’ve worked out. Could’ve been something more than what we are. You know?”

If only, if only, if fucking only.

“Lucky us, being born in the universe where we’re fucking step siblings,” Michael laughed, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you’d never heard before. “But, (y/n). Even though shit isn’t working out the way we wanted it to, and even though it’s gonna hurt when we both go away to college, I’m still so glad that I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.”

There was only silence for a long moment as Michael reached for the wine bottle and took an indulgent sip. “There’s so much shit I wish could’ve been different,” he said finally, angling his head up towards the velvet blackness of the night sky. “I wish I’d treated you differently. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking scared of feeling something.”

You ran your fingers through the soft sand, forming meaningless patterns there as you listened to Michael open up for what felt like the first time since you’d met him.

“I used to lie awake at night and think of how fucking unfair this all is. That the one girl I’ve ever really wanted is the one girl I can’t have. I used to think if maybe I pushed you away, treated you like shit, that everything would hurt less. But it just hurt me more, seeing you in pain from the shit I put you through. And now I realize that it’s all gonna hurt the same either way. ‘Cause I’ll never have you the way I want.”

You felt a well-known pinching behind your eyes, and you blinked, silently willing away the tears that were threatening to escape. You kept your eyes on the drawings you’d made in the ground, knowing that if you were to look into Michael’s eyes, you’d probably break.

“What’s gonna happen to us, Michael? We can’t just wait for each other while we’re away at college and miss out on life. But god, I wanna be with you,” you said, voice quivering.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I say we just…live our lives. And if it’s meant to be, it will be. One day.”

You nodded, dragging your fingers through the sand and destroying the mindless spirals and swirls you’d formed. “One day.”

“But enough with all that sad shit,” said Michael, taking your chin in hand and moving it so you were looking at him. “What’s important is that we have each other right now. So let’s make the most of that, hm?”

The look in Michael’s eyes told you right away what he meant by making the most of your time together; your cheeks were hot, prickling from the red wine, fingertips burning to touch something. So you did- you grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt, yanking him towards you and placing a haphazard, open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

The kiss was aggressive and feverish; it didn’t take long for Michael to lay you down on the checkered blanket, his hands wandering your body like it belonged to him (and, in a way, it did).

When Michael broke away to catch his breath, panting, you decided to try something new: with all the strength you could muster, you pushed Michael off of you and promptly rolled on top of him instead, straddling him with your knees on either side of his torso.

In the faint glow of the silvery moonlight, you could see an indistinct smirk playing at his lips; it wasn’t often that you were the one to take control, but it was obvious, from the growing protrusion in the front of his pants, that he liked the change.

You leaned down to reattach your lips to his, hips rocking back and forth over his bulge until the friction sent shock waves up your spine. With you bent forward, Michael was easily able to slide his veined hands up the back of your short skirt, taking two greedy fistfuls of your ass.

Almost frantically, you tore your shirt off over your head, not bothering to worry about where it landed. Now, the only thing separating your breasts from the nighttime air was a thin lace bralette, which Michael took to palming you through.

“Fuck, (y/n),” murmured Michael, rolling one of your hardened nipples between two fingers. “You have seriously got the best tits.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you said, a twinge of playful mocking to your voice; you wrapped your fingers around Michael’s wrists, maneuvering them so that both his hands were fondling your breasts.

“Fuck yeah, I think so,” he said, and you only wished there was just a bit more light so you could properly admire him in his disheveled, lustful state.

“Even better than those girls on Tinder you matched with?” you taunted, grinding your hips down hard against Michael’s erection. “I wonder what they’d think about all the times you’ve been balls deep in your stepsister.”

At this, he tightened his grip on your tits, twisting them almost painfully before hoisting up the thin fabric of your bralette so your nipples were exposed. You helped him in removing the garment, pulling it off and throwing it alongside your shirt, never once ceasing the motion of your hips against his clothed, twitching cock.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Michael said, running his thumbs over your nipples. “Otherwise I’d take you over my lap and spank your ass raw for being such a little bitch.”

“And you’re lucky you have a big dick,” you shot back, words catching in your throat when he tugged hard on one of your nipples. “Otherwise I never would’ve given your fuckboy ass the time of day.”

This was a lie, of course, but your lighthearted tone of voice was enough to let him know that you were only messing around.

Michael scoffed. “No, I think you’re the one who’s lucky that I have a big dick, considering that you’re a total fucking cock-hungry slut.”

You stifled a laugh. Well, he’s not wrong.

“Is that a complaint?” you said, lips quirking as you scooted your body slightly downward, giving yourself room to pull Michael’s now-fully hard cock out. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you took the pulsing length in hand, moving your thin panties to the side and repositioning yourself so that the head of Michael’s cock was nestled just barely against your entrance.

Michael shook his head rapidly, a throaty grunt passing his lips. “Obviously- fuck- not.”

It was almost amusing to you, the way you and Michael had gone from having a heartfelt conversation to teasing each other relentlessly, but you supposed that was what you loved about your dynamic anyway. Unable to hold off any longer, you guided Michael’s cock inside you, gliding down easily on his length until he was fully seated inside. Your mouth fell open, and as you began to properly ride him, he brought his hands to grip your hips with a tight, bruising hold.

“Fuck, Michael,” you sighed, tits bouncing as you rolled your hips forward, increasing your momentum. Michael slid one hand from your hip to your inner thigh, pinching the tender skin before bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.

A pleasant, salt water-scented breeze passed by as you rode Michael, further disheveling your hair, which you ran your fingers through; the lewd noises of your body connecting with Michael’s were overtaken by the unmistakable sounds of the tide.

“Good girl, riding my cock so fucking good,” Michael breathed, lifting up his free hand so he could push two fingers into your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered at the salt of his skin, lips instinctively wrapping around his calloused digits and sucking.

Swirling your tongue over Michael’s fingers, you continued riding him, swaying your hips in figure-eight motions; the thick girth of his cock stretched your tight walls, and from this angle, you could practically feel him in your stomach.

The pad of Michael’s thumb pressed against your clit again, and as electric pleasure rippled up your spine, it took everything inside you not to cum right then and there. Your pussy was clenching tight around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go—you didn’t want to be apart from him. Not yet.  

For a second, you could see every contoured feature of Michael’s face illuminated in the pale light of the moon, the exaggerated shadows and highlights coming together to form an image that was almost otherworldly. His eyes were droopy-lidded, so much so that you might’ve thought his eyes were shut if it weren’t for the glint of his pupils; he’d sucked his full lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on the rosy pink flesh as he admired your curved, supple figure on top of him.

I love him, you thought, matter-of-fact, as he pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and dragged them down between your tits, leaving a shiny trail of saliva in their wake.

I love him, you thought, bowing your body forward to kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as you hurried your pace on his cock.

I love him.

Why the fuck did you have to love him? It wasn’t fair. Your insides churned with jealousy at the thought of all the other teenage girls who were currently experiencing their first love; you thought of the constant Instagram posts of girls in new, happy relationships, the public displays of affection against lockers between classes. Those things, so seemingly insignificant, would never become a part of your reality (or at least not any reality involving Michael).

In another life you’d have Michael over for dinner to meet your father, holding his hand under the table when you’d notice his thigh jiggling anxiously. You’d kiss him freely without the underlying fear, swirling deep in the pit of your belly, that someone might catch you. You’d be his prom date, match your gown to his bow tie and take awkward pictures with him, his strong arms holding you from behind.

In another life, things would be normal. In another life, you and Michael would be happy together.

“(Y/n),” groaned Michael; the sound of his raspy voice calling your name was enough to send you over the edge, bracing your tense body with one hand next to his head as you rode out your orgasm.

You were able to move even faster now, both of his hands holding your ass as you leaned far enough forward that you could bury your head in his neck. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you was almost too much now that you’d orgasmed, but you didn’t stop, eager to witness Michael drift into his own realm of bliss.

“Fuck—“ was all that could leave Michael’s lips before he came, using your ass to hold you in place as he spilled his warm load inside of you. You  didn’t move, keeping your face by his neck so you could listen to him catch his breath.

When you finally picked yourself up, Michael looked down to his shoulder and furrowed his eyebrows. “Were you just crying?”

Fuck. Yes, yes you were. Tears had apparently leaked from the corners of your eyes without you realizing, wetting his neck and the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. You said nothing, pulling off him to retrieve the clothing articles that you’d discarded in the sand earlier.

“Just a little,” you said, embarrassed, shaking the sand off your bralette and putting it on. “Red wine makes me angsty.”

“Oh.” There was a pregnant pause as Michael cleared his throat. “C’mon, (y/n), it’s not so bad.”

There was wavering uncertainty veiled beneath the confidence of his words, and you could tell he was trying to convince himself of this sentiment just as much as he was trying to convince you. Your back was to him as you slipped your shirt over your head, willing yourself not to start crying again.

“(Y/n)?”

His hand was on your back, the tips of his fingers circling lightly over the fabric of your shirt. You turned to face him, slowly. “Yes?”

“I…” He halted for a moment, contemplating something. “I really, really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone before.”

“I really, really like you too.” Somewhere, a chorus of crickets were unknowingly performing a custom symphony for your own teen romance movie moment. Michael took your hand in his, lacing his long fingers through yours, and you swallowed.

He looked down at your joined hands, an almost solemn look on his face. “Just. I don’t want you to forget, all right? No matter what happens.”

No matter what happens. You didn’t want to think of what he could mean by that.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, as if to shield your words from the ocean’s prying ears. “I won’t forget.”

And that, you knew, was an irrefutable fact.

iv.

Late August hit you like a truck, coming by so unexpectedly that you thought surely you’d been caught in some kind of time slip. Your college move-in date was a week before Michael’s, and so Michael had spent the days leading up to your departure helping you pack (he’d also, of course, made plenty of time for “breaks” throughout the process, one of which consisted of you being fucked on the floor amidst the vast array of brown moving boxes).

Your bedroom was now a shell of what it’d once been- the comfortable teenage clutter you’d been so accustomed to was now gone, and you’d finally gotten around to throwing out the pictures and stickers you’d had on your wall since freshman year. It was depressing, hollow.

On the morning of your move-in date, your father helped you bring your belongings to the car and load the trunk. The car ride was going to be fairly long, and you were dreading it, especially since Michael wasn’t coming along. He had his own matters to attend to, what with his own move-in date creeping near, and the car would be far too crowded with all your things there anyway.

You were scheduled to leave at 9, and downstairs you could hear your father and Miriam shuffling around as they prepared for the trip. You sat at the edge of your bed, surrounded by the pale purple sheets you’d had for as long as you could remember, idly scraping the toe of your sneaker back and forth along the wooden floor.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of this, but when had you ever been ready for anything life had thrown your way? You hadn’t been ready to fall in love with your stepbrother, and yet that had happened all the same.

From across the hall, Michael’s bedroom door cracked open, and out he came in his flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt (which now perfectly complemented the slight summertime hue of bronze to his skin), blond hair in beautiful disarray. Your heart ached- you were going to miss seeing him in the morning, all sleepy and soft, voice pitched lower than usual from sleep.

You recalled all the times you’d passed him as he stood at the counter in the bathroom, brushing his teeth; he’d look at you with a lazy half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his elbows resting on the edge of the sink. He always looked so handsome even when he wasn’t trying, a quality you almost envied him for.

He noticed you watching him from the corner of your bed as he approached the doorway, waving at you as he balanced his shoulder against the frame.

“‘Morning,” he said, his bleary-eyed gaze meeting yours. He looked tired, dark rings prevalent beneath his crystal blue eyes, and you briefly wondered if he’d gotten much sleep the night before. “You should be grateful that I got up at the ass crack of dawn to say goodbye to you.”

“The ass crack of dawn? Michael, it’s 8:45,” you said, and if you really tried, you could almost pretend that this was a regular conversation between the two of you, and not the very last time you’d be interacting face-to-face until November.

“Yeah, well, 8:45 is the ass crack of dawn to me,” he said, and you stood up, meeting him halfway in the middle of your barren room. He flashed you a grin, but there wasn’t much happiness behind it, and you could see that he was… uncomfortable? Sad? Angry?— you couldn’t quite tell— from the way he’d folded his arms in front of his stomach. “So yeah. I, uh, wanted to say goodbye. And also remind you not to fuck too many frat guys. You could, like, catch something.”

“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise anything,” you joked, following the sentence with a forced-sounding chuckle. “Bye, Michael.”

You stepped forward, winding your arms around Michael’s waist and placing your head against his chest; you could just barely hear his heart beating, the warmth of his skin touching your cheek even through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head, strong arms holding you to him in an unyielding embrace. “So much.”

There were too many things you wanted to say, racing through your mind so quickly that it’d be impossible to articulate them aloud. Instead, you let out a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as you tried your hardest to immerse yourself completely in Michael’s touch. Sometimes, there didn’t need to be any words for you to understand each other.

“Don’t be sad about this, (y/n). When you’re at college, you’re gonna meet so many guys who are so much better than I am. And you’re gonna wonder why you ever were hung up on a dumbass like me.” His tone was lighthearted, but you knew better than to really believe that he was unbothered. “But I don’t think I’ll ever find someone better than you. I’m so fucking lucky that you gave me as many chances as you did. I didn’t deserve them.”

“You’re wrong,” you said, pulling away so you could look pointedly into Michael’s eyes. God, his eyes were beautiful, and you drank in the moment, knowing this was your last chance to really look into them face-to-face. “I gave you those chances because even though you acted like a total fucking asshole, I still knew there was good in you. I could just… feel it.”

He cocked an eyebrow skepticall y. “No, you gave me all those second chances because I give good head and have a big dick.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe those were contributing factors, but they weren’t the only reasons I stuck around.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, licking his lips and settling his hands on your hips. “For the record, your pussy really is my favorite. Like, I wasn’t just saying that.”

“I’m honored.”

The interaction was cut short by the sound of your father calling you from downstairs, indicating that it was time to leave, and your heart sank deep into your stomach. Standing up on the tips of your toes, you planted a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying out into the hall, waving over your shoulder as you went.

“Bye, (y/n),” Michael said, not moving from where he stood in your bedroom. He’d dug his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shoulders slumped forward as he watched you go. For a moment, you wished you’d hugged him for longer. “See you in November.”

“See you,” you called back, imitating nonchalance to the best of your ability, only averting your gaze when you felt tears wobbling along your waterline, threatening to overflow and spill down your cheeks.

In that last moment before you turned, you could almost swear that he had tears in his eyes, too.

v.

When you finally made your way up those familiar porch steps again, the November air chilling you slightly even despite the thick sweater you wore, you felt like an entirely different person.

Those first few months of college had been a blur; your life was far more interesting than it’d ever been while you were in high school (if you didn’t count the whole ‘fucking your stepbrother’ thing), with a surplus of boys at your disposal at all times. You’d gotten perhaps a bit carried away with the dating and partying and hookups, but you figured you were simply making up for all the experiences you’d missed out on in high school.

Michael was a thought that you trained yourself to keep tucked away. During those first few weeks, you’d spent several nights crying yourself to sleep, the stiff dorm room bed so uninviting compared to the way Michael’s arms had always felt around you. At parties, you’d scan the crowds for boys with blond hair and blue eyes, hoping that one of them could temporarily stand in for Michael during your time away from him. None of them fulfilled the requirements, of course- you’d come to realize early on that nobody was quite as good as Michael Langdon. It took a while for you to stop searching for Michael in every boy you became acquainted with, but with practice, you became rather skilled in the art of forgetting.

You and Michael kept in contact, albeit only sometimes. His messages to you were comprised mainly of memes he’d found on Instagram that he thought you’d appreciate, along with the occasional drunk text late at night (‘Cna you send me a pci of your tits/??? Lmfao’ was one of your favorite messages from him that you’d received thus far). It made you feel special to know that he was thinking of you, even despite being surrounded by girls like you assumed he probably was.

You tried not to think of him too much, though- you knew you’d drive yourself crazy if you did.

When Thanksgiving time rolled around, you were confronted with the fact that you’d be seeing Michael again for the first time in months, a prospect that ignited your nerves far more than you were willing to admit. As excited as you were to see him, you also couldn’t help but worry: what if he announced that he’d found a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to you anymore? What if you weren’t attracted to him anymore?

It probably would be easier for the both of you if things played out that way, but you didn’t want things to be easy. It was unrealistic, but part of you was praying that things would be exactly as they were before you’d gone away.

Your hand trembled a bit as you raised it to the doorbell, and you braced yourself before jamming your finger into the button. From inside the house, you heard the muffled, off-key tone as it resounded throughout the upstairs area, followed by bounding footsteps down the stairs that you pinpointed as belonging to your father.

The front swung open and there was your father, a wide smile stretched across his face as he ushered you inside, taking it upon himself to bring in your travel bag for you. “(Y/n)! Finally! How was the train ride?”

“Not bad,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. As soon as you were apart, you started up the stairs, your pulse quickening as you came closer and closer to the moment you’d been anticipating for months. “Did Michael get back already?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

Your heart skipped at this revelation; your legs couldn’t bring you to the top of the stairs fast enough, and, sensing your heightened enthusiasm, your father chuckled from behind you. “Hey, hold on a second. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you said breathlessly, the rubber soles of your sneakers making noisy contact with the wooden upstairs floor. You supposed that maybe you should’ve spent more time greeting your father, but you could no longer contain yourself- you needed to see Michael.

Leaving your bag at the top of the stairs, you hurried to the hallway where your bedrooms were located, unable to stifle your eagerness. You felt like a starved animal, finally being presented with food by a pair of benevolent hands, and you were ready to devour.

You didn’t bother knocking on Michael’s door when you approached it, bursting in with such force that you stumbled over your feet. The room was dim, what with the blinds being open so only a few rays of late-afternoon sunlight could peek through; seated in front of his once-cluttered empty desk, now occupied only by a laptop, was Michael, massive headphones positioned over his ears as he fixated on whatever stupid game he was currently playing (does he still play fortnite? you wondered).

The sound of your intrusion was loud enough to catch his attention, and as his head turned from his computer screen to your face, something shifted in his eyes. Immediately, he tore off his headphones, jumping to his feet so abruptly that they clattered to the ground. “Holy fuck, (y/n).”

It was evident, from the way you fell easily into his arms, that the attraction hadn’t faded. If anything, the distance apart seemed to have only made the magnetic connection between you grow even stronger.

Your lips clashed together feverishly (you had no idea who had been the one to initiate this— it seemed that you’d both moved in perfect unison into one another), hands wandering freely over each other’s bodies and teeth bumping against teeth. When you broke away, a string of saliva stretching and breaking between your faces, Michael beamed down at you.

The slight layer of baby fat that had once rounded out Michael’s cheeks appeared to have dissipated, his cheekbones even more pronounced than you remembered them being. His sharp jaw was shadowed with the smallest touch of brown stubble, (which you assumed was there because he’d been too lazy to shave), but you thought the more mature look suited him well.

“Jesus, (y/n), I missed you.” His voice was like smooth velvet; you’d inject it into your bloodstream if you could. “You’re even more fucking beautiful than I remembered.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d be grossed out by my freshman fifteen,”  you laughed.

“Fuck no. The fatter the ass, the better,” he said with a devious smirk, running his long fingers through his overgrown mop of blond hair. He smelled just like you remembered, a mixture of cinnamon gum and cigarettes and cologne (and the faintest hint of marijuana, of course), and you wished you could bottle up his scent and take it with you.

“So you’re still a fuckboy, I see,” you teased, twisting the front of Michael’s t-shirt in your hands and pulling him towards you. “Some things just never change, I guess.”

“Guess not.” He was speaking lowly now, assuming the smooth tone he always used when he was attempting to seduce you, and as if on cue came a dull, throbbing ache between your legs. “I wonder if your pussy is as good as I remember?”

His fingers found their way to the bottom of your sweater, fumbling with the chunky fabric and swiftly maneuvering it off over your head. You mirrored his actions, pulling off his shirt and exposing his torso, pressing your lips back against his with urgency once his upper half had been disrobed.

“Fuck…” you breathed against his parted mouth, palming the growing erection in the front of his pale gray sweatpants (your favorite pair of pants that he owned). “Need you to fuck me, Mikey…”

“Is that right?” He tilted his head to one side, kissing you deeply as he bent his knees, using his own weight as leverage to lift you up. You intertwined your ankles behind Michael’s back, securing your place in his toned arms as he carried you over to his bed; the vulgar, wet sound of your tongues melding together filled the room as he laid you down on his checkered comforter, your legs still wrapped snugly around him. “Did my baby sis miss having her pussy split on her big bro’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you purred; there truly was no man in existence better at dirty talking than Michael. You tensed in excitement when he began fumbling with the top button of your jeans, proceeding to deftly work the form-fitting denim material down your thighs once he’d freed it from its hold. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Impatiently, you reached between your bodies, your fingers coming upon the thick outline of his bulge as he peppered your throat with sloppy kisses. You moved your hand up to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging the elastic as far back as you could; this resulted in him chuckling against your flesh, your body erupting in goosebumps at the sensation.

“So needy,” he mumbled, the vibrations of his plump lips traveling straight down to your cunt. “Did you touch yourself when you were away at school, thinking of me? Thinking of how good I touch you, how hard I make you cum?”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, rolling your hips in melodic time with his, his clothed cock making friction against your thinly veiled pussy. “C’mon, just fuck me already. Please.”

“I like it when you beg,” he said, smug, standing so he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers, putting his long, weighted cock on display for you. You lifted your knees up for him, and in one swift motion he stripped you of your flimsy black thong. “Beg me again.”

You squirmed, sliding your flat palm down your stomach so you could touch yourself between your parted thighs; slowly, you coated your fingers with your own sticky essence, looking up at Michael from under a canopy of thick lashes. “Fuck me, Michael. I need you.”

“Ask nicely,” he chided, hoisting your thigh up to drape around his waist, eyes darkening as he observed your fingers spreading your slick wetness around your folds.

“Pleeaaaaseeee, Mikey,” you pleaded, syllables so drawn out that it almost sounded like you were singing. “It’s been so long.”

“Fuck.” He brought his lower lip into his mouth, sucking for a moment as he lined the flushed head of his cock up with your dripping entrance. When he released it, it was several shades darker than it’d been before, completely swollen and glossy with spit. “I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I saw you.”

Taking a firm grip of your thighs, he slid effortlessly into your tight heat, your jaw unhinging at the intrusion; you’d definitely be feeling him for the next few days, his thick shaft stretching out your narrow walls to the point where it was almost painful. You liked it, though, liked the delicious burn that only he could create, reminding you of who you belonged to.

“Shit,” he hissed, pausing momentarily to compose himself before assuming a deep, hard rhythm to fuck you with. “You’re so fucking tight. Must not’ve fucked anyone as big as me while you were away.”

All you could manage was a broken moan, your head lolling back towards the ceiling. He bottomed out inside you, bringing himself down to press his chest against yours, indulging in the feel of your warm, wet cunt as it spasmed around his massive length. When you started whining for more, he retracted his hips back until only the head of his cock was inside you, slamming back inside so hard that you were sent halfway up the bed.

“Oh god, Michael…” Your fingernails scraped aimlessly along the warm skin of his back, eyelids flickering open and shut in a fucked-out daze. You’d slept with a handful of guys at college, but none of them even came close to fucking you the way Michael did. He was just… special.

Fuck, I love him.

The thought startled you; you’d almost been able to forget about the little epiphany you’d had, that night in Florida when you and Michael sat side-by-side by the ocean. But now that you were with him— under him, taking every last agonizing inch of his cock, it became obvious that those feelings had remained stagnant.

After all the boys you’d been through at college, you still loved him.

God, were you fucked.

“Missed my baby girl so much,” Michael murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear and peering down at you. His forehead was glowing, the sides of his face framed with cute, damp curls of blond hair; he was so beautiful, you thought. How had you survived so long without him?

He impaled you again with a sharp upwards thrust, a string of expletives passing your lips and mixing with the lewd sounds of sex swimming through the air.  “I missed you— fuck!— too.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” he said, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and running his tongue along the salty skin. “Your pussy is fucking dripping for me.”

“Keep going,” you panted, wetting your chapped lips; with each brutal thrust of Michael’s cock, you bucked your hips forward to meet him halfway, desperate for all that he had to offer. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how I split you open?” His hips pounded against yours with a bruising intensity, his chest pinning you down as you writhed beneath his lean frame. His voice was becoming hoarse, breaths short and choppy, letting you know that he was close.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, more…” Your affirmations were like a prayer, encouraging Michael to fuck you even deeper, his torso making electric contact with your clit as he moved his body in time with yours. “Make me cum, Mikey, please..”

The wind was knocked from your lungs each time he pumped his length into you, and by the time the coil in your stomach was unwinding, you were struggling to catch your breath. You ran your hands through Michael’s sweat-soaked hair, letting the strands stretch around your fingers as you tugged at the root; Your toes curled when Michael administered a particularly hard thrust inside you, your lips falling open in a silent scream; there was a burst of brilliant colors behind your eyelids as you finally reached your climax, your thighs shaking as they clasped firmly around Michael’s waist.

Like a perfect teen-movie cliché, Michael came just as you did; the feeling of his hot load as it spilled deep inside your cunt was a welcomed one, and your spongey inner walls instinctively clamped down, milking his cock for all it was worth.

With a throaty grunt, Michael pulled out of you, his cum dribbling crudely down your inner thigh and onto his bedspread, which he didn’t appear to pay any attention to. Lying down beside you, he sighed, bare chest shining with slick perspiration.

“I missed doing that,” Michael rasped, eyes focused up towards the ceiling rather than on you.

“So did I,” you said, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of Michael’s torso, watching his stomach rise and fall with each breath he took. “I can’t wait to have you all Christmas break.”

Michael’s lips turned downwards at the corners, his eyebrows knitting together in a pained display. “Oh. Yeah.”

It seemed as though he’d wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips shut into a thin line, Adam’s apple bobbing. What the hell? All at once you felt nauseous- there was something about the way he’d said those two words that made you very, very uneasy.

You sat up, your mind already starting to overflow with horrid possibilities. “What, Michael?”

“I, um. I have to tell you something.” Michael’s eyes darted throughout the room before settling on his palms. You frowned, mouth going dry at his apparent reluctance to talk to you, thoughts racing in all directions to try and pinpoint what exactly he might say.

“Michael…”

“So. Um.” He was stalling, extending his arms up so his palms were flat on his forehead, still refusing to look at you as he contemplated his words. “So you remember over the summer when I spilled Red Bull on my laptop?”

You raised an eyebrow. Where exactly was he going with this? “Yeah?”

“And remember how I would borrow my mom’s laptop to play video games while I was waiting for it to get repaired?”

“Yes, I remember. Can you just get to the point?” You were growing impatient, the anxiety increasing with each additional second that Michael continued to leave you in the dark.

“Okay, well…” He inhaled sharply. “I was borrowing her laptop one night and ended up looking at the search history because, well… you can probably guess why. Anyway. I ended up seeing all these searches for, like, new apartments and divorce lawyers.”

Oh shit. Divorce lawyers? Was he about to say what you were thinking he was about to say? “You mean…?”

Michael held up a hand as if to say let me finish, and you held your tongue. “So like, I asked her about it. And she told me that her and your dad are, like, splitting up or whatever. But she told me not to mention anything about it in case they ended up working shit out.”

You didn’t understand— wasn’t this good news? If your parents divorced, wouldn’t you finally be able to be with Michael the way you wanted? You forced down the giddiness that started to bubble up from your stomach and into your throat, knowing that there had to be a catch if Michael was acting so serious.

“So our parents are getting a divorce?”

“Well… there’s more.” He licked his lips, finally gathering the courage to look at you, the expression on his face so grim that it scared you a little. “She found an apartment in California. And she’s moving us there next month.”

California!?

No, this couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? This was perhaps even worse than the predicament you were already in. If Michael moved to California, it was pretty fucking likely that you’d never see him again.

“I… what? And you’ve known all this for how long!?” Your voice was pitched several octaves higher now, eyes watering uncontrollably, and you felt as though you were on the brink of having a total fucking meltdown.

“I always thought there was a chance they’d get things worked out, or that my mom would change her mind about moving so far away. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I already knew you were sad about us going away to college, so I just thought-”

“-Answer the question, Michael! How long have you known this for?” Hot, angry tears were falling down your face and onto your bare chest, your entire body shaking with an overwhelming mixture of rage and despair.

He sighed. “Since August.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. How could he have hidden this from you for so long? “And you never thought to tell me? So I could at least come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never see you again once you move?”

“I didn’t wanna ruin the rest of our time together,” he said softly, eyes glossy with tears that were still yet to fall. “I fucked up, okay? I should’ve told you as soon as I found out. But I kept thinking that maybe something would change, and…I don’t know. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“Fuck,” you mumbled. Your limbs felt numb and heavy, your heart hollow. “Why did your mom have to choose fucking California, of all places?”

“I dunno. I think it has to do with this weird religion thing she’s into,” he said. “Look, (y/n), if I had any choice, I’d stay here. But you know I can’t afford my own place right now.”

“I know. It’s just-“ you collapsed backwards, your back making contact with the bed below with a soft thud. “This is so fucking unfair. We’re finally able to be together- like, really be together. But of course there has to be a catch.”

“Remember what I said, (y/n)? How if things are meant to be, they will be?” It sounded to you like Michael was attempting to make sense of a senseless situation, but you let him speak, somewhat comforted by his words. “I only have to stay in California until I can afford my own place. And I’ll still be going to the same college, so we won’t be too far from each other during the school year.”

Your college was a five hour drive away from Michael’s. Would he really be willing to make such a long trip up to see you? Would you be willing to take a trip to see him, with the new knowledge looming on your conscience that he would no longer be an arm’s length away once the school year was up? You wanted to be optimistic, but how could you be? A fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes, blurring your vision, but your cries faded to soft whimpers when Michael pulled you up against his chest.

You tried not to remind yourself of the fact that this would likely be one of the last times you’d be able to feel him there against you, one of the last times you’d absorb the heat from his skin, his distinct scent overtaking you like a natural aphrodisiac, intoxicating you.

You tried to reason with reality: if the universe had tried so hard to keep you apart all this time, maybe you and Michael being together had simply not been written in the stars (or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself— how could a connection so strong not be meant to be?, you asked yourself dejectedly). The way you felt for Michael was special, unlike anything else you’d ever experienced before. He was a natural high, a gust of fresh springtime air, a golden ray of good in a gray-black world of bad.

But, as the saying went, all good things must come to an end. Don’t they?

Perhaps you’d always known, in the very back of your mind, that things would never work out. Perhaps you’d always known that your heart would wind up broken (no, not broken— incinerated). The cards had never been in your favor, and there had been a hundred million warning signs that you’d blatantly ignored time and time again.

But it hurt.

And you doubted it would ever stop hurting. The pain of losing Michael might one day fade from a stabbing agony to a dull ache, but that initial wound would likely never heal completely.

The only thing left to do now was stay entangled in Michael’s warmth for as long as possible, and make weary peace with the tragic ending your time with Michael had come to.

“If we survived being stepsiblings, we can survive this,” Michael said, his lips against your knotted hair, firm arms holding your naked body with a delicate tenderness that you weren’t used to. “You know that when I want something, I make sure that I get it. And what I want, (y/n), is you.”

You nodded, curling into Michael, your bodies fitting together like two perfectly-cut puzzle pieces.

“And I’m gonna have you.” You felt his hand smooth your hair out, and then he placed a kiss on your forehead, as if to imprint his words into your brain. “One day.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and all at once you were lost in a rushing sea of crystal blue, like the one that had lapped against the shore that night you’d fallen in love. As you reached up to caress Michael’s porcelain cheek, thumb grazing the rough stubble that had gathered along his jaw, you couldn’t help but believe him.

One day.

[nataschasfm]

            hello  everyone  ,  i’m  lia  !  i’m  21+  ,  prefer  she / they  pronouns  ,  reside  in  the  est  timezone  ,  and  i’m  super  stoked  to  be  here  !  i  have  been  wanting  to  write  out  an  older  muse  for  quite  some  time  now  ,  and  i’m  really  happy  that  i  stumbled  upon  manhattan  at  like  ...  4am  the  other  day  !  i  won’t  bore  you  with  my  own  intro  because  i’m  incapable  of  condensing  my  writing  (  a  true  lover  of  details  )  ,  but  please  feel  free  to  message  me  on  discord  if  that’s  the  best  place  for  you  when  it  comes  to  plotting  ,  or  we  can  keep  it  in  the  im’s  !  i  will  admit  to  natascha  being  a  relatively  new  muse  ,  so  please  excuse  me  for  any  kinks  i  may  work  out  as  time  progresses  ,  but  i  can’t  wait  to  read  everyone’s  intros  and  plot with  your  amazing  muses  !

            bae  joohyun  .  cis  female  .  she  /  her  //  you  don’t  know  ?  that’s  NATASHA  SUH  !  they’re  a  THIRTY  year  old  fashion  stylist  and  entrepreneur  from  OJAI  ,  CALIFORNIA  .  as  part  of  manhattan’s  elite  ,  the  amaranth  is  known  to  be  POISED  &  OBTRUSTIVE  .  most  people  recognize  them  by  trying  on  ten  outfits  before  picking  the  first  ,  the  sound  of  luxurious  suitcase  wheels  on  airport  floors  ,  the  soft  scent  of  vanilla  lingering  in  shower  steam  ,  and  the  gentle  sparkle  in  her  eyes  when  she  gets  what  she  wants  .

NAME  :  natascha  suh  .

NICKNAME(S)  :  sascha  ,  primarily  .  nat  and  tasch  .

AGE  +  DOB  :  thirty  +  february  19th  ,  1990  .

HEIGHT  :  5′2″  .

ASTROLOGICAL  SIGN  :  pisces  .

MORAL  ALIGNMENT  :  chaotic  good  .

GENDER  +  PRONOUNS  :  cis  female  +  she  /  her  /  hers  .

PLACE  OF  BIRTH  :  ojai  ,  california  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION  :  bisexual  .

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION  :  biromantic  

OCCUPATION  :  fashion  stylist  and  entrepreneur  .

NATIONALITY  :  korean - american  .

ETHNICITY  :  korean  .

LANGUAGES  SPOKEN  :  english  ,  korean  ,  and  conversational  japanese  .

background  .

natascha  grew  up  in  the  beautiful  ojai  ,  california  to  a  neurosurgeon  of  a  father  and  a  yoga  instructor  /  stay  at  home  wife  of  a  mother  .  on  one  hand  ,  natascha’s  home  life  was  very  comfortable  ,  but  she  also  never  really  knew  what  she  wanted  to  be  when  she  grew  up  .  at  three  ,  she  would  have  said  that  she  wanted  to  be  a  princess  .  at  thirteen  ,  she  would  have  said  she  wanted  to  be  a  lawyer  (  much  to  the  dismay  of  her  father  )  ,  but  she  didn’t  really  know  what  she  wanted  to  do  until  she  was  sixteen  and  tasked  with  the  responsibility  of  her  first  car  .

given  a  1995  volvo  850  ,  she  was  suddenly  tasked  with  paying  for  maintenance  and  her  portion  of  the  insurance  .  as  most  sixteen  year  olds  did  in  2006  ,  she  went  out  and  nabbed  herself  a  job  at  the  local  mall  .  during  that  time  ,  it  was  eight  hours  of  work  a  day  to  pay  for  her  most  prized  possession  ,  but  natascha  also  fell  in  love  with  clothes  .  sure  ,  she  had  a  closet  full  of  pieces  that  she  adored  ,  but  she  never  had  an  appreciation  for  what  went  into  styling  .

so  ,  as  she  worked  at  various  stores  in  the  mall  (  she  worked  at  three  up  until  she  was  nineteen  )  ,  she  learned  what  it  took  to  style  the  mannequins  after  begging  each  one  of  her  managers  to be  tasked  with  the  job  .  she  was  always  working  her  hardest  to  show  off  what  she  knew  ,  but  in  the  beginning  it  wasn’t  so  easy  .  she  was  often  told  to  redo  something  ,  to  take  away  a  certain  accessory  ,  or  to  change  the  outfit  all  together  .    

natascha  slowly  worked  her  way  to  becoming  a  stylist  at  neiman  marcus  when  she  was  twenty  ,  but  she  didn’t  want  to  leave  it  there  .  so  ,  natascha  went  off  to  attend  the  academy  of  art  university  where  she  obtained  an  associate’s  in  fashion  styling  .  while  there  ,  it  took  a  lot  of  time  networking  with  various  people  ,  attending  a  ton  of  social  events  ,  and  juggling  a  full  time  job  post  graduation  to  get  the  dream  she  was  hoping  to  obtain  .  natascha  spent  a  lot  of  time  telling  little  white  lies  to  her  parents  about  being  okay  ,  when  in  reality  ,  she  was  constantly  overwhelmed  .

it  took  about  two  years  of  grinding  nonstop  before  natascha  encountered  a  photographer  ,  and  said  photographer  helped  her  land  a  dream  job  :  styling  a  shoot  for  british  vogue  .  next  thing  you  know  ,  she  was  on  a  flight  to  london  about  to  do  what  she  loved  .  a  few  months  later  ,  natascha  nabbed  one  of  the  magazines  from  her  local  bookseller  ,  and  she  was  brought  to  tears  when  she  saw  her  name  published  in  a  true  magazine  .

this  was  only  the  start  ,  because  soon  ,  her  phone  was  ringing  off  of  the  hook  and  she  was  only  twenty - five  !  while  she  loved  styling  for  magazines  ,  natascha  eventually  moved  into  personal  styling  because  she  loved  helping  people  fall  in  love  with  clothes  ,  but  also  helping  them  feel  good  in  their  clothes  .  thanks  to  the  introduction  of  instagram  ,  natascha  was  reaching  more  people  and  able  to  network  much  easier  ,  so  here  she  was  officially  building  a  brand  .  

natascha  was  twenty - seven  when  she  officially  purchased  a  showroom  ,  and  she  was  once  again  moved  to  tears  when  natascha  suh  style  lit  up  on  the  neon  sign  .  she  was  proud  to  see  her  styling  be  posted  on  instagrams  and  on  twitter  ,  being  tagged  and  praised  for  her  work  .  all  of  natascha’s  hard  work  paid  off  as  she  was  soon  being  invited  to  sit  front  row  during  fashion  month  ,  (  and  because i’m  obsessed  with  those  pictures  )  ,  she  was  invited  to  be  the  face  of  miu  miu  !  

currently  ,  natascha  has  her  showroom  in  the  city  ,  where  she  works  primarily  on  personal  styling  ,  but  she  still  styles  for  certain  fashion  shows  and  magazines  .  she’s  worked  with  various  brands  in  the  past  (  and  because  i  love  me  some  badgalriri  )  and  now  she  works  as  a  stylist  with  fenty  !

temperament  .

very  outspoken  and  she  wants  to  be  in  your  business  !  likes  to  gossip  ,  but  doesn’t  really  care  to  know  all  of  your  business  .  generally  ,  she’s  really  chatty  .  she’s  the  kind  of  woman  who  knows  better  than  to  tote  people’s  business  if  they’re  only  sharing  it  with  her  .

can  be  quite  dignified  in  the  sense  that  she  can  sometimes  carry  herself  with  her  nose  in  the  air  ,  but  she’s  not  super  snooty  by  any  means  .  she  carries  herself  as  such  because  in  her  career  ,  it’s  all  about  what  and  who  you  know  .  

she  can  be  quite  dramatic  at  times  and  sometimes  she  doesn’t  even  notice  that  she’s  doing  it  .  sometimes  she  complains  a  lot  and  can  sound  really  bratty  at  times  ,  but  that’s  just  how  she  is  .  overall  ,  though  ,  she’s  very  fun - loving  and  always  looking  to  have  a  good  time  .  natascha  and  drama  DO  NOT  mix  ,  but  she’s  not  going  to  pretend  like  she  doesn’t  have  any  /  hasn’t  had  any  in  her  life  .  

headcanons  .

natascha  grew  up  in  a  slightly  unconventional  home  ,  and  that’s  stuck  with  her  even  until  now  !  she  may  live  in  the  city  ,  but  she’s  always  looking  for  that  laidback  flair  that  ojai  is  known  for  .  her  apartment  is  littered  with  greenery  ,  and  it’s  not  unheard  of  for  her  to  whip  out  a  yoga  mat  from  behind  the  couch  .  

she’s  very  into  her  home  being  her  relaxed  space  ,  and  she  specifically  likes  to  keep  her  home  and  work  life  separate  .  her  showroom  is  very  colorful  and  loud  because  of  all  of  the  colors  and  the  clothes  everywhere  ,  but  her  apartment  is  full  of  earthy  tones  and  really  a  place  of  comfort  .

her  love  language  is  cooking  meals  together  and  remembering  what  she  may  have  told  you  !  as  aforementioned  ,  she’s  very  much  a  chatty  kathy  so  if  you  remember  what  she’s  told  you  in  the  middle  of  her  ramblings  then  she’ll  love  you  forever  .

designer  lover  from  head  to  toe  !  although  i  will  say  that  she  likes  her  lower  end  pieces  as  well  .  definitely  known  for  pairing  inexpensive  jeans  with  thousand  dollar  boots  and  things  of  the  sort  .  to  her  ,  it’s  all  about  looking  good  at  the  end  of  the  day  .

most  comfortable  in  her  apartment  where  she  can  let  her  hair  down  and  she  doesn’t  have  to  wear  pants  !  come  to  her  house  when  she’s  done  with  work  and  chances  are  she’s  wearing  her  pajamas  and  trying  out  of  the  mountains  of  makeup  that  she’s  been  sent  .  so  ,  don’t  be  surprised  if  she  answers  the  door  taking  off  a  deep  berry  lipstick  or  shimmering  eyeshadow  .

[supervillanelle]

I WANT U TO ANSWER QUESTIONS 14 THROUGH 50 FOR THAT ASK THING, OR IF THATS TOO INSANE A NUMBER JUST PICK SOME RANDOM ONES, IDK BUT I LIKE READING YOUR ANSWERS SO IF U DID ALL OF THEM I'D THINK THAT WAS GREAT anyway idk why im yelling now get 2 work

ALLISON WTF?????????????????? THATS 37 QUESTIONS IM LAUGHING SO FICKING HARD FGKSHSDUDUFUDUFIFKGIGIFIFUCUAGSGDHFJFIFJDJSJSUSJIVJCIHXHOXHCHXIGXYSYYDJFLKFDKFAKFAKGZZG IM GONNA DO IT HANG ON

(It was supposed to be 37 questions but i skipped the ones i had already answered, okay?)

16. Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)?

Not at all 😩 i have no talents, babe

18. What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in astrology?

im a leo, and i dont believe in astrology, but sometimes i can relate to my sign

19. Favorite old film?

Old films are really not my thing BUT i really like scary movie 1 and 2, and the exorcist (those were the only old movies i could think of im sorry shakshskshsj)

20. What’s your hairstyle?

ugh okay its curly and brown and very short and it needs to be stopped

21. What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion?

I really like when its sunny with clear skies but like, its not awfully hot, its just, nice

22. What upsets you most about the world?

Lots of things upset me, but two things upset me the most: how much prejudice there is, and how unfair the world is!!!

Like, sexism, homophobia, racism, thats so fucked up and some people actually agree with it??? lik what the fuck? how can you hate someone just for being different than you? and sexism is just so bad bc we’re so used to it that we accept all kinds of stuff bc its just normalized to us, you know? We accept men acting like shit and we agree with them and support their behaviour bc we learn that way, that men can be shitty and they dont have to try to be better people, but we’re so quick to judge women for literally anything they do, and it just keeps being normal to us!! we need to fucking change the way we act!!!

And with how unfair the world is, like, some people have so much while some have so little! its so fucked up!!!! and believe me, i know its not my place to say this bc im fucking privileged but its just so fucked up!!!!!! people like me who were born in a family with money just go through life so easily, we dont know shit anything and we still have the nerve to think we’re bettee than others, its so fucked up!!! And there are people who were born with no money, with no decent family, and just bc of that its allowed for them to live like shit? to not have any kind of support in life? if they need food, housing, medical care, they just have to deal with it and be strong and get through it, or start working as a fucking child?????? its just so fucked up but its never gonna change bc the people who really have money just dont wanna give up a tiny bit of their huge privilege to make it fair for everyone else, and everyone just have to be ok with all that???

23. Are you in love right now?

God no

24. Do you have a crush? If so, talk about them!

I have a lot of crushes GSKSBSKSBSKSBSK i have online crushes, i have real life crushes, i have crushes that mean nothing to me and i just like them so im not bored shakshjs BUT theres this girl, shes kinda bi? (that what she says), shes my friends sister and fuck i just wanna make out with her for 3 days nonstop, shes just so fucking pretty, and funny and hot and nice and smart and fuckkkkkkk im lonely

26. Do you have a lucky number?

Not lucky numbers but like, just numbers that i like, 5, 7, 12 and 15

27. Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash?

On a fallen eyelash yes but its not something i do all the time lol

28. Do you believe emoji spells to work?

What the fuck are emoji spells?

29. Do you believe in magic in general?

Dude shakshskssh no!!!!!

30. What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion?

I dont know dude, i think freedom is pretty beautiful to me, having the freedom to do what you want, loving who you want, being loved, being happy with yourself without any pressure idk if that makes sense

31. Opinion on the color pink? What about baby blue?

I love both!!!!!!! Literally my thing

32. What instrumental sound is your favorite?

I love saxophone and violin!!

33. Do you like the sound of wind? What about the sound of rain?

Wind not so much, its kinda scary tbh, but the sound of rain is just great!!!

36. Imagine your ideal life, the life you wish to make, what will that look like?

Ok so i have like, two different thoughts, i either live in a small apartment, in a big city, im not good with living with other people but i hope this changes, so eithwr alone or with a roomate is fine by me, with a cat and/or a dog, and im happy with my life! Or, if i end up being super rich, i live in a big house, again by muself ot with roomates is fine, and i have way more than just a dog and/or a cat, and a big pool, and im happy with my life (tbh just picture jenna marbles’ life and its that!!

37. Do you wear makeup? If so what’s your favorite type of makeup or specific makeup product? Favorite store to buy makeup?

only when i go to some party or bar and i wanna make out with someone, otherwise i never use it, and i dont even have make up, i use my sister’s or my mom’s

38. Do you wear dresses? If so what’s your favorite dress you own?

I do!!! I cant really explain but like, its above the knee, no sleeves but like a thin strap? and its dark blue with little green zebras all over it

39. Ever been heartbroken? How do you deal with it?

Romantically or in a friendship? Yes for both. I just stay sad forever, but it just gets less shitty with time

40. Who’s your closest friend? What do you love about them?

In real life its this girl from college but rn shes actually mad at me so idk if shes still close to me lol but shes so nice and funny

41. Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert that becomes too much and bery annoying after you get to know

42. Do you like MBTI? What’s your MBTI?

I have NO IDEA what mbti is

43. Would you be a fairy, a mermaid, a vampire, a siren, a or an angel?

I think id be a vampire

44. What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you?

ive been thinking about this for a while now and i cant remember the last time someone showed me a song

45. Parlez-vous français?

No (thats no in french btw)

46. Most beautiful place you’ve been to?

London and nyc are fucking amazing

47. Where/when do you truly feel at home?

When im home alone in silence ugh amazing

48. Does smiling put you in a better mood? Try it right now, you’re smile is goreous!

Not really? Im good but thanks?

49. Favorite shoe you own?

All my flipflops, my converse and thats it

50. Can you walk in stilettos? Do you like them?

I can and i actually love wearing heels i think my legs look great on them

[swinterr]

Valerie I

It all started last week, when Shawn dropped the teaser normally Valerie is a very supportive girlfriend but not on this one. He was filming his music video, Valerie is spending time with her family. Finally, the day when the music video drops, Valerie didn’t watched it even the teaser.

Social Media is Social Media some people can call it their safe place but she doesn’t for her, Social Media is a platform where you see what you don’t want to see. For her, Social Media is toxic everywhere you go it reeks negativity well some may had some positive energy with their post but not all, not all. She saw some pictures that she didn’t want to see.

Valerie remembers the day when Shawn told her that he and Camila are collaborating again, His eyes has this twinkling effect that only happened when he’s happy, well he is happy very happy indeed. Valerie congratulated Shawn on his new music video on how the editing looks so good even though she didn’t watched it how Shawn and Camila looked good together, everything she complemented. Days passed Shawn is back touring and Valerie is back at Massachusetts collecting some of her things on her dorm to take home.

Shawn is very busy touring, he enjoys singing, playing guitar, hanging out with his best friends Brian and Connor. Valerie is back home in Toronto with her family. She enjoys reading books, playing archery on their yard and boxing.

Finally it happened while Valerie is getting ready for their like family-reunion-party-for-4th-of-July a picture went viral on the internet.

Valerie is out with her family when she saw the pictures but on particular picture caught her eye, she is sitting on the couch next to her sister Viviane and his husband Seth. Vernon, his brother along with his wife Jess, Vernon talking about his son Milo and Laslo (who are playing with the table designs) with their cousin Andre and Viviane is holding is baby boy named Cupid. The Valentin’s are hosting a party in their hotel in Toronto. She is scrolling down her feed in Instagram, of course being a supportive girlfriend she follows #shawnmendes

Shawn and Camila are kissing, Valerie isn’t really the type of person who will just point out something wrong, she always gathers her information before speaking. Sometimes she will answer your question with a hum as, she hums she thinks about her words she will put in the sentences, she always makes sure she will use it in a good way she also try not to offend someone.

She has enough information with all the pictures she’s been tag in the video and clips of them, she had enough. She puts her phone down the marble table.

“Viv.” She spoked softly. Valerie has a sweet, soft, light and airy voice even if she’s mad or sad she never raises her voice.

Viviane noticed something in her voice she may have a soft voice but she sounds so fragile right now. “Yes Val, something wrong?”

Vernon and Andre stopped talking, all their attention is on Valerie. Even the kids.

Valerie looks so fragile her tired watery eyes glancing up at her sister as she tugs at her sleeves on her off shoulder long sleeved Dolce & Gabanna cotton blend dress, fighting back the tears, she tries to blink faster hoping it will dry but heavy tears started flowing down her rosy cheeks.

“Can I skip the party, I think my febrile response is kicking in again.”

Andre glances at Valerie’s phone. “Oh no.” he gasped. Valerie quickly took her phone back to her clutch.

“Please, I need some time alone.” Valerie didn’t wait for their answer as she walks towards her parent explaining her febrile response which literally just mean fever.

Little does she knows the group of five started talking about the said issue.

She also didn’t wait for her parents response she walked straight to the front door, not minding the paparazzi taking a picture of her crying. Her chauffeur is holding the car door for her.

She got into the car she closes her eyes, taking deep breaths in an effort to stop never ending flow of tears. She didn’t even wait to be home, she needs to talk to Shawn ASAP. She opened her Marc Jacob clutch and took her phone out.

“Hello?” Valerie’s hoarse voice spoke through the phone, she has been crying since the pictures had come out. Nonstop tears keeps on spilling in her $2,600 worth of dress she wore.

She keeps on calling him but no answer, Shawn wasted their 3 years together and she’s not gonna waste more again no answer so she just decided to text him a message.

To: my canada 💞

Hey shawn are you there? I’ve been calling you the last 15 minutes? Are you good? i’m not gonna kept this message long. What happened to us? Did I do something wrong? I though im forever? Were forever? You know what, why did you tell me that you don’t want me anymore, its much easier than you doing this? You said that you’re just friends but I had enough. I can’t be with someone who has allegedly been dating his best friend behind my back. You said this song could be a hit, I believed in you. I hope you’re happy this is the last time that I will tell you this I love you. I love you too much to let go but this is the right thing to do. Focus on things that will make you happy and successful. xoxo

That week has been really painful to Valerie she thought all the things she should have accomplished if she wasn’t with him. She could have graduate, Shawn recently finished his tour in Europe of couse they will go to Italy as one of the places they set and Valerie has an Italian blood loved that country so much that Shawn begged Andrew to take Valerie on tour with him. Sadly, Valerie has to take online classes but it’s okay as long as she is with Shawn.

People in the internet has been taging Valerie a lot, a picture of Shawn and Camila at a diner a 4 ‘o’clock in the morning, him picking her up on her acting lessons. Basically doing what couples are supposedly doing. Shawn isn’t that open and that sweet when they were together. They looks so good.

Valerie remebers that she send Shawn a messege last week, and clearly Shawn is so busy with his lifestyle he didn’t even read it! That week was horrible, Valerie and Shawn lived in the same condo in Toronto and she practically lived in their house in Pickering.

Too bad Shawn fucked the 3 years up. Maybe it’s time for a break. So she packed her bag and zoomed off to the airport on the way to her birth land, basically soul searching. Hoping that at least she will have a good time.

Valerie and Shawn has a bucket list together, they didn’t even finished it. Actually Valerie knew that they aren’t gonna last forever, its either she And Shawn will broke up because of long distance or Shawn being bored at Valerie or Shawn finding someone new in tour, well technically he didn’t find new he just reunited with her.

Shawn’s definition of love is love isn’t something you should chase because then it isn’t real you just kinda let it happend and that exactly what happened to them.

Maybe that’s the reason.

Valerie then made a new bucket list for her to complete.

1. Buy myself a new mansion in Los Angles and sell my old one and donate the money

2. Ride an helicopter

3. Buy an island

4. Study hard! Even if it’s summer

5. LOVE YOURSELF

She didn’t feel making a long one, she will just add something of she want.

Valerie should have graduated college but then she was too focused on Shawn, good thing she didn’t have bad grades. So she shall study and make up for the time she lost.

Turns out Valerie needs to be in LA with her family for a grand opening of their new hotel, maybe she will travel next time, she already contacted her friend Bella Hadid, Bella’s father and her father are friends. Bella knew what Valerie is feeling, I mean the pictures are all over internet, so Bella invited her girlfriends and hoped that Valerie will have a good time.

the real angst is on the next part. also sorry if i disappointed someone in my writing.

[cryptid-bloodhound]

can i just have some fluffy gibby and octane??? that's all i need in my life tbh

IM LATE BUT I GOTCHU FAM!

Thoughts Like Thorns

Ao3

Octavio was bored again. When he was bored, bad things tended to happen. He didn’t mean to cause so much havoc, honest! Well, most of the time he didn’t mean it. All that destruction and chaos was simply a byproduct of his endless hunt for his next adrenaline rush. He really couldn’t help it. That desire to do something - anything - was almost pervasive. It was a gnawing, clawing need that guided his day-to-day life. When he sat idle for just a moment too long, that feeling would well up inside of him again, like nails down his spine. If he didn’t know any better, he’d compare the uncomfortable sensation to anxiousness. It was like something inside of him telling him to ‘ go go go!’ and not doing that was something really quite awful.

Those quiet moments between drops when there was nowhere for him to run and video games just weren’t cutting it was horrible. He’d bounce in place, jump around, and use his fellow Legends as makeshift springboards. Anything to alleviate that need. For the most part, the others tolerated his constant frenetic energy. Sometimes, if the mood was bright enough, they’d join in on his reckless little games. It usually wasn’t a problem for the adrenaline junkie. Hell, he loved the rush so chasing these little highs was awesome! But, there were moments when it was all a little too much. When his attention felt like it was being ripped in every direction and his mind buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. When nothing could satisfy that need of his. It seemed like today was one of those unlucky days.

He was pacing back and forth in the complex, muttering under his breath rapidly as if he could chase away this feeling through cursing alone. His hands flexed, clenched, and beat an uneven tempo against his thighs as he moved on an endless loop. Sometimes he felt like clawing at himself because surely that would feel better than whatever this sensation was crawling under his skin, but he refrained. The last time he did, Ajay scolded him and gave him that ‘I’m-unhappy-but-also-worried’ look he’s so familiar with. He tried playing games but nothing would hold his attention or quell that buzzing. He tried hanging out with the others but found himself too...raw to handle them right now. This uneasy restlessness was killing him.

“Ughh, estoy a punto de enloquecer!”

Octavio was so engrossed in his own static-filled mind that he didn’t notice the rather large figure walking through the door. Really, it should be a feat all on its own to have Makoa Gibraltar of all people sneak up on you. The giant of a man wasn’t the type to sneak around. So, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, the borderline shriek that left his lips was all the more embarrassing. Gibraltar looked torn between amused and mildly worried. That expression made Octavio want to shrug the hand off of his shoulder and bolt for the door.

“You alright there, bruddah?”

It was a simple question. It should have been easy to answer. Should . But the nonstop racing thoughts and aching in his nerves told him otherwise.

“Yes. No. Yes! ...Maybe. UGH, I don’t know!”

His hands went from tapping his thighs to gripping at his hair as he fought himself for a moment of respite. After seeing the almost volatile reaction to his touch earlier, Makoa resisted the urge to lay a reassuring hand on the younger Legend. It wasn’t often that Octavio had a bad day like this but it happened just enough for Makoa to recognize the signs. After a moment of thought, Gibraltar shifted his presence, expression dropping from openly worried to casual friendliness. That same sort of warmth colored over the darker tones of his voice. He didn’t want Octavio focusing on the bad - especially if it was thanks to the way he was acting.

“Hey, I seen you’re pretty good at art, yeah?”

The question was so unexpected and lax that it actually threw Octavio for a bit of a loop. His grip loosened and he squinted in slight confusion at Makoa. When he spoke, his answer was drawn out and pitched as if it was a question.

“...Yes?”

That seemed to brighten up Makoa’s disposition immediately. He gave one of his famous thousand-watt grins and threw open his arms in a grand gesture.

“Perfect! I got a cake here that needs some serious decoratin’ and you’re just the guy for the job!”

There wasn’t a singular part of this shift in conversation that didn’t confuse Octavio. Granted there were a great many things that did confuse him. In his defense, however, he rarely bothered enough to pay attention to, well, anything really. So, he just let his arms drop back to his sides as bewilderment overtook his features. Seeing the shift, Makoa kept on going. Anything to keep him distracted was good in his books. As he spoke, he subtly herded Octavio toward the kitchen area where a tasty but objectively plain cake sat. Next to it was a slew of decoration tools and what looked like a rough image of what Gibraltar wanted on it. It was pretty, certainly something he could imagine giving to a significant other if he were feeling romantic. But his way of drawing was a bit more, ah, stylized than what was pictured. As he started imagining what it’d look like in his own design, Makoa continued on.

“It’s my anniversary soon and I wanted to do somethin’ nice. I made a cake but I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. Figured I’d ask ya for help, shortstack. We can work on it togetha ‘n you could tell me what’s botherin’ ya.”

At the reminded of his earlier unending nerves, Octavio frowned. Without meaning to he started bouncing back and forth on his feet as that prickling sensation started taking over his attention once more. Without wasting a second, Makoa barreled on as if nothing changed.

“Or, I could tell ya about that time I stole my dad’s motorcycle to go on a joyride with my boyfriend.”

Again, the switch up blindsided the younger Legend. The mental image of The Gibraltar doing something so reckless and immature as stealing his dad’s motorcycle absolutely floored Octavio. His jaw dropped and that jittery discomfort was replaced with a sort of giddiness. That sounded like something he would do and not the unofficial Team Dad.  

“No. Way.”

“Way.”

There was a smug sort of smile pulling wide at Gibraltar’s lips as Octavio stared at him with wide eyes. He figured if there was a story to draw him out of a bad spot, it’d be a crazy one he could relate to. The air was filled with the rapid little ‘tinks’ of his feet as he danced in place with all that pent up energy he was so well-known for. He wanted to hear more about this crazy tale. It was drawing his mind away from all those sharp, intangible edges he could never figure out.

“Let’s do it!”

And so they did. They set up their impromptu cake station as Makoa spoke about the shenanigans he managed to get himself into in his wilder days. Of course, he left out the darker parts. No need to drag the kid back down. It warmed something in his heart to see Octavio calming down. His mind was distracted by the story and attention needed to detail the cake while his hands were busy drawing out lines of frosting. It was engaging enough to keep him entertained without being self-destructive (or any kind of destructive, which was a step up). So, when that story ended, Makoa conjured another, and then another, and another. However many it took until that frantic tension melted away from Octavio.

“So, when ya gonna pop the question amigo? Time ain’t waitin’ for any of us! We won’t stay this young and good lookin’ forever. Well, you won’t. I’ll always be this gorgeous. ”

It was Makoa’s turn to be surprised at the unexpected words. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the cocky, over-the-top attitude, or maybe it was just the irony that the usually oblivious one here hit the nail on the head. Whatever the case, Makoa let out a deep belly laugh and clapped Octavio on the shoulder. The force behind the gesture was still enough to cause the much smaller man to jolt forward.

“Ha! Keep it up, shortstack. I’ll remember that next time we’re on a team and the enemies are lookin’ for a punchin’ bag.”

Rather than respond verbally, Octavio just stuck his tongue out and gave a rather colorful hand gesture. Though the way his lips turned up at the corners in a grin spoke volumes of his current bright mood. After a moment, Makoa sighed in a way that Octavio could have sworn would be considered ‘dreamily’. He did very little to hide the amused snort at the action. ‘What a big softy.’

“To tell ya the truth, I been thinkin’ ‘bout it. I wanna do it soon. Hey, how’d you like to come ‘n help me pick out a ring, huh?”

The invitation was a surprise. Seems like today was full of those - mostly good, at least. It made Octavio smile wider than he has in a long time. Again, he couldn’t help but do an excited little jig in place, prompting Makoa to laugh at his antics once more.

“Hells yeah!”

His brain was already rushing ten thousand miles a minute picturing all sorts of expensive and fantastical bands. That led to him also picturing crazy wedding ideas and - ‘Oh! Wonder if I’ll get to be a groomsman!’ His colorful and exciting daydreams were interrupted by Makoa as he peered over his shoulder at the cake and spoke up.

“This looks great, Octavio, but uh...you spelled his name wrong.”

Sure enough, when he looked at the wonderfully decorated (in his humble opinion) cake, he had forgotten a letter in Makoa’s boyfriend’s name. With a groan, he slapped a hand to his forehead and accidentally smeared icing on his face.

“Mierda.”

[porscheczar110]

Rayllum Narcos AU Part 3

Part three of the Narcos Modern AU! Apartment living, sickness, and Rayla being protective.

Read on AO3 here!

11. Of Moonshadow

For the umpteenth time in the past few months, Callum found himself crumpling up pieces of paper detailing his untimely demise. There was always something about La Sombra de Luna . As if he even knew what any of those words meant. And he wasn’t about to ask his dad or Rayla.

If Rayla knew someone was after him, she’d go around on a rampage until the perpetrator was dealt with. If his dad knew… Well, he wasn’t actually sure what would happen if his dad knew he was being targeted because of his associations. And he didn’t want to find out.

He shrugged as he tossed the crumpled words into his backseat. He’d worry about it later. He had a big exam coming up. If someone were to take him out right now, he wasn’t exactly sure it would be a bad thing. This test was scary, and if he were dead, he wouldn’t really have to worry about any more tests.

It was a nice thought.

And so the paper pile in his backseat grew. Once he was done with his test, he figured he’d go back and clean out his car. As soon as his radio was turned on, all worries about the threats disappeared. Besides, whoever was trying to terrorize him would’ve done something by now. Why wait for so long? It’s not like he was getting any younger.

Soon enough, he was pulling into the parking lot of one of the malls. He’d offered to pick Rayla up so they could go study and eat after she did something at the mall. He’d wanted to inquire. However, the look on her face told him he’d get a horribly vague answer that would leave him more curious and annoyed than if he hadn’t asked at all.

She opened the backseat door to drop off her backpack. “Hey,” she greeted warmly, and Callum felt his insides flutter.

She was the best.

He began to list places they could eat, study, or both. He was terrible at making eatery decisions, or decisions of any kind in general, so he usually left it up to Rayla. He waited expectantly for her to respond, but at the extensive silence, he glanced back. The papers were unfurled, and she clutched a few in her hands.

“Uh, Ray?” he asked tentatively.

Her head jerked up, amethyst eyes boring into his soul it seemed. There was a sort of fury burning in them, and he knew some of it was aimed at him. “You have had threats on your life for what looks like months , and you didn’t bother to tell anyone ?”

Wow, he didn’t like that tone.

“I have a major test coming up?” he tried, realizing how weak it sounded to his own ears.

“ Months , Callum,” she snapped, aggressively collecting all the litter. “And if I don’t know, then I’m sure as hell that no one else does. And that is no bueno , dude.”

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly. “ No bueno. Not good. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Every second you—” She cut herself off with a sound of disgust. “Forget it. I’m not wasting my breath. Take me to your father.”

The words sent chills through him. “No, no . Not my dad. He’s going to have a fit.” He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but her stoic expression indicated he had failed miserably.

“Do you think I give a shit about that right now? We’re going.” She slammed the back door and marched over to his driver’s side. She then yanked open his door and opened an arm, waiting for him to get out. He had half the mind to resist, but why? He would just do as she asked anyways. So, with feet dragging and much pouting, he found himself in front of his estate.

“I’m going to talk to Harrow. You do what you want.”

She grabbed the handle to get out, and Callum stopped her. “ El Rey and La Sombra de Luna . What are they? The papers keep mentioning them.”

She pursed her lips, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “The King and the Moonshadow.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know the called my dad the King. Always wondered, but I guess it makes sense? So, then what’s the other thing?”

“Not what. Who. Me.”

“They call you Moonshadow?”

“Yes.” The answer was curt, unlike his usual Rayla. When he glanced over at her, her knuckles were white, wrapped around the steering wheel instead of thumping on it like earlier.

“You know I’m going to ask why.”

“I work at night. Move like a shadow. It’s not very original.” The twist in her lips made him think otherwise, but it was a good enough answer.

At least for now.

“Now let’s go talk to your dad. Maybe you’ll listen to his hissy fit.”

“To be fair,” Callum pointed out, “You didn’t really throw a fit.”

She slouched slightly and sighed. “If I threw a fit every time you did something stupid, it would be my eternal state of being.”

“True,” he nodded. In a weird way, he enjoyed it when she flipped her lid.

Because it meant she, big bad sicario and all, cared.

12. Of Germaphobe

Callum was tired. Tired to his bones . He couldn’t scrub any harder if he tried. He collapsed onto the tile of Rayla’s bathroom, groaning. Eventually, she appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips and slightly frowning.

“What are you whining about now?”

“Look, I get that you like things clean. But bleaching down everything in the damned apartment is a little excessive. I love you and your germaphobe tendencies to death, but I don’t actually want to die anytime soon. And I especially don’t want to die with the smell of bleach and Fabuloso cleaner haunting me.”

“And now he thinks I’m a germaphobe,” she murmured to herself in disbelief.

“I don’t think . I know . I’ve seen the way you obsess over your car! I’ve literally seen you tear out and replace the carpet because of soda stains. You’re always cleaning the handles from the doors and seatbelts and the trunk. I appreciate your cleanliness. No,” he said as she opened her mouth, “No, I really do. But come on .”

“Cal—”

“And!” he added, getting fired up, “You and your showers . When you move in, you have to help me pay the water bill, Ray.”

“Wait, you want me to move in with you?”

The burning from Callum’s blushing was soothed by the tile he was still sprawled on. “I—Uh, yes. I was going to ask you soon. This is not how I pictured it.”

She raised an eyebrow and her smirk blossomed into a blinding smile. “It’s a very ‘you’ thing to do.” She squatted and wrapped her hand around his ankle. The place of contact felt like it was on fire, and he realized there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his assassin.

A scary thought, but something about the way her eyes were boring into his own made him think she felt the same way.

“But back to the matter at hand before I get sidetracked by you. Showers.”

She leaned over the tub and turned the knob on. It was then that Callum noticed red pouring down the drain. “I’m not a germaphobe,” she laughed.

“No, of course, you aren’t. You’re a sicario ,” he surmised with a nod of his head. “And sicarios can get kind of messy, huh?”

Now it made sense. She wasn’t a germaphobe, but no one liked walking around bloody and dirty from their most recent hit.

He could get behind that.

Still didn’t mean he’d be paying for the water bill.

13. Texts

Callum was not a jealous person. He had his flaws, but jealousy was not one of them. Rayla liked to joke it was because he had been given everything he wanted, and more, throughout his lifetime. But that was bound to be his life when Harrow was the El Chapo of Katolis. Although, when Callum had said as much to Ray, she’d laughed in his face.

“Nah,” she said thoughtfully, “Harrow is bigger than that. They don’t call him El Rey for nothing. ”

He had to admit ‘King Harrow’ had a great ring to it. In another lifetime, Callum had the sense that his stepfather had been a ruler of sorts. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, the things he said. His dad was an old soul.

Another buzzing came from Rayla’s phone, and Callum snapped back to the present.

Ah, yes. He wasn’t jealous or suspicious. But one couldn’t blame his annoyance by the nonstop buzzing and beeping and calls and video calls and DMs and IMs and PMs and—

Another buzz.

Callum approached the table to get his drink, tempted to flip her phone over so the constantly lit screen and blinking light at the corner would stop bugging him. As his hands wrapped around the cool glass of his cup, her phone went off again. He couldn’t help reading the name that flickered across the screen, but he didn’t bother with the message. He could care less.

Runaan .

It was always this Runaan guy. And if it wasn’t him, then it was Star Boy or Tinker. And it was always nonstop. How did Rayla put up with this? Was she being harassed? Did he need to lay down the law?

He laughed at the thought. She could take care of herself better than anyone. If it bothered her, it wouldn’t be bothering her anymore because she would’ve already dealt with it. Honestly, she’d have dealt with problems Callum had before he even realized they were problems.

His sigh was dreamy at the thought of her.

And then another ping .

Rayla returned, two bowls of cereal and some blueberries cradled in her arms. She placed them down on the table and grabbed her phone, grimacing at the notifications on her screen. Her exhale was so forceful, he felt it.

“Everything okay?” he tried.

She looked at him and nodded slowly. “it’s nothing new. It never is.”

“Look, I’m not jealous—”

A smile began creeping across her face. “Isn’t that what a jealous person would say?”

“Ray! No, stop. Focus.”

“Are you telling me to focus or yourself?”

Were the tips of his ears on fire? They definitely felt like they were. “I just was wondering who they were. Out of curiosity. Because I’m curious, you know?”

“Uh huh. If that’s what you want to call it, Lover Boy.”

He stuck his bottom lip out in annoyance. She was so cute. “Damnit, you could get away with murder,” he muttered.

“I do, but go off I guess.”

Oh, yeah. All the assassin business.

“Wait, stop distracting me.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded in resignation. “Runaan and Tinker are my superiors and very married. I would say it’s cute, but I barely have the stomach for our PDA, much less anyone else's.”

He laughed, “Yeah right. You’re a big softie. You cried when I brought you one of Zym’s babies.”

“She is so cute! And you cried, too,” Ray reminded him smugly.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. So Runaan and Tinker. Then Star Boy?”

“Oof,” she huffed, rubbing her chest. “That would be Aaravos.”

When she said nothing more, Callum waved a hand. “And?”

“Nope, that’s all I’ve got,” she shrugged.

“That’s… vague?”

“I know,” she cringed. “But I really have no idea what he is. He’s like a famous ghost or something. Kind of like La Llorona . You know about her, and you hear all sorts of stories. But you don’t really know the truth. Stories is all she is. And stories is all Aaravos is.”

“Okay, you do realize I have no idea who La Llorona is, right?”

She pursed her lips, nodding slowly. “You’re the worst sometimes. La Llorona was a woman who, under varying circumstances, drowned her two children. Cursed for eternity until she finds their bodies, she wanders around crying. That’s what La Llorona literally translates to. The crying woman.”

“Oof,” Callum breathed, shaking his head.

“ Omega oof,” Rayla corrected.

“On that note, can we go out to get froyo?” He was already moving towards the key holder. Froyo made everything better, and he knew Ray felt the same.

“Well, is your VSA on?”

Callum groaned, locking the door behind him. “Really? I do that one time…”

“One time is all it takes. So. Froyo and authentic drag racing?”

He tipped an invisible hat her way. “Name a more iconic duo.”

“Uh, us . Duh.”

He smiled, linking his hand with hers. “Silly me. How could I forget?”

“Also, I would rather drive.”

He was nodding vigorously before she even finished the sentence. “I would much rather you drive, too. Drag racing or not.”

14. Champion sewing

Callum decided he was getting used to living with Rayla. Yes, there were still excessive showers and obnoxious cleanliness, but it was nice having someone there. Actually, it wasn’t nice having someone there. It was nice having Rayla there. Anyone else, and the living arrangement would’ve been a bust. Some days, he couldn’t even believe she’d said yes.

He really was the luckiest man alive. And probably one of the luckiest men in general. Ever.

Given her line of work, she was surprisingly quiet to live with as well. He appreciated that. Sleep was such a sweet and sacred thing to him, and she knew it. Her late nights were his early mornings. Yet, between the two of them, it worked.

“Cal? Cal?”

He mumbled and snuggled deeper into his pillow.

“Callum. Callum .”

“ Fack ,” he cursed, shooting up straight. He lashed out with a barely made fist, unsure of how he was going to fend off robbers.

The infiltrator caught his wrist with a small grunt. “It’s me, Lover Boy,” Rayla said softly.

“What time is it?” Callum grumbled. He went to rub at his eyes, but she had already wiped some of the crusties from the corner of his eye. “Thanks,” he said, interrupted by a yawn.

“I need some help,” she said with a wince.

He wished he was immediately alert and ready for action, but that would be a lie. All he could think to say was, “What freaking time is it?”

Her laugh was low and shy. “A little bit past four?”

“AM?” he deadpanned, barely convincing himself to sit up.

“Yes? As opposed to PM?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the one that woke me up,” he accused. “You don’t get sassing privileges.”

“Sure, sure.” The way she said it wasn’t too reassuring, but he wasn’t about to push the point further.

“Okay, what’s so important that you had to wake me up? Is it another spider? I know how much those freak you out.” Last time she spotted a wolf spider, she screamed so loudly the neighbors called the police. Imagine explaining to them that the big, bad sicario was deathly afraid of spiders. What a night that had been.

“ No ,” she said, and he could see the beginnings of an embarrassed blush. Dang, that was one of his favorites. Embarrassed Rayla, one of the best Raylas. “You did some sewing in high school, right?”

“Actually, I knitted. Won an award for best design. It was a dragon—”

“Okay, that’s great, dear. But not now. You can show it to me later. And stop staring at me like that. I’m not going to stop talking anytime soon.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, covering his eyes against the flood of light. “End me.”

“Shush, you big baby. Now, into the bathroom. Come along.” She dragged him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet cover. She watched him carefully as she removed his jacket. His eyes immediately caught the still growing bloodstain on her abdomen. The world tilted a little bit, and bile rose.

“Oh no,” he mumbled, covering his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still squeamish around blood.”

He was afraid if he opened his mouth to respond, he would release the contents of his stomach all over her. Something told him that would help neither of their moods. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Callum, love, look at me. I need your help. Those asshats hit my sewing hand, so I feel like I have four fingers right now. I can’t patch myself up, and we need to stop the bleeding before I go into shock. You’re all I’ve got.”

He focused on staring at her face, tracing the planes as best he could. He gave her a dopey, barely-there smile. She was such a sweetheart. Dangit if she didn’t steal his heart anew every now and then. It wasn’t fair. No one should be that magnetic.

She swayed a bit, and he was brought back to reality. “No, I-I—”

“ Please . It’s time to put those knitting skills to good use!” She was strangely optimistic. Given he’d just woken up, her odd cheerfulness made his head hurt.

“Hell no. It’s not happening. I’m calling Claudia. She’s a med student. She’ll know what to do.” Panic was starting to settle.

“She’ll have questions. What are we supposed to say?”

“That you’re a sicario, and your hit today went a little rough. Honesty is the best policy.”

“I can’t believe you,” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay, then you’re terrified of hospitals.”

“No, I’m not? I thought you just said honesty—”

“ Claudia doesn’t need to know that. You’re deathly afraid of hospitals, and we got mugged. So, instead of going to one and freaking you the hell out, I called Claudia. Sounds good?”

“Well, why do you look fine?”

Callum ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, we aren’t the ones that got mugged. I wasn’t with you. You were out with one of your friends. But they took them to the hospital because they aren’t a big wussy.” He crossed his arms, staring at his feet intently.

Rayla pursed her lips, nodding slowly. “That’s… actually a really good idea?” He heard a squelch as her palm pressed against her side, and he was woozy all over again.

“I’m calling her right now.”

He had to give Claudia credit. She didn’t flinch at the story, the wound, or anything that happened that night, really. Everything got sorted out mostly. And Rayla was alright once the bleeding was stopped and the bullet was out. It was almost nine in the morning by the time the pair fell into their bed. Who knew blackout curtains worked so well? He could see nothing but felt the warm comfort of Rayla.

He knew he was home.

Just as he was about to drift off, a thought struck him. “Oh my God, Rayla?”

“Hm?” she hummed, very near as dead asleep as he wanted to be.

“I could’ve just called the family doctors. We have three that are active at all hours for everything and anything. We even have one for… ‘family business.’ I’m so stupid . How could I forget?”

“Oh geez, Cal. Of course you’d have four doctors on call. Of course you have a doctor for druggie business. And of course you’d forget. But we’ll call them next time.”

“Next time?” He couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice.

“Of… course.” Her breathing slowed, and he knew he’d get nothing more out of her that morning.

Maybe he wasn’t getting as used to living with her as he’d previously thought.

[fitzpatrick64fitzpatrick-blog]

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[chimchimchoo]

Fly Me to the Moon :: Ch 1

Genre: Pure fluff crack

Word Count: 2,510

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Collaborated with @tayvengeance

Chapter: 1

"CHEER UP THIS SAD, EMO BOY!"

02-222-3333

Jimin stared at the note on the bathroom wall for a solid 5 minutes before he pulled out his phone and typed in the number.

authors note: we do not own any of the pictures, for better formatting so it’s more comfortable to read, check it out on AO3! AO3 link:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944508/chapters/34626863 Twitters: Tae’s Sujin’s <3 - Tae & sujin

Chat with Mochi_Moves

2015.11.15

14:00

Mochi_Moves:

Will this make you feel happier?

SUGA:

What the fuck

Who is this?

Mochi_Moves:

That doesn’t matter. Did the picture make you laugh? c:

SUGA:

No what the fuck

I think you have the wrong #

Mochi_Moves:

Aw :c

No, I just found this number and wanted to make you a happy emo boy!

SUGA:

Wait, who are you

How do you know I’m emo

Also it’s not emo

It’s grunge

Fuck you

Mochi_Moves:

But..I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name :c

Just call me Mochi

I’ll be your anonymous friend c:

Why are you a sad grunge boy?

SUGA:

Life is a bitch

That’s why.

Mochi_Moves:

Ohmygod, this poor soul

Who hurt you??????

SUGA:

Like i’m gonna tell a stranger my life story

Mochi_Moves:

But didn’t you know?

It’s easier to tell strangers

Come on c: c: c:

SUGA:

Add another smile to that and I just might strangle you

I’m kidding

But not really

Mochi_Moves:

:c

SUGA:

Now that’s a relatable emotion

Mochi_Moves:

Okay alright

I won’t pressure you

You can tell me tomorrow c:

Instead tell me something happy about yourself!

c:

SUGA:

I have mint hair.

I guess that’s happy?

Idk

Coloured hair makes me happier

Mochi_Moves:

Mint???? Wow!

I’ve never seen anyone with mint hair

That must look so cool *.*

SEND ME A PICTURE

SUGA:

No, what if you’re a predator

I’ve watched Catfish

I know how this shit goes

Mochi_Moves:

But I’m not! Just the hair

Pleeeaaassseee?

c:

SUGA:

Only if you tell me who you are

Mochi_Moves:

How do I know you’re not a predator either?

Maybe you’re the bathroom janitor for all I know

SUGA:

YOU’RE THE ONE WHO KNEW I WAS AN

EMO BOY

YOU MESSAGED ME FIRST

Mochi_Moves:

I just found it in the bathroom and wanted to

cheer up a sad grunge emo boy

SUGA:

Goddammit Hoseok.

He fucking put my number on the

stall wall again, didn’t he

I’m gonna fight him

Last time he did this, I got calls

nonstop

Mochi_Moves:

Hoseok?

JUNG HOSEOK??????

SUGA:

for a week.

Holy shit.

You know my arch nemesis?

Mochi_Moves:

Yeah! I dance with him!

He’s a great friend

Annoying sometimes…

BUt wonderful c:

SUGA:

Holy shit

You’re that Jimin kid he always

talks about

The revered dancer

“God, Yoongi you should see him. The way he moves his body is

the closest humans will get to magic.”

Mochi_Moves:

He really said something like that?? Wow, he’s really pushing it

Hah..

But you exposed yourself,

Nice to meet you Min Yoongi c:

SUGA:

That’s Yoongi HYUNG to you

Well, since I know you’re not going to prey on my gay ass

Mochi_Moves:

Ah, well

Two gay boys can be friends

c:

So don’t worry

I won’t be a gay predator

SUGA:

Fellas,

Is it gay to have gay friends

Mochi_Moves:

Let’s try it and see if it’ll answer your question!

c:

SUGA:

Well, I showed my face.

Your turn, punk.

Mochi_Moves:

I’m not a punk :c

According to Hoseok

I’m a soft mochi

SUGA:

Is that that Taehyung kid

He’s in my art class

I swear to GOD

Loudass motherfucker

But I guess he makes me laugh

Mochi_Moves:

BITCHDV

WATCH WOT U SAY BOU

M E

I KNOW WHE REY

YOU SIT

SUGA:

Holy shit he’s been reading over

your shoulder?

Hey kid, you’re wild. I admire it.

Especially when you got the fire alarm to go off

in the middle of free painting the other day.

Idk how you did it. You didn’t even leave your

seat.

Mochi_Moves:

I hav my ways ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Next time i jasdskjf

Sdfgk

Sorry! Taehyung took my phone

When I left the room

But yes it’s the one and only

We’re roommates

c:

SUGA:

I see. So no hanging at your place.

Haha

I’m just kidding

Not really

But yeah

Mochi_Moves:

Oh, so you do want to

come over sometime then?

Is that what you’re saying?

c: c: c:

SUGA:

I thought we had bonded over being

Hobi’s friend

I thought WE were gay pals

Without it being gay

Mochi_Moves:

Ah, you’re right!

I thought maybe

You already went onto the next base

Im so glad it didn’t turn out like that

My best gay pal c:

Second to Taehyung of course

SUGA:

I mean, you are a handsome fella

But

I don’t uh, date, really.

Mochi_Moves:

Ahhhh, does your love life

have to do with you being a sad emo grunge boy?

A tragic backstory?

SUGA:

A tale for another time.

(like far beyond this time)

Hahaha

Mochi_Moves:

So like

tomorrow?

SUGA:

Someone’s persistent

Why do you wanna know so bad?

Gonna try to fix the depressed grunge boy?

Mochi_Moves:

You’re just an interesting person

Min yoongi

I’ll figure you out c:

SUGA:

That’s hyung to you, brat.

Chat with Mochi_Moves

2015.11.16

02:30

Mochi_Moves:

Did this cheer you up?

c:

He had too much soju last night

SUGA:

You all drank without me

What the fuck

Mochi_Moves:

I’m sorry :c

I’ll invite you next time!

It was a night out for the dance team

But it can just be us the next time

And I’ll bring taehyung

And hoseok

c:

You don’t want to be around the dance team

When they’re drunk

Trust me

SUGA:

I’ll take your word for it.

Mochi_Moves:

But did it cheer you up????

SUGA:

How can I not laugh at his dumb face

Mochi_Moves:

Just don’t tell him

He’ll make me do push ups for days

if he finds out I have this

considering he blacked out

and doesn't remember a thing

heh

SUGA:

I told him you found my number yesterday

He screamed

Then he sent me this:

And asked how gay I was for you

Mochi_Moves:

DELETE THIS NOW

!!!!

SUGA:

No. it brings me joy.

Mochi_Moves:

Yoongi

Whyy

:c

SUGA:

Hey, haven’t you been trying to make me

happy?

It worked.

Mochi_Moves:

That’s true..

My pain is your happiness

c’:

SUGA:

But I told him I wasn’t gay for you

AND THEN

He sent me this:

And said “how about now?”

I just need to know, what was the

occasion?

Mochi_Moves:

Why does hyung still have this

I swear

I’m going to go talk to this..

Brb

He’s in the other room

c:

SUGA:

Tell him I said thank you for our new

Kakao chat background pic

Mochi_Moves:

YOU DIDNT

MIN YOONGI

TELL ME YOU

DIDNT

SUGA:

Mochi_Moves:

That’s..heh

I don’t know what to say to that

Asdfhjkl

That was a performance I did a few years back

For a dance competition

Hoseok hyung begged

I didn’t want to

But i did anyway, it’s hyung

I can’t say no to him

I retired the exposed chest look

So don’t expect another one

C:

Ever

SUGA:

Not to sound gay or anything

But

You have a nice body.

Good job.

Mochi_Moves:

What about you Mint Yoongi?

What do you do?

SUGA:

Write/compose/play music

A lil art here n there

I’m skilled on the piano.

And I have some beats on soundcloud

Mochi_Moves:

Wow! I love a good artist c:

Have you released anything to music companies??

SUGA:

Uh...

Kinda?

Mochi_Moves:

You must be famous! Can I hear some of your work??

SUGA:

I’m about as famous as you.

https://soundcloud.com/bangtan/agustd103

There you go, I guess.

Mochi_Moves:

It sounds amazing!

You’re so talented

One day you could compose a song

For one of my shows???

How cool would that be?!

SUGA:

Woah, take me to dinner first

Mochi_Moves:

So are you asking for a date??

Mint Yoongi

We haven’t even met formally yet…

So fast..

SUGA:

You were the one talking about intimacies

Composing a song for someone is as

intimate as fucking them.

Mochi_Moves:  

Alright alright

Just gay best pals

Who’ve never met

c:

SUGA:

Well are you insinuating that we should get up

get out and go meet somewhere?

Mochi_Moves:

That would be a good start

Besides

Hoseoks been wanting me to meet you for forever now

I just never had the time

Let’s do it for the sake of this poor hyung

SUGA:

It’s a monday morning.

I don’t have class.

We’re getting coffee.

Also

Why is Hobi hyung but you REFUSE TO

CALL ME HYUNG

Mochi_Moves:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Meet me at the campus cafe at 10?

SUGA:

Yeah. Sounds good.

Chat With Mochi_Moves

2015.11.25

13:00

SUGA:

Hey

Heyyy

Heyyyyyyy

Jimin

Ji

Min

Mochi_Moves:

Mint Yoongi?

Hi!

What

What is it?

SUGA:

Did I leave my composition notebook

at your place? I can’t find it

And I’m honestly freaking out

I’m gonna have a panic attack

All my songs are in there

And some stuff I don’t want people

poking around in

Mochi_Moves:

Give me just a second, I’m walking back to my room

I’m almost there

SUGA:

Fuckkkkk

Okay

It’s okay

Mochi_Moves:

Oh goodness

Uh

I found it!

I caught Taehyung holding it, but I don’t think he read anything

I’ve never lurched at him so quickly

Do you want me to drop it off?

c:

SUGA:

Yes <3

Ew

That heart was so entirely

A you thing

Mochi_Moves:

Aw c:

You’re sending hearts now

SUGA:

Did it make yours go bangya bangya

Mochi_Moves:

Just a little

c:

SUGA:

That’s fucking gay wow

Mochi_Moves:

I’ll safely return your notebook now!

I’ll guard it with my life

And I won’t read anything

I promise

<3

SUGA:

Jimin

You’re a true hero

I might end up composing that song for

you if you don’t watch out.

Mochi_Moves:

You want to go to the next base already?

wow

I’m impressed

SUGA:

Don’t get your hopes up, sweetie

My emotional capacity is that of a

teaspoon.

Mochi_Moves:

If you triple the recipe, you’ll get a tablespoon

I just gotta triple my love

And your emotional capacity will go up

c:

SUGA:

Which girl group sang that

Bc that’s what you sound like

It’s pretty gay.

Mochi_Moves:

I live with a gay roommate,

I learn a lot of gay things from him

Now open up Mint Yoongi

I’m outside

SUGA:

I would yell @ you for not calling me hyung

But i want my damn notebook.

I’m coming.

Chat With Mochi_Moves

2015.11.27

02:50

Mochi_Moves:

Mint Yoondi

Min

T

Yonff

Ccd:

SUGA:

Wha

Are you drunk?

Mochi_Moves:

Yeff

Yessd

So muffh soju

Whaff aru yo u ding

SUGA:

Where are you?

Are you safe?

Mochi_Moves:

I jusf go t home

Tae t ae passef out

I wasa bored

And mussed u

SUGA:

You saw me like 7 hours ago

Mochi_Moves:

Oghmygo

Ohmydo

That wascd so lo ng ago

::(

SUGA:

Jimin

You should drink water and go to sleep

Please

For your health

Mochi_Moves:

Im

Im nof tierd

Ill  dinrk wahter though

Aru you still u p wrintinh musi

C

???/

SUGA:

As usual.

Mochi_Moves:

WHAt isi it about this tim e/?

SUGA:

My first love.

Mochi_Moves:

Fird love?

I neve r heARd anything abo ut your love life

Didi somethin rly happen to make u

An emo grunge bo y?

Can you ttell me about it??

SUGA:

Not when you’re drunk.

Ask me when you’re sober.

Mochi_Moves:

Ehehhehfdhe

You sitll won t share about yourself :c

I thoght we were best gay pals

I thoufht we got close enough to talk abuot these kind

Of things

SUGA:

Your hangover is gonna be nasty.

How about

I come over in the morning, bring some fire ramen

And tell you about me.

I just don’t want you to forget the conversation.

Mochi_Moves:

Wooooooooooow

minT yoon gi

The sweetest man

Fire ranen sounds

fantatiiiiiiifc

SUGA:

You bet your ass I’m the sweetest man

I’ll fuck up anyone who says otherwise.

Mochi_Moves:

Sweet as suga r

c:

SUGA:

Damn right i am

Mochi_Moves:

<3/

Chat With The.V.Zone

2015.11.29

15:00

The.V.Zone:

Lstn Yoongz

I saw your notebook

SUGA:

I figured you weren’t above snooping in my shit

Trying to figure me out

Or whatever.

The.V.Zone:

I was nvr a fan of you in the first place

Ill b honest

SUGA:

Understandable.

I used to find you unbearably obnoxious

The.V.Zone

I don’’t kno what my Chim has goin on in his head

But he’s all ovr u these days

And im gttn weird vibes

I dnt feel comfortable with this situation

Bck off a little

Chim is a sensitive soul

I don’t want any1 hurting him

SUGA:

Just curious, but what did you read

The.V.Zone

Smthn abt ur first love

SUGA:

Ah.

That’s uh,

I wrote that about my piano

The.V.Zone

Wut.

SUGA:

Look, my family situation was kinda

Eh

It wasn’t great

So I played piano and wrote music

And well

I fell in love with it.

I think it’s the only thing I’ve ever loved.

The.V.Zone:

…

weLL WHY DIDNT U JUST SAY SO

LOOK @ U

A SOFT EMO BOY FALLIN IN LUV

WITH A

PIANo

Wow u r so gay

SUGA:

My name is literally sugar, why are you all

so surprised to find out i’m nice?

The.V.Zone:

U always look rly grumpy

Like ur ready 2 kill someone

I dnt want my Chim around a murderer

SUGA:

It’s call resting bitch face and I’m sorry it

bothers you.

Jimin is a dear friend to me. I would never

do anything to hurt him.

The.V.Zone:

Well

If u say so

THEN BY ALL MEANS FEEL FREE 2 CUM OVR ANYTIME

But im not kiddin bout backing off

Chims mine

Furever

SUGA:

Wait, are you harbouring romantic

feelings for Jimin?

The.V.Zone:

Am i

Am i harborinfdsf

LMMAAAAAAAAOO

Ohmyg o d

Hyung

Ur so funny

Im crying

Oh dear god no

Im happily taken

But ty for ur concern

SUGA:

See, we don’t talk so I don’t know these

things about you.

Don’t worry

You still and will forever remain Jimin’s #1

The.V.Zone:

Good

But wait

What abt u

R u harboring feelings for my Chim??

SUGA:

…

I liked it better when we weren’t talking

The.V.Zone

Oh

O h

OH

I liked it better when we weren’t talking too.

BUT 2 LATE 4 THAT

SPILL THE JUICES

I WONT TELL I PROMISE

SUGA:

Every single fiber of my being tells me that

that is a lie

The.V.Zone:

:)

U dont kno me

SUGA:

Yeah that’s the problem

The.V.Zone:

Okay

Rmbr Jimin’s recent performance?

U 2 sick with the flu

And cldnt go

SUGA:

:/ I still feel bad about that.

He was so excited for me to watch.

The.V.Zone

Well

I hve pics

V good pics

If u tell me ill send them 2 u

U wont regret

:) :)

SUGA:

You know, I might have misjudged you, Kim Taehyung.

I apologize for that.

The.V.Zone:

U r forgiven

SUGA:

Well. I haven’t told anyone this

but

I have

emotions

regarding a certain person

named

Park Jimin.

The.V.Zone:

*sigh*

Some1 in luv

With my Chim

SUGA:

You throw the word “love” out so easily

I’ve only known him personally for like 2 weeks

The.V.Zone:

Gr8 point

Thats why ur perfct 4 him

An intellectual

I’ll deliver what i promised

Cherish these with ur lyfe

Regrettin that flu yet?

SUGA:

Holy shit

I’m gay