#it may *look* fine from here but the back hair is all flat. ur looking at the back of the faces right now

[ijustwant2write]

Reconnect-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @peakystitches​)

Masterlist

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @jenepleurepasbaby​ @amirahiddleston​ @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff​ @mzcrazy2​

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! May i request an either tommy or finn shelby x reader? (Whicheverr one u think suits best) for this prompt i found: character A and B have been in a longterm relationship and nothing can get in between, until one day something does and they drift away. But then they reconnect emotionally and everything feels like the first time again (first kiss, first meal together etc) 🙏🏼💜 i love ur writing thank u’

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader, Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, arguing, finance issues, drinking, fluff

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Finn, is that you?" I called out from our bedroom as I heard the front door open. I tensed up when I didn't hear a reply, only to let out a sigh when I heard him giggling.

He was drunk again, it happened almost every week now. Tommy would have given him something important to do for the gang, and whether or not Finn succeeded with that task, he would go out and celebrate with his mates. I would sometimes tag along if I wasn't tired from the week of working, but after seeing our finances, I realised we needed to stop acting like teenagers and start saving wisely.

"Hello my gorgeous girl." he slurred out as he entered the room.

"Hello Finn." I replied as I received a sloppy kiss to my forehead.

He flopped down beside me in bed, taking the book out of my hands and throwing it to the floor. Finn wrapped his arms around me, snuggling into my lap. I took off his hat, stroking back his hair. He was cold from the brisk walk home, causing me to shiver.

“You should have come out tonight." he said.

"I got off work late."

"He kept you again?"

"No, I decided to stay."

"Why? You always say you're tired."

"I'm tired because I'm picking up extra shifts and hours so that we can start saving up for a house."

"I've told you, we don't need to worry about that. Business is good."

"Finn, we're not going to be given the money. We have to earn it."

"Tommy will help us."

"He might help but he won't give us a lot. And even if he did hand us a house, we've got to have enough money for the bills, furniture-"

"It will be fine."

"Finn, we've not even had our wedding yet!"

We had been engaged for half a year. We were wanting to be married sooner, but problems arose with the Peaky Blinders it distracted us both from it, especially since our lives were in danger. I desperately wanted to have enough money for the wedding and house, though it looked like it was going to be one or the other at this point.

"What's wrong with the flat?" Finn now sat up.

"Did you seriously ask me that question? There's only so much I can do to this dump to make it look somewhat liveable. It just doesn't feel like home."

"We'll get the money. Don't worry. Look, look," he took my hands in his,"we will get a house. I promise. And believe me, I want to marry you as soon as I can, there needs to be another ring on that finger. And I need to see my name at the end of yours."

I stupidly believed him. Those adoring eyes I once trusted had lied to me. Finn kept his promise for a week at max, soon breaking it. I didn't mind him going out with friends, we both needed to socialise, I just disagreed with the amount of times he was out and the amount of drinks he was buying each night. He would always offer to get the next round, and although he was a Shelby, the discounts didn't make much difference at the end of the night. I decided I had to go with him to ensure that our money wasn't being poured away, struggling to stay awake for those long nights, and making work even harder every day. It was impossible to keep an eye on him like that.

Usually Finn would tell me if he was going out that night so I wouldn't worry. That stopped too. My mind was never at ease. How did I know he wasn't lying in a ditch somewhere after a job gone wrong? Or what if he was trapped somewhere by a rival gang? I could only rest when he returned, which he always luckily did. I pretended to be asleep, trying to not push him away as he slipped his arms around me, cuddling me for the rest of the night. My patience began to grow thin. I was too scared to speak up about it, worried that we would just end up having an argument. However, I knew we would have to bring it up soon, because our money was only disappearing instead of increasing.

One morning when I was leaving for work, I noticed that the drawer we locked our savings away in was slightly ajar, meaning someone had unlocked it and stupidly left it open. Of course it had to be Finn, no one had broken in during the night. My eyes widened when I saw how much he had taken, enraged that he would think me so foolish. Why would he take the money without asking? What was he using it for?

As I stormed towards the shop, I heard whooping from men in a car further up the street. My face turned into a deep frown when I recognised the car, managing to catch a glimpse of the people in it. They hadn't seen me, and I had to make sure my eyes were deceiving me.

I didn't care about the looks on me as I burst through into the shop, making a beeline for Polly's office. I harshly knocked on the door, entering when she called me.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" she asked, a lit cigarette in hand.

"Where's Finn?"

"Off out with his brothers, why?"

"Where are they going?"

"To the races."

I scoffed, placing a hand on my head in defeat.

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"He told me he would be in the office all day today."

"So? Things change."

"No, he specifically told me that. I never even asked about it. He made a point meaning he didn't want to risk me waltzing in. That means he's hiding something."

"(Y/N), they're only going to bet on horses today. They're mingling."

"They're betting today?!"

She stood, putting a hand on her hip."What am I missing here?"

"Pol, he's using money that we don't have! I need a car, I need to get to him."

"Look, even if my nephew is being the biggest idiot, it's a bad idea to go there."

"Why?"

Her eyes widened."Don't snap at me young lady."

"I'm sorry, I just, I just know he's going to be stupid with what little money we have at the minute."

Polly was silent for a few seconds, and I didn't know if she was just staring me out, trying to make me leave. Perhaps she didn't think it was anything to worry over. But it was to me. She surprised me when she went into one of her drawers, pulling out a set of keys.

"Come on. I'll get one of the girls to call your work, say you're sick."

I tightly clasped my hands together as Polly drove. I was furious, trying to think of what to say to Finn when I got there. He stole our money. He went behind my back, gambling away the money we worked hard to earn. I had never said it, but Finn had it much easier than I did. For one, he worked with family, and although I liked my job, the boss could sometimes be an arsehole; second, he earned a lot more than me, so he was the bigger breadwinner between us, but I worked longer hours. Yes, he was in a gang meaning he had more days where his life was under threat, but he seemed to be having a jolly good time anyway. Really, it wouldn't have mattered who worked longer or harder, or who earned more, it was still our money to spend on our house.

As soon as Polly parked up, I was straight out of the car. She quickly followed grabbing my arm and warning me to not get lost in the crowds. I couldn't make a scene, especially since there could be potential business partners or enemies about. I refrained from rolling my eyes, knowing she was right but also knowing that I would find it extremely hard to not scream at Finn.

Polly guided me to where the men would be, ignoring the shoving and shouting. I wished for her to walk quicker. We swiftly entered the posher boxes, almost stopped by a doorman until his accomplice shut him up. I even heard him whisper 'That's Polly Gray you idiot.', the one time I was glad we had a reputation. She only paused to scan the room for the boys but I spotted them first. Quickly moving past her, I couldn't stop my fists from clenching, seeing Finn joyfully drinking and laughing with his brothers only added fire to my fury.

"Finn!" I snapped, quickly catching his attention.

"(Y/N)?" he exclaimed, struggling to stand and clattering the plates and glasses on the table."W-what are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from spending our money like a fucking idiot! Where is it?"

"Oh, Finn boy is in the doghouse." John chuckled.

"Shut up!" I fiercely pointed at him.

"Where's what?" Finn brought me back.

"Our money!"

"I told you, you do this outside." Polly warned, shoving Finn in that direction, and I knew I had to follow him.

Luckily, we were left alone. Finn continued on, finding someplace we would be alone. Once we were in the clear, the distant roar of the crowds covering our conversation, I saw him sigh quietly, running a hand down his face when he realised what was coming.

"Where's the money Finn?" I asked, calmer but with a mean tone.

"Let me explain first.”

"Explain how you took our money without asking? How you just waltzed out this morning without consulting me?"

"Tommy said that there was a good chance, a very good chance that this horse would win, and I thought it would help us if we put our money on it. Imagine how much we'll have if it wins!"

"If it wins Finn, if! You're gambling our money, why would you do something like that?"

"Because you went on about not having enough money! And here I am trying to help!"

My mouth dropped open in shock."You really don’t see the problem here."

"No, actually, I don't." he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Finn, you stole money from the drawer! You then go behind my back and bet it away. Have you thought about what we'll do if that horse loses?"

"But it won't, Tommy said."

"And what if Tommy is wrong this time? Also, don't pin this on your brother, I know he hasn't even suggested this idea."

"I'm not-urgh!" Finn groaned."Why don't you trust me?"

"I can't trust a gamble Finn. I don't think you realise how many nights I've spent lying awake, worried that we'll never have enough for our own home, and thinking that you don't even care anymore."

"Of course I care. This is why I've bet the money."

"How is this not getting in your head?"

"(Y/N)," he took my hands in his, but I couldn't even look at him,"in a few minutes we will hear them announce the winner, and we will start jumping for joy when we realise how much money we're going to get back, and we're going to be so much closer to getting our home."

"Finn, I desperately want to believe that. But even if we do win, you're in deep trouble." I took my hands away from him, turning around. I couldn't even look at my own fiance.

On queue, we heard a man come over the intercom, it was muffled to me but I knew Finn was listening intensely. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched for his reaction, turning around fully when I saw his expression. We had lost. We lost all that money.

"How could you be so fucking stupid?!" I screamed at him, throwing slaps onto his chest."Why couldn't you just listen to me? I don't understand why you had to lie to me Finn!"

I broke down crying, shoving him away from me. My sobs were loud but I didn't care. Finn could watch, see how much he upset me. My heart sank at the thought of it all gone, Finn had left scarcely any money in the drawer back at the flat.

"I'm sorry (Y/N)." Finn pathetically said.

"You know how you always go on about your family never trusting you enough for the big jobs? That you never get to go out with them and help? This is why. Because you do things like this, you fuck everything up Finn. Fuck!" I wiped away my tears, even though more spilled out."You know I've always stuck beside you, but this is the last straw Finn. I can't be with someone who doesn't want to put effort into their future."

"What are you saying? (Y/N), I can fix this. I promise I'll get the money back, I'll-"

"How? That took us so long to build that up. And you were spending our money almost every night on useless drinking. I can't Finn, I can't live like that anymore."

He ducked his head, and I almost wanted him to say something. When he didn't, I knew what I had to do.

I took a deep breath before speaking."I'm going home. I suggest you stay at Polly's tonight."

"Let me take you home-"

"No!"

"What's going on?" Tommy suddenly appeared, he, his brothers and Polly approaching.

"Your nephew, your brother, just gave away almost all of our money betting on a horse. Not only that, but he took the money without telling me. That was money for a house." I angrily explained.

"Is that true Finn?"

Finn shamefully nodded.

"We can get you your money back (Y/N)."

"It's not about that Tom. He's lied to me. He promised me he wouldn't spend our money every week, yet he did. And then he takes our money without asking me about it first."

"I'll fix it (Y/N), I promise I will." Finn was begging at this point.

"Another promise that you're bound to break. I've had enough today."

"Let's get you home love." Polly said, putting a stop to this argument as she stepped forward, taking me under her arm.

Finn didn't come home that night. I didn't sleep. I was sat at the tiny dining table, staring at the ring on my finger, wondering what to do. It broke my heart to think about leaving him, but it also broke my heart thinking about how reckless he had been. Did I really want to be marrying someone who acted like this? Would he mature? My heart wanted to believe he would, but my mind kept telling me that today confirmed he wouldn't. That was one of the worst nights of my life.

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I couldn't stand this job any longer. But it was the only thing keeping me alive. It was crappy work, the pay was just above minimum, enough for me to buy food, pay my rent and have the tiniest amount left over. Saving up money was hard when it was just you. Even after two years, I didn't have enough to consider looking at places of my own, or with less roommates. It was exhausting keeping up with these girls I lived with, there were 6 of us altogether. It was a big change when I moved away from Small Heath.

"You ready (Y/N)?" one of my roommates called out to me as I finished applying my lipstick.

"Just a second!" I replied, checking myself in the mirror.

It was the rare occasion that I was going out with them, the one time we could all go out together at all. I was looking forward to a few drinks, and although that sounded hypocritical, I realised that I had to have a night or two in at least a month to relieve myself of the stress I put upon myself.

We arrived at the small club we always went to, it had the cheapest drinks this side of town. We all shivered in the cold weather, walking as fast as we could to make it to the club. The warmth was very welcome, as well as the loud music that drew us further in. It was the usual routine, a few of us grab a table, the others get the drinks in, then we would all make our way to the dance floor. Hours passed, and I had to get away from the heat coming from the dancing, stepping back towards our table to get a drink. I saw my roommate stumbling in the direction of the bar, rolling my eyes as I went to help her, perhaps getting a drink whilst I was there. However, once I got closer, I stared at the man she was starting to flirt with.

"Isaiah?" I said as I got closer.

"(Y/N)!" he smiled, bringing me in for a hug.

"You two know each other?" my roommate asked, looking disappointed.

"He's an old friend. Just that, nothing else."

Isaiah let me go."How long has it been? Two years?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, two years. What are you doing here?"

"Business. Nothing dangerous though, you girls are still in for a good night. Especially you if you're good." he winked to my roommate.

"Is he...is he here?" my voice suddenly went shaky, and I felt almost completely sober.

Isaiah's playful nature dropped."Uh, he is. He's really misses you (Y/N). Hasn't even looked at another girl since you left. He's just not been the same." I wasn't sure how to reply.

"I can't not tell him I saw you. Imagine if he found out, he would be so upset with me."

"I know. I wouldn't want to hurt your friendship."

"Maybe you should see him. It might do you both some good."

"Or the opposite."

"He still loves you. Even if you don't feel the same, it could bring closure. But I know you (Y/N), I can tell what you're thinking."

"You were always annoying like that."

"He's out front, in the corridor. That's all I'm going to say."

I looked at him for a few seconds, trying to make my mind up."Well, this one is a handful, just so you know."

"I think I can handle her." Isaiah smirked.

"I was warning her about you."

I giggled at his reaction, walking away and leaving him in his natural habitat of flirting. But as soon as I turned around, my stomach dropped, nerves filling up my entire body. He was here. I hadn't seen him for two years, though I thought about him everyday. Would he look different? Did I look different? What was he going to say? What was I going to say? My brain didn't want to think of any words, maybe I was about to babble absolute nonsense to him.

Upon seeing him, my throat tightened, the cool air slapping me in the face; oh, now I was sober. He hadn't noticed yet, leaning up against a wall, hands in his pockets. Wow, he had changed. His boyish charm was still there, yet he had matured into a handsome young man. It was like I was seeing him for the first time all over again. I was just happy that he would be seeing me in my finer clothes rather than catching me after work.

Urging my feet to move, I almost sighed at how small my steps were. I really was scared. Isaiah had said reassuring things, yet I couldn't even walk up to him. It was too late to back out now, especially when he finally looked up at me. I froze on the spot, not knowing what to do. Finn seemed the same way.

"(Y/N)." he said, I only just heard it.

"Hello."

Hello? Really, that's all I could come up with?

He pushed himself off the wall, coming to stand in front of me, though not too close."I...I can't believe you're here."

"I could say the same about you."

"This is where you've been living then."

I nodded."It's not too bad. I mean, I'm on a night out."

"Who are you with?"

I knew he was wondering if I was with a man."My roommates, I live with five other girls."

"Oh, that's a lot."

"Yeah, it's the only place I could afford."

"I hope it's nice."

"I shouldn't complain. A lot better than other places."

We both knew we were making an awful attempt at small talk. I was sure he had so much to say like I did, we just didn't want to dump it on each other in case the other ran away. It was like we were teenagers again, awkwardly trying to think of something to fill the dreaded silence.

"I really want to talk about us (Y/N)." Finn said.

"You do?"

"I...I just have so much to say to you. I can't do it now, but what about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow, um, yes, yes tomorrow works for me. It's the weekend, so I'm not working."

He smiled slightly."OK, good. I'll come get you. Um, I need your address."

"Oh, here." I dug around in my purse, thankful there was a folded up tissue and a pen, it was good to be prepared. I wrote down my address, handing it to him.

"I'll pick you up at one. I would want it to be earlier, you just never know what time you'll be back with this sort of thing."

"I understand Finn, I did live this with you once."

I barely slept, even when we stumbled in at three in the morning. Luckily I hadn't seen Finn, Isaiah or any other Peaky Blinder that evening, no doubt settling business behind the scenes. Despite the lack of sleep, I was wide awake the next morning, up before everyone else who were nursing their hangovers, trying on multiple outfits in a desperate attempt to look nice, but not as if I put too much effort in. The clock was rolling onto one o'clock, and my heart was beating much faster than usual. I was about to make my way downstairs when something glistened on my small vanity. Should I take it? Yes, I would.

Finn knocked on the door, and I waited a few seconds before opening it. We smiled as we greeted each other, not going in for a hug or kiss on the cheek, something I was worried about. That was the first hurdle jumped over.

"How was your evening?" Finn struck up a conversation as we walked further into town.

"Much better than yours I presume?" I smirked. He chuckled."Yeah, didn't exactly get to enjoy the music. Small fight, nothing we couldn't handle."

It was strange hearing about Blinder business again."Well I'm glad you're all safe."

"I thought we could go out for lunch, saw a nice place round here."

"Oh, that would be lovely."

"We don't have to, if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, no, no, it's not that. It's just a lovely thing for you to do."

We both bashfully smiled, luckily the restaurant was just around the corner. I had expected nothing less when we walked into the fancy place, not because I thought I deserved it, but because Finn wouldn't be seen anywhere else. His clothes were even more tailored now than they had been the last I saw him, indicating that the gang had been doing well, more money was coming in. We both immediately picked up our menus as we sat, hoping someone would speak first. Our eyes glanced over the top of them, it was as if we were on our first date again, only this time in a better establishment.

"You look beautiful." he said, still hiding part of his face.

"Thank you." I blushed.

"I'll never forget what you wore when I picked you up for our first date. That blue dress you just bought, with a matching purse, and those heels that you hadn't practiced walking in. Well, you used that as an excuse to latch into my arm all night."

I smiled, placing down my menu."It was a good plan, wasn't it? And I did struggle in those heels, I just didn't want to embarrass myself."

He copied me."I liked holding your hand all night."

"What a sweet sentiment."

"I mean it. And I mean this date. That didn't sound right, but...what I'm trying to say is that I want to make it all up to you."

"You do?"

"Yes! I really didn't expect you to leave. I mean I did, but I didn't want to believe that. I didn't want to believe that I had been so selfish that I couldn't even see how much I had hurt you." 

“That was the hardest decision I ever made. Most days I battle with myself whether I made the right choice. All night I kept making deals with myself. If you came back, I would hear you out, and if it was good enough for me I would stay. But then you didn’t, so I said to myself ‘Give him another hour.’. An hour went by, and I said the same thing to myself. That went on for the whole evening until I found myself angrily packing my things. Even then, I sat by door on top of my suitcase for another hour or so.”

“I thought you just got up and left. I didn’t realise how long you waited for me.” he sighed into his hands.“I’m such a fucking idiot.”

I could tell he was full of regret. Although it sounded sadistic, I was glad that he was upset when reflecting on our past relationship, it meant he realised his mistake. On the other hand, I hated seeing him sad. I took his hands away from his face, hesitantly reaching into my handbag to pull out the engagement ring I kept.

His eyes widened.“You still have that? I looked everywhere for it when you left, guessed you took it to sell.”

“I won’t lie, that was my intention at first. But it meant too much to me. It was like selling a piece of my soul. I kept it hidden, I didn’t want to risk any of the girls seeing it, they would just ask too many questions.”

I kept my eye on the beautiful ring as I spoke, slowly twirling it around to catch it twinkling in the light.

"I had such a hard time picking that out. I knew what you wanted, but I had to get it right for you. I'm so glad you kept it."

"I did try to sell it. I was stood outside of a shop for ten minutes debating with myself. It would have helped a lot for the deposit on the room, but I couldn't do it."

We were silent, both staring at the ring. We used to do that a lot actually. Finn would take my hand and hold it up as we laid in bed together, both giggling as we watched it glisten like it was in present times, before squealing at the thought of us being married to each other. I constantly fiddled with it when he was off on business, a habit which never wore off, even now; whenever I was nervous or worried, I would automatically do the same action, just without the ring.

A waiter awkwardly interrupted us, and I hurriedly put the ring back in my bag, sharing an embarrassed smile with Finn as we ordered. Once he was gone, I quietly sighed, looking out of the window. We were in such a nice part of town, so many ladies in beautiful dresses and men in smart suits strolling around.

"Are you...are you OK for money?" Finn boldly asked.

I was a little shocked by that.

"I don't mean anything by it. I just want to make sure you're OK, I would hate for you to be struggling, if you were."

"Uh, no, no I'm fine actually. It's not as generous as my old wage but it keeps me alive, I can live with the bare necessities."

I could see him itching to say something else, to keep the conversation going. I wasn't sure if we could go back to the serious topic we had before. However, I also wanted to bring it back up, it felt like we needed to talk about us.

"How's the family?" That's all I could come up with.

"They're fine. Everyone is the same. Well, they're not, they're a bit more serious nowadays."

"They weren't in the first place?"

He smiled."I suppose they were. Tension is the right word, tensions have been rising. Tommy's taking on a lot more, Polly knows all these secrets that no one else does, Ada is rebelling against anything Tommy says, Linda is still annoying, Esme and John have been popping kids out left, right and centre. Arthur is still crazy."

"Sounds like business as usual to me."

"They miss you too."

"Do they?"

"Yeah. Almost as much as me."

I cast my eyes down as butterflies rose in my stomach.

"I heard nothing else for the next few weeks after you left. They all told me what an idiot I was, that I was an extremely reckless, stupid and immature boy, and that I had let the best thing in my life get away from me. And they were right. I knew all of that already."

"I...I don't really know what to say right now."

"You don't have to say anything, let's just enjoy this meal, no more of that talk."

The nerves making my stomach flip built at that. What if we had nothing else to talk about? What if it was too weird to dive into our separate lives? I didn't want to sit across my ex-fiance, painfully and politely smiling through forced conversation.

The spark was still there.

When the waiter had returned with our drinks, we were already deep in talk about what had been happening in our personal everyday life. We were non stop, even as we ate through dinner. The waiters had trouble catching our attention each time they checked on us. I was deep in those eyes again, the ones I always dreamed of seeing. We were laughing hysterically, not at all acting how we should have in that establishment (there were a few eye rolls from other patrons). As if time had gone by in a second, the bill was slipped towards Finn, though I still reached into my purse.

"Are you mad? No, put your money away, I'm not taking it." Finn stated as he carelessly threw down some notes, surprisingly taking my hand in his and guiding me out of the restaurant.

I was tense as we walked, and I saw a flash of realisation in Finn's eyes as we made it outside. Both looking down at our interlocked fingers, Finn broke away, clearing his throat.

"Sorry, force of habit."

Hesitating, I smiled up at him, lacing our hands together again."These are new heels I'm breaking in. Need help walking in them."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we walked down the street. We were silent, feeling like kids in love again. I couldn't deny that my feelings were still strong for Finn, I missed him dearly. At first, part of me had been wary of all this, wondering if he really had good intentions, or just thought he could get a quick shag in from an ex before he left; but the effort he went through, the things we spoke about, trying to heal old wounds, Finn had matured and he was wanting to fix this. I wanted to fix this, my heart was aching for my old life with him. 

“We’re not done yet, are we?” I timidly asked.

“Not unless you want it to be.”

I instantly shook my head.“No, I’d like to stay out for longer.”

“Even though you’re struggling in your heels?”

I smirked.“I know a nice place we can sit down.”

I took him to the local park, it had a huge lake with benches dotted around, luckily it wasn’t busy, there was somehow a hint of privacy here. We sat down close to each other, hands still entwined. 

“You still hungry?” I asked.

“Hm?”

I dug into my purse, producing a bag of sweets I had bought the previous day. I laughed as his eyes lit up, taking one without even asking. I took one too, reminiscing on how we used to do the same thing as kids. It seemed he was thinking about it too.

“Just like the old days.” Finn said.

“We spent way too much money on sweets back then. It’s a wonder we still have our teeth.”

 “Wish I got out of that spending habit. We could be married and in our new house by now.”

“So you never wanted to move on? You didn’t give in to those girls wanting to be with a Peaky Blinder?”

“Never. I couldn’t. I couldn’t even fathom being with anyone else, it was always you (Y/N). Did you date?”

“No, I felt exactly the same. Which is why I was angry at myself for a long time. I was supposed to be upset with you, not still in love.”

His head whipped round to face me.“You still love me?”

My mouth was still open, unsure how to answer. It seemed I didn’t have to as Finn leaned in, placing on hand on my cheek as we kissed. Instinctively I kissed back, placing my hands on him where I could, hearing the bag of sweets fall to the ground and spill its contents. This kiss was needy, the type of kiss you gave your partner when you had missed them, when they had been away for a long time; and although we had our hands on each other, our touch was still gentle.

“Get the ring.” Finn breathed out, our lips still almost touching.

I carelessly got it for him, heart beating extremely fast. He took it from me, pecking me on the lips one last time before standing up. He straightened out his suit, took a deep breath and got down on one knee. I was just as emotional the first time he did it.

“(Y/N), I know I messed up everything in the past, I was careless when I should have been supportive and helped to build our future. I learnt from those mistakes, and I really, really want to go back to how we were. I need you (Y/N), I love you so much. There aren’t enough words to express how much love I have for you. Will you marry me?”

I didn’t need to think about my answer. I blurted out a yes, waiting for him to slide the ring back on my finger before throwing myself onto him. We stumbled back onto the ground, our arms around each other as we laughed and cried. I believed him this time, I truly believed him. He put in the effort to show me his changes, he wanted to fix everything. I wanted things back to the way they were with my man, and we were back to building our future and living the rest of our lives together.

[lesbobiwan]

Okay, so, Could you do prompt #69 with Padmé?

Once again, congrats on 100, Honey!

thank you!!!! and ur gonna make me act up with this mommy kink and padmé i swear to god

#69: "Come here, baby, let Mommy take care of you." + Padmé

warnings: mommy kink, wlw, sugar mommy Padmé, body worship, mirror sex, female reader, reader receiving oral

You don't think you've ever been miserable like this.

The whole day has been nothing but rude costumers and even ruder bosses. You are one strong gust of wind away from bawling your eyes out and not even feeling embarrassed over it.

You just want to go home and see her.

You hand the cab driver his ridiculously over-charged fee, not that it matters much — it's not really your money — and trudge past the Coruscant Guard member that stays outside the Senate apartments that Senators and the like will stay at when deliberating on a bill.

His helmet tips to you in greeting, and you offer him a tired wave and a not-all-there smile before entering the elevator.

Your body moves on autopilot. Bone-tired fingers press the correct button and your body sways with the movement of the elevator as it begins its ascent.

The elevator doors slide open with a faint ding that echos through the empty room.

It's late. Realistically, you know that she's probably in bed, hair already taken out of her elaborate braids and headpieces even though that's one of your favorite parts of staying the night at this apartment.

Your feet carry you on the familiar path to the master bedroom, where a bed fit for... well, a queen, is pressed against the back wall.

There, in the middle of the bed, is —

"Padmé," you breathe.

The sight of her is like a weight lifted from your shoulders. The sword that's been hanging over your neck since the sun rose vanishes from sight.

Padmé's face contorts into a frown and she sits up against the pillow propped up on the headboard. She sets aside the datapad in her lap. Your name leaves her lips in the sweetest of whispers, and you sway on your feet at the sound of it.

Fuck, it's so nice to be home.

"I had a really bad day," you mumble, scuffing your feet against the fine carpet.

Padmé pulls back the thick blanket and holds her arms out. "Come here, baby," she coos, "let Mommy take care of you,"

A shudder wracks through your body and your eyes flutter shut. Is it that obvious what kind of mood you're in?

You're straddling her lap with your face buried into her neck between one blink and the next.

Her hands, so slim and delicate, thread through your hair and scratch gently at your scalp. "What do you need, baby?" she whispers into your temple.

"Please, just..." your hips begin to move against hers, "take care of me?"

One of Padmé’s hands slip from your hair to grab at your hip in a surprisingly strong grip. "Take care of you?" She repeats, thumb swiping across your skin.

Under her grasp, your skin prickles in anticipation. Your breathing picks up as slender fingers begin to slide under your waistband.

"Please."

Padmé's fingers dance across the fabric of your panties, ghosting over your clit with not enough friction. "Is this what you needed?" she asks, even though she knows it's not and she knows you need more.

Your twist your neck to bury your nose into her hair. The familiar scent of citrus and fresh flowers fills your senses, but it isn't enough to clear the storm raging in your head.

You think you sob something into her curls, because her hand pulls out of your pants and suddenly there's a warmth on both of your cheeks and your face is being pulled back to look at Padmé.

"Tell me what you need, my love," she whispers, thumb swiping across your cheekbone.

Gone is the teasing touches, and you feel unworthy to have the undivided attention of someone like Padmé Amidala.

"I just want to forget," you murmur, hands curling into the silk nightgown that's most definitely too expensive for you to even look at.

"Okay," Padmé agrees easily.

She always agrees too easily.

You think she'd hand over her Senate seat to you if you asked. Padmé would give you every credit she has to her name — which is a lot of them — and she'd give you the most lavish clothes and the most grand of mansions without even a second thought.

Your skin flushes with the heady feeling of being given such a gift like this. How in the hell did you manage to get so lucky?

Not that you would know, but Padmé asks herself the same question every morning she wakes up next to you.

With a strength that is no longer surprising to you, Padmé lifts you up and forward, laying you flat on her lavish Nabooian queen-sized bed.

Your eyes flutter shut as a gasp falls between your open lips, but Padmé doesn't let them stay closed for long.

Lithe fingers crawl up your chest and close around your chin, getting your attention with a gentle jerk of her hand.

"Look," she whispers into your skin, lips pressing the softest of kisses down your newly revealed stomach with every button of your shirt she undos.

Your eyes fly open and —

Oh.

You stare into a mirror that stretches over the whole ceiling.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to Padmé: the curve of her back as she crawls down your body, the swell of her ass as she readjusts herself overtop of you, the waterfall of curly hair that spills down her shoulders and back.

She's ethereal and yours.

"Look at yourself," Padmé reiterates, lips dancing at your waistband. "I wish you could see you the way I see you,"

A noise of disagreement leaves your throat, but it's replaced with a high pitched moan as Padmé finally pulls your bottoms and panties down.

Hands, perfectly warm against your skin, flatten against your inner thighs as Padmé forces your legs wider. "Yes," she insists, "you're beautiful. So good for Mommy,"

Your breath hitches.

"You always make Mommy feel so good," Padmé continues, laying flat between your legs. Her breath is hot against your fluttering cunt. "Can't I make you feel good?"

You're so torn. You want to watch her with your own eyes — you want to crane your neck and look at her with her face so dangerously close to what you want to most — but there's also something so entrancing about watching her through the mirror.

It's intoxicating to watch as she pushes your legs even wider, and one of her hands comes up to splay across your stomach.

"Yes," you whimper, writhing beneath her touch. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your mouth goes dry as you prepare yourself for your next words. "Yes, Mommy."

She presses a soft kiss to delicate junction where your thigh meets pussy, "That's my good girl," she whispers into your skin.

Padmé proceeds to ruin any train of thought you may have had by closing her lips around your clit. The tip of her tongue laves tight little circles around your sensitive bud while her hands hold your jerking hips down.

The gasp that is ripped from your lips echos through her bedroom, bouncing off the mirror above you.

It's a glorious sight. All you can do is watch through the reflection as Padmé buries her face into your cunt and throws herself into eating you out like she throws herself into her Senatorial work.

You're babbling, you think. Nothing intelligible. It's all cries of Mommy and thank you and you feel so good.

One of her hands leaves your hip to trace around your fluttering hole. Padmé doesn't make you beg before she slides two fingers, knuckle deep, into your cunt as she moans into you.

The vibrations paired with the sudden penetration have you wailing and arching into her mouth.

"Please!" you cry out, "'m gonna cum, Mommy, I'm gonna cum!"

Her other hand slides up to close around one of your breasts, kneading the skin and pinching your nipple with blinding accuracy.

You watch through glazed eyes as your chest heaves beneath her hand and your legs tremble around her shoulders.

You feel teeth against your clit as her lips stretch into a smile.

You hear the obscene squelch of your cunt around her fingers as she strokes that devastating spot inside of you.

"Cum for Mommy," Padmé commands before ducking her head back down to suck viciously at your clit.

You sob your pleasure as your release floods her mouth.

Padmé drinks you down with all the greed of a woman in the desert, lapping gently at your cunt until you're jerking away from her in overstimulation.

"That's my good girl," she whispers as she crawls back up your body. "Such a good girl,"

You waste no time in wrapping your arms around her waist while she lays herself over top of you. The grounding weight of her body keeps you from slipping away from yourself, and instead you are content to lay in the aftermath of your pleasure.

Padmé presses a sugar sweet kiss to your temple.

Mommy always takes care of her girl.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

4 Oct. Suptober: Secrets

"Thank you for understanding," Cas said quietly behind him.

Dean turned around at that. He fought to keep his voice even. "What, exactly, am I understanding here."

au (choose ur own season! Charlie’s alive, no-one’s possessed); deancas, mildly nsfw

The ceiling in this room was strewn with runes, which shouldn't have startled Dean for at least two reasons. 

First, parts of the bunker's labyrinth of corners, closets, and hidey-holes had been designed for a variety of purposes only a few of which the Men of Letters had deigned to actually write down somewhere. The rune room, by contrast, was much more straightforwardly dedicated to runology, and whichever MoL had been in charge of decorating had gone with the obvious. In addition to the books, field research, and reels on runes and the collection of tablets, boxes, knives, almanacs, placards, plates, and skins (ugh) patterned with archaic alphabets, there were whole passages of rune poetry, songs, and spells painted on all available surfaces.

Secondly, and more importantly: there were five old quilts piled on the floor behind the tallest bookcase, and while Dean had spent multiple occasions underneath this ceiling, often while flat on his back on the quilts, he was usually preoccupied with amusements more potent than whatever the hell was spelled out between the bookcase's top shelf and the wall.

"Are you going to move anytime soon?" he whispered, smiling into Cas's hair.

Cas made a small noise of protest and did not shift his weight off of Dean.

"You're heavier than you look." Dean stroked his hands down the length of Cas's back, beneath the shirt they'd rucked up but hadn't managed to remove. "Earth to Castiel." He wiggled around on the quilts a little.

Eyes screwed shut, Cas pushed himself up just enough to slide off but remain plastered to Dean's side. 

Dean knocked his forehead against Cas's. "Hey." 

He couldn't figure out what to say in response to the look Cas gave him then. 

Bruised, Dean thought; vulnerable. 

Had he somehow hurt Cas while they…?

"I'm fine, Dean," Cas said, as though that wasn't the thing they both lied to one another about on a regular basis. He chewed his lip for a moment. 

"Cas--"

"I don't think we should keep doing this anymore." Cas had his eyes closed again, as if against a blinding light.

Dean blinked up at the ceiling. It was surprisingly blurry.

"All right," he offered. 

"It's just." Cas swallowed. "We agreed this was not." 

He moved away until he was flat on his back at the edge of the blankets. Dean's skin seemed to chase the missing warmth like it could call somehow it forth in the gap between their bodies.

"Not what," Dean said flatly.

"I don't remember what we called the arrangement." Cas sat up, reached for his boxer briefs and trousers slung over the nearest desk chair. "Casual."

Dean sat up as well, since it seemed quality time in the ol' pleasure palace had definitively ended. He wiped down quickly, with the washcloth he'd remembered to bring, put on his t-shirt and underwear while still sitting down, and stood up to tug on his jeans. His back to Cas, he put his arms into his flannel button-down and leaned against the bookcase. Nothing about getting dressed was strenuous, yet he was exhausted.

"Thank you for understanding," Cas said quietly behind him.

Dean turned around at that. He fought to keep his voice even. "What, exactly, am I understanding here."

Cas hadn't tucked in his shirt yet. The more-disheveled-than-usual wardrobe, combined with his uncombed hair and soft, sad eyes, got Dean going towards him before he even realized he was moving, tramping over the quilts. 

"It's not supposed to mean anything," Cas said, like he was apologizing for some trespass Dean could only guess at. "I broke the rules."

"We didn't." Dean stopped when he was basically standing nose to nose with him, an inch or two's worth of height neither here nor there. "There weren't any rules, not really."

Because that would have required more talking, and Dean, for one, had not wanted to talk. What he'd wanted was Cas under his hands, Cas's mouth on his, Cas naked, Cas gasping, Cas inside him hot and sweet as sin and salvation. And Dean had all that, and then some, for a couple months of sneaking at random if persistent intervals into this fucking room -- literally, a fucking room -- covered all over in what may as well have been secrets. Dean didn't speak a single rune language and apparently he didn't speak Cas either.

Cas couldn't move any further away without merging with the wall. His eyes on Dean's were so--

"This hasn't been meaningless, to me," Cas said, mouth turned down as though he expected Dean to hate him for the confession.

Dean took a step backward. "It hasn't been to me either." 

Cas looked at him like he'd spoken in Dalecarlian. Dean's heart clenched. He felt like he was just beginning to see the shape of what was happening, like if he looked away from Cas he would lose something precious he'd only just realized he was supposed to keep firmly in his grip.

Cas held his gaze, searching. He seemed to discover a revelation. "Oh," he said, his eyes suddenly alight.

The relief flooding over Dean was like diving into a clear, cool lake on a sweaty summer day. "Oh," he agreed, crowding into Cas's space again.

He hadn't kissed Cas but a dozen or two times in the last hour. Some remedies were easily executed.

Cas's hand tightened in his hair at the rap-rap-rappp on the door. His mouth was very red and Dean gentled the kiss without conceding it was necessary to actually stop kissing despite the interruption.

"If you guys are gonna be done with your research any time soon," Charlie called from the hallway, with a sarcastic emphasis on the word research, "Sam and I are ordering some Chinese. If, you know, you wanna eat some dinner with us later."

Dean waited until her footsteps faded. "She might be on to us."

Cas quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't you tell her what was going on almost from the start?"

Ah. Yeah, Dean had forgotten doing that. There were some real downsides to day drinking.

"And I told Sam after maybe a week," Cas said, with such innocence it only took five or six years off of Dean's life.

Dean laid his head on Cas's shoulder with a hidden groan and tried to recalibrate. "Wait. Why have we been sneaking around in here if everyone knows?" 

Not that two other people equalled the entirely of their acquaintance pool, but still.

"I thought you were enjoying the secretive nature of our encounters." Cas somehow managed to sound both prim and snarky. His eyebrow was working hard.

Dean took Cas's head in his hands and kissed his forehead. "The floor quilts are great. Y'know what would be even better? A mattress, Cas." 

"Noted."

Several hours later, Dean discovered that the ceiling in Cas's room was boringly plain white, not a runic inscription or rhyme in sight. He didn't mind.

[runanadwiddles]

hi!! May I request reader confessing to Kanata? I really enjoy reading ur fics <33 thank you and take care!

Heyhey~ I'm really glad that you enjoy reading what I write! Kanata is just your friendly marine neighbor <33

They say that if you whisper your deepest secret to a sea conch, something good will happen to you that day. Though that's just a myth, you couldn't help but wonder if it's true. A sigh escaped your lips as you held your shoes with one hand as your feet felt the sand slip between your toes. The calm ocean waves brushing past the sand, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, and the bright and warm sun shining upon you. All of it was music to your ears, your calm space, a safe spot from reality.

You hummed a tune to yourself and kept walking until you saw a strange shell. Curiosity filled your eyes to the very brim and had you quickly change your pace of walking to the odd-shaped shell. In no time, you reached the unique shell, a sea conch. That's when the strange myth hit you. You then dropped your shoes and picked up the conch, "If you whisper your deepest to a sea conch, then something good will happen to you that day," you and another person's voice harmonized together.

"H-huh? Kanata-kun? Phew, you scared me," you let out a sigh of relief, still holding the conch in your tiny hands. Kanata nodded and gave a smile, "Nope~ Just me, puka puka~☆" You gave a chuckle at the boy's usual manner and took your eyes back to the sea conch. You brought it closer to your face as if you could see all the small details of the conch. Strange, this was an odd conch, to say the least.

"Oh? What's this?" Kanata took a step beside you and crouched down to see another conch lying beneath the grains of sand. "Another one?" You gave a curious look and saw a similar conch to yours. "Hehe~ Why don't we whisper our secrets to these conches then?" Kanata suggested and held the conch close to his face, observing all the features of the conch just like what you did earlier. Maybe doing it together wouldn't hurt too much, would it?

"Hmm... Fine, but you go over there, and I'll go over here. We'll meet back at this area after we finish, okay?" You pointed to a small area with some shade and another area by the ocean. Both had a decent amount of distance from the spot where they found the conch so that no one could hear the secrets that you two held to themselves. Kanata took a look at the distance and walked over the wet area, "I'll stay here, and you go over there then!" You nodded and went over to the shaded area as Kanata went to his designated area. Maybe nothing will go that bad, right?

Once you reached the shaded area, you sat on a flat rock nearby a tree. The conch was still in your hand; you slowly brought it up to your lips as you could feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter. You could only get more and more anxious as the second passed by. You shook your head and took a deep breath in and out; you can do this! Maybe. Your lips trembled out of anxiety as you whispered your deepest secret to the conch ever so quietly. The words left your lips, that same warm and fuzzy feeling welling up in your chest just like earlier. Would this be enough?

After the small session of that warm feeling, you decided to make your way back. The sand was soft and powdery beneath your feet, the calming waves clashing against each other, and the presence of a blue-haired boy. You reached back to the meet-up spot to find Kanata there first.

"Oh? S/o, you're back! What did you tell Mr. Conch?" Kanata did a small wave and quickly asked you what you told the small shell. Your face immediately heated up; this guy really knows how to word things. "H-huh? What did I tell the conch? That's supposed to be a secret, you know!" You felt extremely flustered; you definitely weren't expecting him to ask you up front, that's for sure.

"If you tell me your's, I'll tell you mine~☆" Kanata offered, secretly dying to know what you hid from all the other idols that you couldn't possibly tell them. You gave an embarrassed look, "Promise you won't laugh?" You wanted to tell him so bad, but you were worried at the same time; what if it wasn't the same?

Kanata gave a reassuring smile towards you, "Of course, it's your deepest secret, after all~" He sure made it sound easy. You, on the other hand, had to make a choice, what do you do? After a long thought process, you decide your fate, now or never. "I... I told the conch that I like you!" You gripped the hem of your shirt, head looking down, cheeks shaded a cute pink. All was silent between the two of you; the only sound was the gentle waves moving back and forth. Your fate was in the palm of the game of life; would it be unfair or fair?

Kanata gave you a bright smile. Was this a dream? Surely not, he wanted to hug you right then and there, and you know what? He did; Kanata quickly gave a warm yet gentle hug, stroking the top of your head in reassurance. "Fufu~ S/o and I share the same feelings then~ Why don't we go puka puka together?" You gently smiled and wrapped your arms around the taller boy; this isn't a dream, right? Euphoria coated your words, sweet like honey and gentle like a flower, "Mhm, we can go floating together!"

[littlesniggy]

My Man

Anon: Hii there hope ur having a great day . I just a Zoro female yandere reader and I think I'm hooked 😐 on yandere reader so can we have one with shanks and if its not to much to ask a part 2 of Zoro. You don't have to do the part 2 if u don't feel like it thought. [Female reader ]

Have a nice day💝

Hey Anon, thank you for requesting! I'm so happy that you liked my Zoro x Yandere! Reader! I don't know if I will make a part two of the Zoro one though. This one is not nsfw cause I think this way it's a little more sinister. It is also more of readers internal thought process than a lot of interaction with Shanks but maybe I'll write a part two (if people want to) that is nsfw.

Also warning for anyone who doesn't like reader not getting along with other crew members since this reader is jealous of literally anyone (Which is NOT normal behavior, for anyone wondering lol).

Warning: toxic behavior, mention of sex, reader needs to see someone with her issues, reader needs to chill, threats

Pairing: Shanks x Yandere! female reader

Word count: 1.6k

You were sitting at a beach together; warm breeze gently stroking your face, the soothing sound of the waves landing on shore and the cheerful laughter or the other crew members made for comfortable atmosphere. At least that should be the case. Your eyes were glued to you captain talking to Benn, booze in his hand and laughing his ass off to something his right-hand-man had said. Angrily, you clenched your teeth but tried hiding the fact that you were not pleased about this situation.

Why was he talking to Benn over there when he could sit and talk with you over here? You emptied your cup and filled it up immediately, wanting to drown this feeling of anger. Shanks didn’t seem to notice and kept telling story after story, much to his crew’s amusement. Fine, you thought, getting up from your place and staggering over to where he was. If he doesn’t want to come to me I’ll go to him.

The red haired male looked up when he saw you coming over, smiling his usual drunk and dorky smile and made you sit right next to him while draping his arm around you. “There you are! Why didn’t you come earlier? You were sitting there all by yourself, Y/n-chan!” he laughed, kissing your cheek with his wet lips, pulling you closer to him.

You giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder after giving it a small kiss as well. “I thought you would come over to me.” You answered, your sweet smile never leaving your lips. Shanks laughed even harder, his whole body shaking as he did. “You should’ve called me over then!” The rest of the crew joined in his laughter, making you feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. Internally, you would’ve loved to just punch each and every one of them for laughing at you but you needed to stay composed.

“Benn was just telling me how-“ but you cut him off, pulling his face towards you and kissing him as he was speaking. The man was surprised but didn’t complain, reciprocating your kiss which turned more and more heated by the second. The crew around your sheered you two on but you tuned them out. When you broke the kiss you looked into his eyes, then moved closer to his ear, biting at its shell. “Why don’t we find a more secluded spot and get some time alone?” you asked in a suggestive voice, feeling excited goosebumps on his skin. You just wanted to get him away from them. You wanted to have him for yourself!

.

.

.

It wasn’t that easy to get him away from his crew when you were on the ship. After all, he was the captain and it wouldn’t be good if he was missing the majority of the time. Each time he spoke with one of his men you just watched from afar, your stomach boiling with anger. You wouldn’t call it jealousy, this feeling – that was reserved for insecure people. You just wanted Shanks for yourself and yourself alone. That was something completely different!

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Benn approach you with his usual stern expression. You liked him the least because he was the one your man spent the majority of his time with besides you. And that pissed you off.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” he asked. You smiled at him, nodding your head as a confirmation. “Sure. What should be wrong?” you wanted to know, eying him secretly. “You just seemed a little upset, that’s all.” “I’m fine but thank you for asking.” Benn nodded and looked over to Shanks who just finished talking. You were sure Benn wanted to talk to his captain but you didn’t like this idea. So, before he could walk over to the red-haired male you skipped over to him yourself, giving Benn no chance to talk to him.

“I love you.” You said in a low voice before kissing him on the lips, creating a barrier between Shanks and Benn who stopped in his tracks behind you. Shanks chuckled and looked down at you, a gentle smile on his lips. You wished you could look at his face like this forever but you were sure Benn would start occupying his time if you didn’t play your cards right.

“At the last port I bought this new outfit and I wanted to show you how it looks….interested?” you asked, pressing your body to his and kissing his bare chest. Shanks smile grew wider and he was already pulling you towards his room. “Captain, can I talk to you for a minute?” you heard Benn call out for him but you made sure to push him inside his room and closing the door behind you. Benn could get lost for all you cared.

.

.

.

You knew Benn got suspicious by the way he behaved around you. He was colder than to others and was always watching you. You didn’t like it. Who does he think he is?

But you had enough when Shanks pulled you aside one day with a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Y/n-chan, we need to talk for a moment.” You stomach dropped and you followed him tenuously to his room. He sat you down but didn’t take a seat next to you on the bed. “W-what is it?” your voice was thin, looking up at you boyfriend in concern. Shanks rubbed his neck, not knowing where to start.

“You see….the crew is getting concerned that I might be spending a little too much time with you that I should be navigating and being their captain. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with you but I can see how I might be neglecting my duties as a captain.” He said, looking quite uncomfortable. Anger started to boil in the pit of your stomach but you didn’t show it. Instead, tears started forming in your eyes.

“A-are you breaking up with me?” you sobbed, your vision slightly blurry due to the tears. Shanks immediately crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his. “No! No, no, no, no, no! Not at all! That’s not what I meant!” he exclaimed, trying to calm you down. “Benn was just concerned about me and my job as a captain, that’s all. I wanna be there for you but you must understand that I also have to be there for my crew.”

That fucking bastard. How dare he try and push me away from Shanks?! You. Were. Furious. “I’m sorry I am clingy! I’m sorry I care about you! I’m sorry for being a burden to you! I’m sorr-!”

“Stop! No, don’t be sorry! You’re not a burden to me. Not at all! I love you, Y/n-chan! Stop saying something like this, okay?” he was really concerned; he didn’t want you to feel guilty about loving him and wanting to spend time with him. It was only natural, wasn’t it?

Shanks pulled you into his embrace, placing his chin on yours and stroking your back gently, letting you cry on his shoulder. He felt awful about this. He was making himself responsible for your crying. His presence helped you calm down along with his reassuring words that he was sorry and didn’t mean to hurt you. But you weren’t listing to him.

In your mind you were already making Benn pay for what he’d done. You wouldn’t be able to hurt, let alone kill this man but you would make damn sure he would never think about sabotaging your relationship with him again.

.

.

.

“How did you do it, Y/n?” you heard a familiar voice from beside you. You were sitting on a beach, watching the calming sea and hearing the screeching of the seagulls above you. You looked to the side, a warm smile on your face. Benn looked down at you with a frown, his body posture told you he was wary and on edge.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You replied, making him ‘tsk’. “We both know what you’re doing here, Y/n and I warn you. If you get in our, in his way of becoming the next pirate king I’ll make-“

“You’ll make me regret it? And how if I may ask?” Benn was silent, his eyes just boring into yours.

“What do you want to tell him? That I’m bad for him? That he maybe should consider breaking up with me cause I might get in his way?” you stood up, holding you chin up high with a smug smile.

“Cause that worked out brilliantly the last time, didn’t it?”

“You manipulated him.” He flat out stated but you just shrugged.

“Some tears here, some blowjob there, you gotta keep the man on his feet and interested in you. And I make damn well sure he will never get tired of me.” You said, slowly walking past him.

But before you were too far away, you turned around one last time. “Oh, and just so we’re clear. If you ever talk to him about me again in a negative way, maybe I’ll let it slip that a certain first mate tried to hit on me or even tried to force himself on me. I mean, what other reason would you have to make Shanks spend less time with me other than for you to have a chance?” you saw his face contort into a snarl, his fists clenching and unclenching. “He wouldn’t believe you.” You tilted your head to the side, the smile on your face not wavering.

“Wanna find out? He is my man and I don’t want anyone to come between us, understood?”

[sweetlavenderwritings]

Little to No Space

summary: tendou has a little crush on a certain someone, their straight faced manager that never reacts to his weird shenanigans. his best friend advises that they should get closer. 

-or, you get stuck in a locker with the guess monster.

a/n: this was based off an asmr i listened to a couple nights ago (you were hiding in a locker with a teacher of yours) it was kinda funny bc the one who  voiced it was oikawa’s official va. anyways, take whatever this is lol.

pairing/s: tendou satori x reader

wc: 2 147 (whoops)

tags: crack, comedy(?), humor, ur literally just in a funny situation lol, nsfw implication if u squint

-ꦼ———▸  crossposted on ao3

⋅. ♪ .⋅  Loving Tendou Playlist

“You need to stop staring at our manager and actually talk to her Satori.”  Ushijima’s deep voice broke him out of his trance, catching his attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wakatoshi-kun.” He deflected. Okay, maybe he did tend to stare at you. But he swears he didn’t do it that much.

Ushijima rolled his eyes at that, “I may not be the brightest when it comes people-”

“You got that right.” He snickered while putting his gym clothes away.

“As I was saying, I at least know she isn’t the least bothered by you,” he shut his locker door with a firm bang, interrupting his musing for a moment, “we can all see how she isn’t fazed by whatever antics you flung at her.”

“But that’s just because she’s just like you!” His best friend raised his brows at him. “Not completely, but she’s uhh, I don’t know-stoic. Straight faced and doesn’t say anything much unless necessary.”

“I’m not stoic.” 

“Sure you aren’t.” Has he really not noticed?

“So you’re implying that you can be close to her?” He knew his best friend can be quite obtuse sometimes, but where did that come from?

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, where did even get that idea?” He turned his attention to his duffel bag, already done with the conversation.

But it seems Ushijima wasn’t, “You said she was just like me, even if it was just a bit. And since we’re close, that means you could be with her as well.”

“You’re grasping at short straws here Ushiwaka,” he teased. “Why do you seem so persistent to get me to talk to her?”

“Because I think she might be one of the few people that would actually tolerate your weird personality, rather than shun you for it like most people would.” Oh, that was actually helpful. He knew Ushijima rarely spoke, but whenever he did, it was always something meaningful and helpful.

Ushijima scratched at his neck, looking around the locker room looking for something.

“Uhh, watcha looking for there buddy?”

“I’m missing my pair of socks.” Ushijima groaned. Suddenly, all his previous thoughts of him being meaningful was diminished within a second. 

“That’s the fourth time this week ‘Toshi.”

“I know, but for some reason they don’t end up where they’re supposed to be.” He was pouting, the redhead could tell. You wouldn’t actually see it until you looked closely.

He had to reassure their captain before he drones about ads he read in today’s newspaper. He was not interested in discounts held for sock stores. “We’ll ask the janitors tomorrow, okay? Don’t fret about it.”

Satisfied with his answer, Ushijima nodded. They both grabbed their bags then turned to leave, until they heard a knock at the door.

“Uhm, excuse me. Is Tendou-kun here by any chance?” Speak of the devil...

He stilled, clearly not expecting for you to look for him. He wondered how long you’ve been there, hoping you haven’t heard a single word from their conversation that just happened to be about you.

Ushijima looked at him, a faint smirk curved at the corners of his lips. He gave him a look as if to say, this is your chance.

Without consulting him if he even wanted to answer, he strode towards the door and opened it without warning, causing you to jump back in surprise. The basket of jerseys nearly fell from your hands in shock. 

He mentally slapped himself in the face. Way to go Wakatoshi, scare off our manager.

“Satori’s right here,” He waved to him, standing still like a deer in the headlights. “I must go.” He walked past you, leaving no space for you to even start a conversation with him.

“Oh, uhm alright. Thank you Ushijima-san.” You waved to Ushijima before to turning to him, looking at him with a blank expression.

“I’m sorry, it seems I interrupted you on your way home. But I promise this will be quick.” You said with a flat tone. You reached down on the freshly laundered basket of jerseys, fumbling with the different colored fabrics as you looked for something. 

With a victorious ‘ah’, you held up a familiar pair of socks. 

“I kept seeing these somewhere in your locker rooms whenever I clean after practice. I usually just place them on the benches but this time it was on basket with the rest of the jerseys so I took the liberty to wash them.” He took them from your hands, fingers lightly brushing when he grab ahold of the very socks his best friend was pouting about. He jolted, feeling a sensation from the minimal contact.

Either you ignored him or didn’t notice, which was probably the latter, you moved on to place the basket on a corner. 

‘You need to stop staring at our manager and actually talk to her Satori.’

“So, how are you managing so far manager-chan?” He hoped his voice didn’t reveal how nervous he was to be alone with you. 

In truth, he liked being with you at any chance he could get. It was fun flinging non-nonsensical shit at you, just to get a reaction. It was like a challenge for him really, wanting nothing more than to see you flustered or even better, laugh at his jokes just for once.

You never looked irked or disgusted by his whole demeanor, which was something he appreciated a lot. He hoped you never would, fearing that it might be the inevitable truth he wasn’t willing to accept.

That he was a monster no one could truly understand.

“I’m still afraid of getting hit by a ball every time Ushijima-san serves, but other than that I’m doing fine.” You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, exhaustion evident on your face. “You’re not going home, Tendou-san? It’s already late, I suggest you hurry now so you can rest easy for tomorrow’s practice.”

He smirks, suddenly feeling a mood for a good teasing. “Dawww, is our dear little manager concerned for the resident Guess Monster?” He quirked a brow as he leered at you with a teasing grin. 

Unperturbed, you tilted your head, looking a bit puzzled. “Of course I am. I am your manager after all, isn’t it my job to look after the team?”

“Don’t be shy, you can just say you like me, manager-chaaan~” He thought really shouldn’t tease you like that but he really can’t help himself.

What happened next surprised him the most.

He figured you’d wave off his teasing like always, roll your eyes then move on with your day. But instead, he spots the blushing of your cheeks. Something he didn’t expect from you at all.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops at the sounds of footsteps nearing the locker room.

Shit. If the team saw you alone with him in the locker rooms at this hour it’ll be the death of him. You wouldn’t have cared, but he knows they’ll hold it over his head and tease him relentlessly, insinuating that there’s something going on between the two of you.

With a hushed ‘Quick!’ he grabs your arm then pulls you into a vacant locker. He shuts the door in haste, making a loud bang that makes him wince. 

“Tendou what’re you-” he shuts you up with a hand covering your mouth. He looks at you pleadingly as he zips up his lips, urging you to stay quiet. You nod with his hand still covering your lips. 

“Hurry up Semi! We’re gonna be late!” Reon’s voice booms loudly as they enter the room, causing the both of you to jump in surprise.

“Wait a damn minute will you? I just forgot my wallet.” The sound of a locker opening fills in the sudden silence. He waits with a bated breath hoping they’ll leave soon.

But it seems that wasn’t the case. 

“Say... Isn’t that Tendou’s duffel bag?” You both hear Shirabu’s voice ask with uncertainty. Tendou freezes, unsure what to do.

There’s a muffled noise of shuffling. “Yeah, it’s his alright. It’s his jacket draped over it.”

“Then why is it still here? Shouldn’t he have left by now?”

“Didn’t we pass by Ushijima just earlier?” Shit. Shit. Shit.

The locker you were both hiding in was getting hotter by the minute. He feels a sweat trickle down his neck as he tries not to breathe loudly as to not grab attention. 

When Ushijima told him to get closer to you, he surely didn’t mean this!

Your soft hands reach to take his off your mouth. He mouths a soft ‘sorry’ but you shake your head softly, not minding his mistake in the slightest. With the ongoing conversation about his whereabouts outside he distracts himself with little details he begins to notice.

Like how you smelled of baby powder and faint deodorant, or how there are strands of your hair sticking to your exposed neck from your ponytail. He tries hard not to think about how close you were. Your shoulders pressed against his chest, head just below his chin, and your hips just right where his-

“Tendou-kun,” he hears you whisper. He cranes his just a bit, trying to get a look at your face. “Your phone is bumping my hip, I know there’s not much space but can you please move it a bit?” 

Phone? What phone? He was pretty sure he left it in his bag━

“Sorry.” He apologizes meekly, wiggling his hips away from you as he desperately wills his sudden hard on to calm down. This locker was gonna be the death of him soon if he stays here any longer. 

He thanks whatever deity is at work above for your obliviousness. A blessing in disguise he’s really thankful at the moment.

“Eh, why’re we wasting time here? He probably just went to the bathroom.” Semi cuts off as he grabs his wallet. Tendou thanks the ashen blond silently, promising not to tease him just for a day.

He hears the door shut. He waits until the footsteps are completely gone, then sighs in relief when no one comes back.

“Phew, that was a close call. Who knows what might’ve happened if they found us here.” He lets out a laugh, “we can leave now, [y/n]-chan.”

Then he’s looking at you, head ducked so he couldn’t see much of your face. But he peers between the strands of your hair and finally notices how flustered you look.

He smirks. “[y/n]-chan?” 

For once in your life, you try to avoid his eyes.“O-oh! Tendou-kun, are they gone yet?” 

“If I knew better manager-chan~ Judging by your flustered face, I would assume you actually wanted to stay here with me.”

Your eyes widen like saucers. “No! It’s just that it’s cramped in here, it got hot so I am blushing for different reasons!” Your composure was breaking by the minute, hands flailing in exaggeration as you try to explain in defense. 

He barks out a laugh. “Manager-chan, I was just kidding! Calm down for me, hm?” You don’t reply.

“Alright, I’m sorry for teasing you.” He says as he reaches for the knob, “let’s just get out of here-”

You shoot your hand on his wrist, surprising the both of you. “Uh... about what you just said.”

He waits for you to continue. With a deep breath you try to finish your sentence. “I don’t mind, being here with Tendou-kun.... that’s all.”

The message clicks in his brain. I like you Tendou-kun.

“Oh.” He replied numbly. He was sure he must’ve looked stupid with the face he was making, still awestruck at what you just admitted.

You giggle, a sound he finds himself emitting to his memory.

“You’re weird as ever Tendou-kun,” the look of adoration you gave him nearly made him choke. “But that’s fine, I like that about you.” 

Two confessions all at once? Was this a dream? Boy, he surely was gonna panic about this to Ushijima later, not that he’d be any of help.

Waving away the butterflies in his stomach, he ruffles your hair. “You’re too full of surprises today [y/n]-chan. Someday you’re gonna give me a heart attack if you just suddenly give me these cute faces without warning.”

He feels himself smile wide at another bashful look you give him.

“Now let’s get out of here.” He twists the knob inside but it doesn’t budge. Confused, he tries to twist it another way but it still doesn’t move. He struggles with it for a minute until he gives up. 

It wouldn’t open.

“Uhh... Tendou-kun, I think we might have to call the others.” He hears you say tentatively. 

“Sure, do you have your phone with you?”

You pat your pockets for a second. “Oh, I must’ve left it in my bag. How about we use your phone instead?” 

“...” 

[angelsfalling16]

okay okay i can’t think of anything specific but like hurt comfort for deniall? i can never get enough of that ship and i really like the idea of that trope for them!! like something where devs upset about all the attention baz has ever gotten and how he feels like such a background character in life and nialls like ohhoho how would you feel if i told you i’ve been in l or with you since we were like 10. idk just spit balling anything you want to do tbh i love all ur work so!!!

a/n: As soon as I saw this ask, the ideas started turning in my mind, and I really liked the idea that you had, so I ran with it. I love writing deniall fics because it allows me to write different types of stories, which is really interesting. Thanks so much for Sending me this prompt, Nonnie!! I hope you like it! :) The title is from the song Story of Us by Taylor Swift

Read it on ao3

***

Niall

Dev is having a meltdown. Like a full on lying on the floor with moody music blasting through the speakers meltdown. This isn’t the first time he’s acted like this, and the fact that he didn’t come find me to tell me what’s wrong means it can’t be too bad, so I decide to ignore him for the moment until he’s ready to talk.

He reminds me so much of Baz in the way of his dramatics at this moment, but if this were Baz, I would be backing way off for fear of being burnt to a crisp for the sole reason of being in the same room as him. Dev on the other hand is all bark and no bite. It's kind of adorable.

I move around the room, pulling books from my school bag and tidying the room a bit, pretending not to notice the boy lying in the middle of the floor or the fact that I think my ears might be bleeding from the volume of this music.

I’m walking over to pick up a stray shirt on the floor when Dev grabs my ankle, nearly causing me to fall flat on my face.

I sigh. "Alright. What gives, Dev?"

"Did you know that Baz is older than me?" He mumbles into the carpet, and I briefly wonder when the last time was that we thought to vacuum in here.

"What?" I ask, wondering what this has to do with him lying on the floor.

"Yeah. By three months. For three months, I was the only grandchild, the only nephew. I was beloved by everyone. Then Baz came into the world and all of that went away."

"Uhh..." I say, still not seeing the point. "There's no way you even remember those three months."

"No but it’s still true."

"Okay?" I say slowly. Where the hell is he going with this?

He rolls over on his back but dramatically throws an arm over his face so that I can’t really make out his expression. I’m not sure whether he’s being serious or just really melodramatic, but realizing we're going to be here a while, I plop down on the floor next to him, using my magic to turn the music off, sending us into a silence that sounds almost as deafening as the music was.

"Do you ever feel like you're a background character in someone else's story?” Dev asks finally. “Like nothing you ever do will be important enough to be the main character?”

I think about it for a moment. "Not really. Why?"

"It's like my whole life I've been living in the shadows, a few steps behind Baz. No matter what I did or how deeply I was hurting, it could never compare to whatever was going on with Baz. It began to feel like a competition, one that I never had a chance of winning."

"Life isn't supposed to be a competition. The way you feel or hurt is valid even if someone else has it worse. It’s your life and your experiences and that is what's important."

"I know but it’s still hard not to feel like a background character."

He really sounds distraught over this, and I wonder how long he’s been holding all of this in. I want to reach out and take his hand in mine but decide that that would be stupid and keep my hands to myself.

"You know what I think?” I say. “I think everyone is the writer of their own story. They get to make their own choices and decide how much they allow themselves to be affected by others. They can’t change other people's stories, but they can be a part of them. So yeah, it’s possible you're a background character in Baz's story, but what about in your story?"

He slides his arm down to rest on his chest so that he can stare at me. "When did you get to be so wise, Niall?"

I shrug self-consciously, hoping he doesn’t notice the blush creeping up onto my face. He looks away to stare up at the ceiling, like all of the answers will be up there.

"Okay. So say that that’s true and you can write your own story, what could I do to make it my own?"

I hum noncommittally, thinking about it. I know what I would do if it were me. I would tell my best friend I'm in love with him and have been since we were like 11 and first thrown into this tiny room together.

I can’t say that though because it would ruin everything. Maybe I will in a few months when we leave Watford for good and go our separate ways.

He's looking at me expectantly now, so I try to come up with an acceptable answer.

"If I were trying to make my story my own, I think I would try to figure out what's holding me back and find a way to change it. I would find a way to take charge of it and not wait around for things to happen to me."

He tilts his head thoughtfully at me and a strand of hair falls down in front of his eye. My fingers itch to reach out and brush it away but I ball my hand into a fist to keep myself from doing something stupid.

"So, what's holding you back then Niall?"

My face heats even more as I stutter out a response. "N-nothing. We weren’t talking about m-me."

I press my lips firmly together as if to prove my point.

The corner of Dev's mouth turns up in a small smile, and it looks like his dark mood is almost gone. Something else has grabbed his attention. I just wish that thing wasn't me.

"We should go to dinner," I say in an attempt to distract him. I start to stand up, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back down. He doesn’t let go and now we're sitting face to face in the middle of our room.

"You have a secret," he accuses. "You're terrible at keeping secrets, so this must be big."

I swallow hard, my heart beating hard against my rib cage. "It's nothing. It's stupid."

"Come on. You can tell me. I'm your best friend."

And there it is. The reason I could never tell him how I really feel: I don’t want to lose his friendship. It means too much to me. He means too much to me.

"It’s nothing," I say again. "It’s not an important part of my story." The lie causes me physical pain as the words leave my mouth, and I want to take them back. I hate lying to him.

He looks like he wants to push the matter further, but he simply lets go of my arm and shrugs.

"Fine. You don’t have to tell me." He says it flippantly, like it really doesn’t matter, which for some reason makes me hurt even more.

My skin feels cold where his hand just was, and suddenly it feels like there’s too much room between us. He was wrong. I'm not terrible at keeping secrets. I just don't like keeping them, especially from him,which is why I decide that it's time to stop keeping this one.

"Dev wait," I say even though he hasn't moved yet. "I'll tell you."

"You don’t have to," he says softly. "I didn't mean to push you."

I shake my head. "No, you didn't. I want to tell you."

"Okay."

I drop my gaze down to my hands in my lap but then I decide that I need to look at him when I say this. I have to see his reaction, no matter how bad it is.

"You said that you feel like a background character but I know that's not true. It couldn’t possibly be true because you're such a big part of my life."

He starts to say something, but I shake my head to stop him. If I don’t say this now, I don’t think I'll ever be able to say it. I take a deep breath and continue.

"From the moment the Crucible pulled us together and brought you into my life, I knew my life would never be the same. As soon as I saw your crooked smile and floppy hair falling into your eyes, I knew that I was gone for. I may not have known what it meant just yet, but I knew having you in my life was all I would ever want." His expression is unreadable as I say all of this, so I just keep going, trying not to worry about what he must be thinking. "You can't possibly be a background character because you’re a main character in my story. You’re one of the most special things about my story, and you’re one of the things that keeps it going, gives it purpose."

"Niall, what exactly are you saying?" Dev asks slowly.

A small part of me wants to say that he's just my best friend, but I can’t go back now. I have to see this all the way through.

"I’m in love with you, Dev. I have loved you for years and--mmph."

I'm cut off when he presses his lips to mine and kisses me with so much force that it nearly knocks me over.

He pulls away just as quickly, his face red and unable to look at me.

"Sorry. I just--. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Niall, I... I love you, too." He looks back up at me when he says it, a smile playing on his lips.

My brain stalls out at that, but I can feel my face break out into a giant, stupid grin. I can’t believe it. I can't believe Dev actually feels the same way about me.

It’s my turn to kiss him, and I actually do knock into him with enough force to make him land on his back on the carpet. Then I kiss him like my life depends on it.

He wraps his arms around me, and we lie tangled up together kissing for a long time.

"I think dinner is over now," Dev says when we finally break apart, and I laugh.

I roll off of him so that were both lying on our backs together, side by side. His hand finds my and I interlace our fingers.

We stay like that for a few minutes before there's a knock at the door.

"Are you two alright in there? You missed dinner." It's Baz.

Dev sits up quickly, and I join him.

"Remember," I say quietly. You’re not a background character. You are so much more than that."

He smiles and says, "I know. Thanks for helping me see that." Then louder, he says, "We're fine. We just got a little...distracted."

I can feel my face warm as I stand up, hoping I don’t look too much like I was just rolling around on the floor with my roommate.

"Oh. Is it alright if I come in?"

Dev looks at me and I shrug. "Sure. I have some snacks hidden in my wardrobe. We can eat in here."

"Alright thanks," Baz says when I let him

The three of us sit on the floor together passing snacks around and making small talk about our day. Dev keeps throwing knowing glances my way, and I try not to blush as I think about all that has transpired on this carpet in the last hour and a half.

I wonder what Baz would say if I just reached over and took Dev’s hand right now, but I don’t think I'm ready for him to know just yet. I am not ashamed of this. I just want it to stay between me and Dev for a little while longer.

It will be our little secret. Our special, amazing secret.

I can't keep the smile off my face, and I can tell Dev knows exactly what I’m thinking about, but he doesn’t say anything until Baz has left for his own room.

"So..." He says.

"So..." I repeat.

He smiles at me and my heart melts. Merlin, I love him.

"What does this mean?" He asks, and his face flushes, giving away how nervous he was about asking that question. I'm surprised he even has to ask.

"For me, it means I want to be your boyfriend."

"I want that, too."

We kiss again and it's perfect.

It’s like one of those big moments in a story when everything comes together, and all the pieces fall into place. This is what everything has been building to, and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined.

This is not the end of our story, merely the end of this chapter in it.

[stewyonmolly]

hi! idk if ur taking prompts or anything but can you write something abt peter being (selectively) mute? it can come from him being autistic or as a coping mechanism or however! even better if tony can help overcome it. thank u sm❣️

lemme just preface with the fact that my experiences are not universal and that i didn’t even understand that i’m literally selectively mute until less than a week ago. nevertheless, i hope this fulfills what you wanted <3

---

Peter doesn’t mean to be doing it.

It’s just that he’s been laying flat atop his sheets for almost two hours now, letting the idle spin of the white ceiling fan raise chills on his legs where they jab out of his too-loose boxers.

He’s got an incessant humming at the back of his neck though the rest of him is cavernous and cool. His eyes hurt. He can’t sleep.

He’s snapping one of MJ’s hair ties against the inside of his wrist. It’s supposed to make him come back into his body. It isn’t working. It feels like he’s up there bobbing on the breeze from the fan. Like suspension as a concept is tenuous and there is no webbing and Peter has been freefalling for ages and he still can’t see the ground.

He’d rather splat. He’d rather hit the ground, guts and grime and all, than keep hovering.

Johnny is off doing alien shit. MJ has an internship. May is on a shift. Ned hasn’t answered his texts.

There’s nothing holding him here.

It’s all too easy to let go.

Peter’s vision slips out of focus.

Time moves like ribbon curls and spilled honey; like sanded wood planks and fingerprints smudged on window panes; like the starchy water left after boiling potatoes and wet ink bleeding across the page.

It is all angles and pains and endless fields of undulating wheat, and then it isn’t.

Focus is painfully sharp. He immediately wants to retreat back into himself.

There’s a warm hand on his wrist. Peter fumbles the hair tie. It snaps onto fingers that are not his, rather than the thin skin over his palm.

“Stop that,” says Tony’s gruff voice, “quit it, kid, stop.”

Peter blinks. He turns towards Tony. He doesn’t know why Tony is in his apartment.

“School called,” Tony says, as if he reads minds. “You didn’t show up. They called May, and she called me to come and check on you since her shift isn’t up until twelve.”

Peter looks idly at Tony.

Tony’s hand skims over Peter’s forehead so lightly that Peter isn’t sure it happened. Peter thinks Tony’s palm is shaking. Peter thinks Tony’s eyes look heavy.

“One of those days?” Tony says.

Peter breathes. Somewhere inside his chest the answer is pulsating—it’s grabbing onto his ribs and rattling them like prison bars—but nothing. Nothing rises to his mouth.

Something, some great and primordial It, stoppers his throat, makes him stupid. Helpless. He fucking hates being helpless. All he does is try not to be.

He closes his eyes when his lower lip trembles. His throat is painfully tight. He hates feeling like this. He doesn’t get it. Nothing happened. Why does he feel like he’s sunk a foot into the foam of his mattress.

“Alright,” Tony says. “Hey, okay, I’m here now. We can fix this. I know we can. You know the first step? Because I do and I’m willing to share my answer with the class. Here it is: sit up. That’s the first thing. That’s always the first step. Come on, up, let’s sit up.”

Tony’s hand squeezes Peter’s shoulder three times, fast. Peter pushes himself up. He must. Because he’s sitting. His elbows feel strange. Too big. Too bendy.

“Hey, look at that,” says Tony. “You nailed it. Olympic gold worthy. I’ll contact the YMCA. You need a minute? Let’s take a minute. Step one, done. You earned a minute, I’m—here, scoot. Move that leg, I’m coming in hot like a mofo. Do the kids say that? I think I heard it on a TV show once and, frankly, it baffled me.”

Tony wedges himself onto Peter’s mattress and leans back against the headboard.

Peter looks at him, all decked in a massive hoodie and ratty sweatpants. His face is strange and blurry. Warped like he’s watching the bottom of a swimming pool writhe. Peter feels like he doesn’t recognize Tony. Peter feels like he would recognize Tony blind and backwards and upside down. He does not understand this feeling. It’s infuriating. He wants to reach down his throat and into his chest and pull it out like those clown napkins neatly tied in brightly-colored knots.

Tony sighs, settling against Peter’s pillows.

He gives a good show. As if this is normal. Any of this at all.

Tony turns his head towards Peter, then pats Peter’s cold kneecap.

He turns away again.

Peter thinks that if some magic spell could summon from his chest the sound that has been pushed so deep it would never otherwise be heard, it would be a guttural, fractured scream.

His finger loops around the hair tie.

Before he can snap it, Tony’s hand stops him. Cuffs around Peter’s wrist, all calluses and divots and swirled prints.

Peter can feel every rise and fall against his skin.

“How are we doing during our little interlude?” Tony says. “More interlude? Less interlude? Terminated interlude? All of the above are fine. Just keep me updated. A memo on my desk will suffice.”

Peter clenches his jaw.

“Oh, he’s mad. Okay. I can give you time. How about the next step for today is a shower? You look like you’re fucking freezing. Go take a warm shower. I’ll do that fancy thoughtful thing where I throw a towel in the dryer for you so it’s all toasty when you get out. Remember to wash behind your ears and everything.”

Tony slides off the mattress and stands beside it. He stares at Peter, open, patient.

Peter pushes himself off the mattress. The floor beneath his feet feels like a memory.

Tony says, “Hey, look at you! Nice. We’re making shit happen, folks. Into the bathroom with you, young one. Throw your towel out the door. I’ll go fix it up nice.”

Peter follows the instructions at half-pace.

In the shower, he finds himself sitting under the stream. He does not remember why he sat. He doesn’t feel lightheaded. Or nauseous. Or anything else at all.

He finds his footing. Stands. Soaps himself.

The garbled sound of the water calms him, even if he feels matted eight layers deep.

When he gets out, the towel is waiting beside a stack of his clothes. All of them are warmed.

He gets dressed and pads out of the bathroom.

Tony is standing at the stove. He’s cooking something. Peter cannot tell what it is.

Tony snorts. “You tuck your sweatpants into your socks? God, I shouldn’t be surprised. You do seem like the sock-tucking type. I bet you single-cuff your jeans or something. Fold your underwear in thirds. Hang your sweaters.”

The worst thing is that Peter has the comeback ready. Like a normal person? he wants to say. Like a normal person? sits on the back of his tongue. He can’t say the words. Neurotypical who? Not him.

God, even joking in his own freaking head sounds discordant.

Peter pushes himself up onto the counter and sits, legs dangling.

Tony continues to cook. Every once in a while, Tony will start to hum, then stop. He’ll get halfway into a verse and then quit as if he forgets the words.

Peter cannot pick up a single melody.

Tony is rather suddenly before him, plate in hand. It’s laden with eggs and turkey sausage. Two slices of toast. A peeled orange.

Tony peeled an orange without Peter noticing. Without smelling, even.

Peter takes the plate. It wavers in his hands but he rights it.

Tony does not begin to clean the cookware until Peter has stabbed a sausage with his fork and begun to chew it.

His mouth feels like it’s full of glue. His whole existence is a cotton ball. Fucking Christ. He’s so tired of feeling like this.

The next time Tony taps him, it’s on the elbow.

Peter starts.

Tony catches his plate before it can slip off his lap.

Tony taps Peter’s temple twice. “You’ve been—out there for a while. That place I can’t follow you. Food is getting cold. I expect it all to be finished. I know I’m the cool parent but I will not budge on this one.”

Peter stares.

“I know,” Tony says, voice breaking. “God, I know, Pete. It’s okay. Just some breakfast. It’s fine. You can do that, I know you can.”

Peter knows he can too. He knows he can, and he’s pissed because he feels like the crater punched into the earth’s crust that wiped out the dinosaurs, all smoking and empty and awful. He can finish a plate of fucking eggs. Toast. He loves oranges. He can do this.

It feels like he can’t. It feels like an undertaking. The epic sort.

He grits his teeth, stabs a chunk of egg, and does it. It’s like pulling himself along by the ends of his nails, but on the inside.

When he’s finished, he feels sick rather than bolstered.

But Tony takes his plate, grinning, and washes it for him. Whistling from between his teeth, now.

Peter’s finger hooks the hair tie. He knows that if he snaps it hard enough he’ll come back.

He does it once, twice. Nothing. He hears the slap against his skin. It feels like nothing more than a pinch.

“Hey, stop that,” Tony says, hands wet and sudsy as he takes the tie off Peter’s wrist.

Peter blinks at his skin. It’s mottled red, lightly bruised. He hadn’t realized.

It was supposed to fix him.

“I’m keeping this. I’ll personally give it back to Michelle. This isn’t May’s. It’s not May’s, right? She only uses scrunchies. She’s a child of the flowers, bless her hippie heart. Okay. Pocketing it. Let me finish the dishes. I need May to love me. Okay. Be right back.”

Tony pats Peter’s knee before he goes.

Peter watches the wet spot from Tony’s hand grow on the fabric of his sweats.

Tony brings him to the couch. The couch is not big. It is deep and too soft and sometimes, if you sit wrong, you get a butthole piercing from the springs.

Tony wraps him in a blanket. And then another. One is a quilt Ben made. The other is a blanket so enormous and thick that Peter is faintly sure it will smother him.

But he lets Tony wrap him up. Because he has no other choice. And because a little part of him—one tenacious bit who hasn’t lost hope—deeply wants Tony to fix this for him, and trusts that Tony knows what he’s doing.

Tony settles onto the couch next to Peter, tossing an arm across the back. His fingertips scratch Peter’s neck, along the knots of his spine.

“We could watch something,” Tony suggests. “I tend to think watching something after eating aids the digestive process. Gets the systems moving. Sound good? Let’s watch something fun. Let’s watch Ferris Bueller. God, that poor bastard. What mother would name their child Ferris? And he’s such a successful kid too. That’s overcoming adversity right there.”

Tony fumbles with the remote. He pulls up the movie. Peter sits in his blanket nest.

The film starts with the iconic monologue sequence.

Something in Peter settles seeing it. It’s so familiar to him, he could recite the whole script end-to-end.

Not now, probably. But usually.

It itches in his chest.

Tony hums rather than laughs during movies. A soft noise with his lips pressed together. A light smile.

He seems so calm. At ease. Peter doesn’t get it. Tony is always freaking out, especially when there’s absolutely nothing wrong, but not now.

Peter can’t make himself speak and Tony isn’t freaking out. That’s weird.

But maybe it’s good. Maybe. Because Tony acting normal might make Peter’s subconscious feel normal and then everything will click back into place and Peter can stop being so helpless and pissed and nonexistent.

It doesn’t reboot his subconscious. What it does is make him sleepy. The brush of Tony’s fingers, the familiar cadence of the movie—Peter drifts, and this time, he sleeps.

He’s shaken awake what feels like hours later.

He opens a bleary eye. Everything is moving.

A great mane of braided hair whacks him across the face.

He sputters.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Sorry, baby, just me, joining in on the cuddle sesh. Don’t worry, I changed out of my scrubs first. I know how much you hate being near my dirty work scrubs. Which astounds me, considering Ben saw you sneak a pizza crust out of the trash once when you were a kid.”

She settles next to him on the far side, where a snoring Tony isn’t.

She wraps her arm around Peter’s waist, strong and lithe and familiar, and Peter feels it.

It makes his eyes ache.

He swallows and swallows. He turns to May. He presses a firm kiss to her cheek.

“I love you too, honey,” she says, poking her nose into his neck. They’ve never needed words to communicate anyway.

He closes his eyes, warm enough to bake, surrounded on every side with stifling love.

He sleeps, chasing the sun across the sky, and when he wakes again, he wakes.

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fifteen (Part Three)

Previous chapter here

Warnings: language, some suggestive sexuality, and some good old angst

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue Thanks for the support!

Notes: Hope you enjoy this, and apologies for my poor spelling and grammar.

Chapter Fifteen: Part Three

She woke up earlier than him.

It was half six when she stepped into the shower having given up on her sleep. It had been a hot, rather uncomfortable night and the aircon barely broke a chill through the suite.

It was taking some getting used to, this sharing a bed, especially with someone who insisted on snuggling into the back of her. Sarah wasn’t much of a cuddler and Chris knew this. She would much rather wrap herself up in blankets and drift off to sleep but it didn’t stop him from slowly inching his body towards her throughout the night. It was a case of putting up with it for fear of falling off the end and breaking something.

She barely moved under the shower head except to allow the water to rain down on her skin and hopefully liven her up for the day. She was anxious, more anxious than she anticipated she would be. She was always able to keep her cool under test conditions, probably why she became a nurse in the first place, but something about this particular exam was hitting differently and she wasn’t sure why.

She eventually got dressed and went back into the bedroom to sort her hair. He would be annoyed she’d woken up before him now that he had decided he was single-handedly responsible for all her breakfast needs that week. Admittedly, though, it felt nice being looked after in this way. Really, really nice. It was like having her own PA.

He was sleeping flat on his stomach, one leg poking out from underneath the covers. He had wrapped his arms around a pillow and his low snore was rumbling through the warm air in the room. It was confusing how anyone could find that position comfortable and not wake up having lost all feeling down one side of his body. His back muscles were relaxed but still resembled something Michelangelo could only dream of painting. He was, in all honesty, a ridiculous specimen of a man. A man that told her he wanted her to get some good rest and sleep as much as possible. Who had closed her textbooks, ran her a hot bath, and climbed in behind her to massage her shoulders. Potential lingered in the air last night but he was going to stick to his word and not get in the way of her work. He told her he was glad he was with her and happily settled for stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Her head was lying on his chest but when she felt his heartbeat settle and his arms loosen around her, she softly rolled away from him like he knew she inevitably would.

At various times, they found themselves getting into a very comfortable and, dare she say it, enjoyable routine. It was surprisingly easy to do so when the door was locked. He had used the hotel gym to give her some peace for a few hours each morning. He had kept her fed and hydrated when she would have most likely forgotten both having had her nose stuck in her books for hours on end. He had watched daytime television in the bedroom and failed to hide his tears when a charity had rebuilt an elderly man’s home following a flood. When she asked, he had helped to test her using the notes she’d prepped for the exam. He read scripts as soon as they had landed in his inbox. His team was politely shocked at his new-found efficiency.

When they weren’t fooling around on the sofa in the evenings, she had taken a break to read over some lines with him. While at first he was very kind and promising with his notes, especially with some kissing scenes he’d invented, they both knew she was definitely not suited for a life in front of the camera.

“Don’t overthink it too much. Just go with your instincts.” he encouraged her to continue reading with him for fun but she had given up when he had fallen into a fit of laughter as she attempted to arrest him.

“Yeh, no, my brain doesn’t really work like that.” she responded, holding up her hands in defeat.

“Please? I’m sorry, I promise I won’t laugh.” he pleaded. “Again.”

It was easy to get used to having him around but she finally realised how and why women fell for him hard. There was something very childlike about him, something innocent even if he was anything but when they dimmed the lights. He was gentler and quieter than she knew him to be, less sure of himself at times than perhaps the impression he wilfully gave away to the public. She heard the criticisms he levelled at himself when reading his lines out loud and saw first-hand the pressure he placed upon himself where his career was concerned. But for every committed step them took forwards as they learned more about each other, even after all these years, something started to pull her back.

“Hey...”

She was broken from her contemplation by his groggy drawl. He turned on to his side and laid his hand in the space she had previously occupied. One eye had yet to open and his hair was pointing in all different directions.

“It’s far too early to get up, y’know.” He stretched his arm out to connect with her leg curled up underneath her as she looked back at him. “Oh shit. I forgot. Is it really this morning already?”

She stayed looking at him from where she was sat before nodding. “I should only be a couple of hours but I’ll swing by that bakery down the street and pick us up something nice for lunch. They do those almond croissants you like.”

He sighed, taking her in and smiling. She’d tied her hair in a side plait and was wearing a slightly fluffy striped sweater that he wanted to run his hands over. “Yeh, that sounds really nice, Bernette.” He didn’t miss a beat. “I could meet you afterwards? We could go for a walk through the Park?”

“I might just want to come home and cry.”

“Hey now, you’re gonna ace this test. I can feel it.” He was fully awake now, purposeful in his movements towards her to help put her mind at ease. “if I was your patient, I would be ecstatic to have you working on me.”

She chuckled to herself. He was always so confident expressing himself. She was jealous of that. She wished she could be as confident and as sure of herself, like the rest of the family were. It was one thing in her that stood out in stark contrast.

“What have you eaten? I didn’t hear any room service.” He probed, a serious look now glazing over his features.

“Oh it’s fine, I’ll grab something on the way. I’m not all that hungry to tell you the truth.” She tried to brush off his protests but it only served to make him more concerned.

“You’ve got time yet, let me order something up.” He made for the phone but was stopped as she got up from the bed. “You need to eat something, Sarah. You’re gonna be sat there for hours. I don’t want you passing out.”

“Alright, thank you, Dad!” she laughed. “It’s fine! This is not my first exam. I know what it’s like and I promise you I will get something from Starbucks on somewhere else on the way.”

“You’re going now?!”

“Yeh, I could do with a walk to clear my hear. I always found that helpful when back in school.” She was talking from the lounge as she tried to locate her boots. Something else Shanna had chucked into her suitcase without her realising, but she wasn’t as annoyed with this one.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll come with you.”

She re-entered the bedroom to find him rifling through his bag for new clothes. “Why?”

“Because I wanna support my girlfriend! Jesus!” He was sharper than he had intended but carried on with his search for fresh boxers, throwing out some old stuff in haste like he was searching for long lost buried treasure.

She just looked at him. He’d never used that word before. They’d never talked about it. He acknowledged her silence and stopped to look at her, jeans in hand. He saw her awkward stance and instantly felt like shit. This was not the morning to lay this on her. He knew the very next words out of his mouth would determine how they moved forward.

He paused before chucking his jeans on the chair in front of him. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she responded but she wasn’t sure it was.

“If you wanna head off, that’s totally cool. I’ll be here if you need me. Just text me when you’re done, yeh?”

She nodded at him, offered him as reassuring a smile as she could manage before leaving the bedroom to gather her things. He didn’t follow her; she heard the bed creak slightly so he must have chosen to stay put instead. It was probably for the best. She didn’t want the image of his pitiful face to be her last memory before sitting in silence for 90 minutes, trying in vain to concentrate as hard as she could.

*

The test went about as well as expected, if what she had expected was to doubt her basic entry-level abilities. She was one of seven that morning, six if you discount the gentleman that walked out fifteen minutes after he sat down.

It was multiple choice. It really shouldn’t have been that difficult. The answer was hiding in plain sight after all. She was reminded of something her tutor once told her and her graduating class before they left the relative comfort of their college:

“There will always be someone who knows more than we do.”

He didn’t mean it in a disparaging way - at least she didn’t think he did - but more that you go from being one of the best in your class to being surrounded by people who are equally as bright and as intuitive as you may be, and who will all have had different experiences. He wanted to say that sometimes, there is no one right answer. It was more than passing a test and qualifying; you have to adapt. You had to soak everything up like a sponge or else you risk becoming redundant in the very profession you devoted your life to. No wonder Medicine had the highest quit ratio. Boy, had she been naive.

Shanna 11.41am: OK OK I kno ur probably still super busy bt i’m dying to kno how it went?? Txt me when you get a sec babe xxxxx

She smiled down at her phone before typing a series of vomiting emojis. That should just about sum up her feelings. Scanning her phone again, she found a couple of messages from Audrey but none from Chris. She was surprised but would be lying if she didn’t admit to being relieved.

She meandered down the street towards the subway, thoughts swaying between reliving stupid mistakes she had convinced herself she had made, to what kind of mood Chris might be in. She texted him that she was finished and heading back like she promised she would, then the train was bang on time so she didn’t even have the luxury of blaming delays. Her legs weighed like lead as she approached the suite doorway, her lack of sleep the night before finally catching up with her.

Everything was deathly quiet when she entered. She paused after shutting the door behind her but still couldn’t hear anything. Certainly no trace of another person being present. Confused, she walked into the bedroom and found a note left on the comforter. He’d gone to the gym and told her to message him when she got back. This might give her the excuse she’d been seeking to grab five minutes alone.

She flopped on to the bed and turned to the side to catch the pile of notes and textbooks he’d shoved there the night before. So much promise contained in those few pages. So much knowledge that it felt like she had no business attempting to absorb it for her own personal gain. Many highly accomplished physicians and scientists had bound their entire lives to the duty of finding answers to the human body’s potential for extreme trauma. What exactly would a young, angst-ridden girl from Michigan bring to the table?

The door went a few moments later and she realised she had closed her eyes. She was lying on her back with her legs hanging off the end of the bed as he walked in, slightly sweaty but nevertheless a sight for sore eyes. Seeing him in this state was the nicest thing that had happened to her all day and she regretted their tense conversation earlier.

“Dude...” he muttered as he dropped his towel on the chair by the door and joined her on the bed. He flopped down alongside her with a heavy sigh.

“Good workout?” she finally offered.

“Yeh, all good. Nothing too strenuous.” He replied like it was the most normal conversation in the world. “Good exam?”

“Oh yeh, same.” she replied just as casual as him before they both fell into a fit of giggles.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked after they had both calmed down.

She took a deep breath. “Not really.”

“You want me to guess?”

“Chris...”

“What?” his voice was a little whinier than he would have liked at this particular time. “I know you. You’re writing yourself off before you know what’s happened.”

“Who said I was writing myself off?” She pushed back. “It’s normal to feel like this. It’s just...nerves or whatever.”

“Yeh, well, there’s no point worrying about something twice.”

She didn’t want to talk about this right now. She was silently hoping he would make a move on her after refraining from touching her the night before when she was definitely in the mood for him. “It’s just...it’s hard to explain.” She got up from the bed and shuffled into the bathroom to remove what little make-up she had put on that morning.

“Try and tell me about it. What was it like? How many questions were there? How many people turned up?”

She threw the face wipe in the bin and ran the tap water to wash her hands. She knew he wasn’t going to budge from his trajectory. She knew he wasn’t going to stop picking at her to talk about it. She leaned her hands on the marble top and took a deep breath.

“It was harder than I imagined it would be. I think I just froze. Like, basic stuff I do day in and day out just wasn’t coming to me.”

“If doing auditions has taught me anything it’s that you always think you’ve done worse than you have. It’s just natural. The brain works in strange ways sometimes. It can trick you.” he reasoned, finally moving into the bathroom but not daring to reach out to her. He settled for backing up against the wall inside the doorway.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be a good result, thought.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” He spoke softly, comfortingly. “You’re so smart and so capable of doing this. You just gotta believe in yourself.”

She nodded in acceptable of what he was trying to say and looked at him face-on. His brow was defined with those worry lines again which made feel a little crap, but he still had a boyish shine about him, no doubt because of the glow from his workout. She would have been a heaving red mess.

“What are you thnking about?” he asked.

She continued studying him, trying to arrange her thoughts. “Is this all there is to life?” she asked after another moment had passed. “You find something you like to do and that’s it, you just coast for 40 years?”

He contemplated her question for a second. “Yeh. Pretty much.”

Sarah huffed out a laugh, not fully appreciating his brutal honest at this moment in time.

“But not everyone is lucky to even get that far.” He moved into the bathroom to stand closer to her. “People can go years with no real clue of what it is they wanna do. You’re one of the lucky ones, Sarah. You figured it out when you were young, you did what you had to do and now you’re doing it for real. That’s less common that you think.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate what he was trying to do, it’s just that often she had multiple anxieties convincing her of the opposite. It’s easy for him to say this, he’s already at the top of his game. He doesn’t have to other with the real world if he doesn’t want to. Most people don’t have the financial luxury of stopping to retrain as something different and Chris had always alluded to quitting acting while he was still young in order to take up something else, like carpentry or simply staying behind the scenes. He always figured he would stop when he had his first child but the reality for everyone else couldn’t afford them that same privilege.

“You are where you’re supposed to be.” He continued. “I don’t believe there is anyone better qualified at what it is they do than you. I believe that and I believe that you know that, too, deep down. You just gotta find the other stuff that keeps you happy in the meantime. Whatever it is that keeps you going.”

“What makes you happy?”

He smiled at her. “Well...what you see if what you get. Family, football, beer. Not necessarily in that order.” He was glad she was smiling again. “Spending time with the people I love. Recognising that I love them and that they love me back and that that love is wonderful.”

“You’re so lucky you don’t second guess yourself all the time.”

“Oh, believe me, I do.” he impressed. “It’s just that I learned some things a few years ago that helped me now. Like taking a deep breath and letting it wash over you. It’s natural to feel doubt but it’s what happens afterwards that really matters. It’s how we choose to perceive the things that happen to us, and how we move forward.”

“Anything has gotta be easier than feeling like this.”

“It’s not always a good thing. Sometimes you have to wait for other people to catch up.” He leaned onto the counter next to her, the mirror in front of them spotlighting them both and making them both appear a little pathetic in their current gait.

“I should start packing.” She whispered after a few more silent moments had passed by.

Neither of them made the effort to move but check-out was 2pm at the latest if Chris had bought it and she was almost certain he had. She would eventually need to make her way to the station and presumably Chris would simply head home in his car. Back to Boston. Back to reality.

“We still have some time. We could order up some lunch if you want to? I’m not entirely convinced you ate anything this morning.”

She watched him in the mirror as he turned to face her, a sterner look in his eyes. He was pretty certain he could read her face this time and her lip-bite told him he was right.

“Or we could do something else with the little time we have left.” He reached out his hand to touch hers, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. She didn’t more away so he chanced his arm and pulled her closer to him before kissing the inside of her palm and wrist. “It was so hard last night.”

She smirked at him before it dawned on him. “I mean...you know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes. “It was hard for me to lie so close to you and not touch you. I really meant what I said, about you getting a good night’s rest but fuck me, it was difficult.”

“I know. It was hard for me, too.”

“We don’t get this kind of time together,” he looked down at her hands, held tightly in his. “And I’ve really, really enjoyed myself. I feel more normal around you. I can’t explain it.”

“It’s OK. You don’t need to say anything.”

This was the type of conversation Sarah would ordinarily run a mile from had it been with anyone else. Chris seemed to understand as well as he stopped himself from talking some more. She was being held in place by the literal limited space around her as he planted himself in her way. He looked down at her causing her to freeze up and, mentally, she began checking if she could feel her feet.

She slowly ran her hands up and down his arms in an attempt to sooth him. She saw him glance down at her lips and she hoped he would end the silence by kissing her but there was no such luck. He was trying to figure something out but what, she didn’t know. He was waiting for her next move.

“I don’t think we’ve thought this much about what happens, when...” he paused, gauging her for a response or an indication that she was OK with what he was about to say. Perhaps even anticipating it in some way. “Sarah, I have these feelings for you and they’re getting stronger and these past few days have told me that I’m right. Do you know what I mean?”

She did know. She didn’t much want to know, but she did. “Let’s pause this and figure it out another time, yeh?” He hands rubbed up to the rest of his shoulders. “Let’s just enjoy this while it lasts. There’ll be another time for talking.”

He wasn’t convinced but assuaged enough to kiss her again, a little harder this time. His hand slipped into her hair to hold her to him and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. They had time.

*

She should have known he would have had the idea to drive them both back home. Yes, there was no need for her to sit on a busy commuter train for three hours but still. She did almost say yes but she would feel awkward asking him to drop her off blocks away from her home and he would inevitably disagree and they’d argue. Not argue per se. They never really argued, but it would become a thing and she didn’t have the heart to disappoint him a third time that day.

They were in happy moods by the time they checked out. All ideas of having a more serious conversation had evaporated quickly after she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. He had them both naked in record time even for him, and she made a point to memorise his face and the rush of red through his skin when she watched him cum hard underneath her.

She’d bought him a coffee from the cafe bar inside the reception and he’d thanked her with a gentle peck on the lips before slipping away via the underground garage, ball cap pulled down low over his eyes. She felt the light bruises form on her thighs and smiled to herself at the memory of where his hands had been when she walked into the apartment to find Shanna in tears. She froze on the spot.

“Oh my god, what the hell happened?” Finally finding her voice when registering the scene in front of her. Sarah dropped her bags and ran to the couch to wrap an arm around her friend. “Why are you crying?”

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Sorry, I’m...” Shanna tried to gather her thoughts. “It’s stupid really. I don’t even know what I’m crying.”

“Well, it’s not stupid. It’s obviously something because it’s made you upset.” She pulled her hand inside the sleeve of her hoodie and used it to wipe away her tears. “Do you wanna talk about it? Is it something I can help with?”

“Not really.” This wasn’t the feisty Shan Sarah knew. “Turns out Robbie wasn’t interested in me after all because he’s asked somebody else out. I should have known really. He definitely wouldn’t be interested in me.”

“Oh love,” Sarah empathised.

“It’s not even like I was really all that bothered about him, honestly.” She continued. “It’s just, it’s been a while since someone decent asked me out on a date, y’know? Someone smart who had potential. Normally, they have to be drunk to even approach me and they just end up being dickheads. All of them.”

Knowing Shanna as well as she did, she knew Shanna wouldn’t appreciate an empty platitude. “I think it happens to the best of us. You should hear some of the tales Audrey has. She’s experienced some crazy shit.”

“Yeh? How did she meet Michael?”

“She didn’t make it easy for him that’s for sure!” she chuckled and felt relief at the grin now showing on Shan’s face. “The way she tells it, she stopped looking. Just stopped going to bars and clubs, spent more time doing the things she enjoyed and more time with her friends and family. Randomly met him at a march in the city, can you believe that? He wasn’t even supposed to be there but his brother dragged him along apparently.”

“I think she was right to concentrate on her friends and family. I should take a leaf out of her book. At least you can count on them to keep you sane.”

A sense of unease found its way into Sarah’s head. “Yeh, definitely. You never know when a good thing will strike and maybe this shows you that you know what you don’t want anymore. That’s gotta be a positive thing, right?”

“Yeh, it just feels a bit crap but I’ll probably feel better in the morning.” Shanna got up from the couch and Sarah sense it was more so to hide a few more tears. “I got some wine earlier, do you fancy a glass?”

“Uh yeh sounds good. I’ll just go and sort my stuff out.”

“Oh fucking hell!” Shanna smacked her hand to her face. “I’m so sorry! How did it go?”

Sarah held her bag loosely in her hand, her attempt at making a quick getaway to her room without discussing the exam a failure. “Oh, it was what it was. I won’t find out for a little while so no point worrying about it twice, right?”

“Huh, you sound just like Chris.” Shanna said before walking back into the kitchen. “I’m sure you did great, though. You always do.”

“Thanks.” She carried on to her room to dump her stuff. She would sort it out tomorrow. Right now, she figured Shan would want to get a little bit drunk and Sarah was on a late tomorrow anyway, so...it wouldn’t do them any harm.

“Hey, Sarah?” Shan called from the kitchen.

“Yeh?”

“Who did you have coffee with?”

Confusion set in as Sarah tried to figure out what Shanna was talking about. She peered her head round the door. “What?”

“Coffee today?” Shanna responded, holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. “This dropped out of your coat, I think. Coffee for two?”

Confusion quickly turned into full-blown panic as she realised what she had done. Fuck. “Oh, um, I just...” She stumbled over herself and felt her skin redden and get hotter. She must have looked a sight. “Um...it wasn’t...”

“Hey, listen, you don’t need to explain anything.”

“Oh no that’s not what it is-”

“-At least one of us is having better luck in the romance department.”

“Shan, it’s not-”

“-I’m so glad you and Greg are getting on well.” Shanna handed over the receipt to Sarah before regarding what must have looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “I mean that. He seems nice and you absolutely deserve to have some fun for a change. I know I haven’t been very supportive of this whole thing with Charlotte but I worry about you a little bit sometimes. After everything that’s happened, I guess I just didn’t wanna see you hurt again.”

Sarah was frozen to the spot. Numb. Shanna had put two and two together and thought the best of her friend. Sarah didn’t deserve that.

“He seems like he’s being really supportive right now and being the person that I should perhaps be. I will try to be better, I promise.” Shanna apologised.

Sarah looked down at the slip of paper in her hand and then to the floor, a little bit of feeling starting to return to her legs. “Shan,” she started quietly, so quietly that she missed it entirely and when she looked back up, Shanna was walking back into the kitchen.

“I mean it. You’ve always been amazing to me. Picking me up when I need it and looking after me. Everyone says I take you for granted sometimes and they’re absolutely right so I just wanted to say that I will back you up 100% from now on. No excuses. You and me against the world, right?”

Shanna flashed her a broad and hopeful grin and all Sarah could do was return a limp version in response. 

“Let’s get that wine opened and you can tell me all about it.”

Shanna disappeared into the kitchen again. If she had stayed a second longer she would have seen tears form in Sarah’s eyes at the knowledge that she screwed everything up. She and Chris had diverted a conversation on the promise of having it another time but that was never going to happen. Not now.

How could it?

*

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Hey if you’re still interested in taking requests I definitely have a few that I want you to write since everything you write is so in character and I’m honestly in love with your blog 😳 I was thinking like the story “A long drive with Hisoka” but the reader has been needy and thinking of the clown daddy the entire ride and eventually it gets too much- thanks for ur time 💕🥺

Sure can do! I wrote this as a kind of part two to the long drive one, hope that’s okay! I noticed a lot of people liked that and I actually really loved writing it. Also thank you so much it’s much appreciated, I do try to keep them as in character as possible, even with writing the cute affection and stuff (its really difficult sometimes but hey it turns out good) 😊 also, thank you for your time in writing the request, happy to receive them~

The house was freezing when you opened the door, a gust of chilly air spitting back at you. Your body shivered violently as you mustered the strength to walk through the door. How had it gotten so cold? You’d thought you had left the heat on before you left for work. It had never been like this before. You wrapped your arms around your chest, curling your body forward in an attempt to get some sort of warmth.

You had nearly forgotten Hisoka had followed you in, the sound of the door shutting and locking making you jump. He cocked a brow.

“It’s quite cold in here. Did you forget your heating payment?” he joked, a smirk playing on his face. You rolled your eyes.

“No... I don’t know why it’s this cold...” you mumbled more to yourself that to him. You flipped the switch on so you could see. Light flooded the room for you to see everything still in place. For some reason you thought it wouldn’t be, or that something would be missing. Whatever the reason, you quickly pushed it out of your mind. All you needed right now was something to warm you up.

A thought crossed your mind.

Hisoka

Your cheeks brightened to a pink shade immediately. Oh God, not now. Not him. You turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead admiring your living room. He had to of noticed your eyes on him, though there was no sign of this. His pink hair fluffed down into his face in an attractive manner. Your eyes drew to his lips. What could they do?

You turned your head away again, your face now on fire. You quickly paced over the hard wooded floors, forgetting to take your shoes off. Hisoka’s eyes burned into your back, curious. You rushed to turn the corner into the kitchen. Your hands reached up for a mug to start making some hot cocoa. It wasn’t winter, but the sound of the chocolate drink made your mouth water. Bonus points for it being able to warm your now cold body.

The sound of shoes being dropped onto the floor startled you again. You didn’t know why you were being so jumpy, maybe it was the sudden arousal building up in your stomach. You felt a chill run up your spine, but for something other than the air.

“Is everything alright y/n? You seem a bit off.” a smirk played on his lips as he turned the corner. Did he know? Oh jeez how could he know? Hisoka was rather perceptive but he couldn’t read minds, right?

“Uh, y-yeah just a little chilly... I guess... do you want some hot chocolate?” you offered, trying to push the thoughts in your head out. He wasn’t wearing his regular tight-fitted clothing. Instead, he donned a grey zip up hoodie and some probably random sweatpants. The jacket was open to show the light blue t short he wore underneath. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal the muscles in his crossed forearms. His head tilted, thinking.

“Hmm... sure~ sounds sweet.” he licked his lips while keeping his eyes on you. Taking a deep, ragged breath, you made to pick up another mug from above you.

“Here, let me get that.” he was behind you so fast you didn’t even realize it, taking the mug from the rack and setting it down for you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t reach it, you’d gotten the other one by yourself just fine. Something about the way his arm came around you as he set the glass down made you nearly squeal. He didn’t move it either. He kept it there, caging you in. You pressed your lips into a thin line. Hold. It. In. Another breath washed over you, not calming much of your anxiety.

“Mmm... what’s the matter? Did I do something again? You don’t have to worry about me leaving dear.” Hisoka made an effort to comfort you, but it didn’t work. He had to of known what was going on. He was sensitive to others aura, he had to feel the lust driving through your veins right now. Maybe that’s why he pressed himself so closely. You inhaled for another deep breath, then turned, ducking under his arm to make for the fridge. You didn’t reply. Hisoka sighed, obviously annoyed that you didn’t answer him again.

You grabbed for the chocolate milk so it would taste better when you heated it up. To most, it sounded like way too much chocolate, that and the fact that you used two packets from the box to make it. You liked it that way though, a lot of chocolate was good. Sweeter. Hopefully Hisoka would like it too.

You poured both glasses and set them in the microwave, ready to heat up. Hisoka stayed in the same spot, nestled into the corner of your countertops, leaning on his elbow. He kept his gaze on you. He was still waiting for that answer.

“You wanna watch a movie or something? I’ll probably be up a while so I figure it might work well.” you suggested. Hisoka seemed to consider this.

“Depends on the movie.”

“Well, what do you like to watch? I assume nothing ‘boring’ like rom coms or some random adventure movie.” you felt yourself giggle near the ending of your words. Hisoka hummed, standing and moving closer to you. Now you felt the shift in his aura. It wasn’t quite the same as yours, though it seemed he wanted to bring whatever you were feeling out more.

“Whatever you wish, y/n.” his stupid smile spread over his face again. Why was he so attractive all of a sudden? This was dumb. You should have pushed harder for him to not come home with you. Part of you hit yourself mentally for even thinking that though. You were lonely. You lived by yourself and didn’t even have a pet to accompany you. Who were you kidding? You needed this right now...

“I guess something dramatic will work...” you decided while taking the mugs out from the microwave to stir in the hot chocolate powder you’d readied. Hisoka remained behind you, watching you intently. You paid no mind to his eyes on your back.

“We’ll have to watch in my room though, the platform I use doesn’t work out on this tv... I hope that’s alright with you. If you want to we can do something else if that makes you uncomfortable.” you explained without turning around, focused on stirring. A chuckled sounded from behind you.

“It’s quite difficult to make me uncomfortable, you know that by now right?” he had leaned down next to your ear and mumbled. His breath tickled your skin, goosebumps raising all over you arms and shoulders. He smelled sweet, just as you’d thought. Vanilla radiating through your sinus. It was nearly intoxicating, sugary sweet. You pressed the front of your hips against the counter to try and move away from him with what little room he provided. You wouldn’t cave this time. Not like this.

Turning around, your back being forced somewhat painfully into the edge of the countertop, you handed him the mug you’d made his hot cocoa in. He took it from your hand, his nails grazing over your hand gently, ticklish. He sipped the mug quietly, standing up fully to tower over you again. You stared up at him, taking a sip from your own mug. The warm cocoa washed down your throat, welcome. The thickness reminded you of something else. Hisoka.

You began to become annoyed with the constant thought of him, especially since this time it was sexually. You didn’t want to imagine these things, not when he was here standing right in front of you. Not what you knew that it was even possible. You grunted lightly, moving past him to make for your room. He followed close behind you.

Hisoka sat down first, actually careful not to spill the contents all over your newly washed sheets. You set your mug down on the white dresser to turn your tv on, snatching up the remote in the process. Once the tv was on you placed the remote back onto the dresser. You figured you wouldn’t need it after a while considering how tired you may be. If you needed it you’d just get up again. You picked up the cup and sat down next to him against the pillows. You set the mug back down on the side table, leaning back against the soft comfort of your sheets and pillows.

For the most part, the two of you paid attention to the film. Neither you nor Hisoka made any move to start anything other than slight movements to adjust your comfort. For some reason, near the end, something in your legs felt warm. You adjusted again, shifting to try and get rid of the feeling. You knew what it was and you knew it was best to ignore it. Once again, Hisoka seemed to take notice of your change in aura.

“Is there something wrong? You’re tense...” he made the comment as he removed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor while he leaned back against your bed frame, eyeing you mischievously. You turned your attention to him. Well, more to his biceps than anything. The sight made your thighs clench tightly.

“I’ve just got something on my mind.” it wasn’t entirely a lie, though you were afraid to tell him exactly what. Though you were almost positive he already knew. Hisoka hummed, sitting forward more to look at your face. His expression was playful, making your cheeks tone red again. His brow cocked.

“And what might that be?” you knew he’d ask that question. You honestly didn’t know how to answer. Did you just flat out tell him? Did you tease it out? Hint at it? Before you could think of a way to tell him, Hisoka had already caged you under him with his arms. You weren’t quite laying down, but you noticed your body had slumped and your legs parted slightly. Enough room for him to get between despite his size.

“I think I know, but I don’t want to be wrong and have you get upset with me~” he set himself up on his elbows so his face was closer to yours, a smirk playing on his lips like usual. This time it was different though. It wasn’t playful like normal, it was lust filled, hungry almost. His tongue swiped over his lips. You only managed a nod for him to do something. Hisoka smiled more now, sitting up on his knees to undo the button and zipper of your jeans. He wasted no time in teasing them off of you. Once they were removed, his hands pressed down onto your thighs, moving upwards and inwards with obvious intent.

Your shirt came off next, with you not wanting to have to wait too long. You were already feeling needy from the start and Hisoka was as impatient as you. His hands felt up the fabric of your bra, cupping your breasts nicely. The undergarment was thin enough for your nipples to perk through, allowing Hisoka to run his thumb over them without much barrier. You were already squirming under him.

“Hisoka...” his name fell from your lips without much thought. You liked the sound of it. He chuckled, continuing to work on the sensitive buds. Your back arched ever so slightly to push up against his hands more. He took the opportunity to move his hands under your back to undo the clasps. Ridding you of the garment quickly he made work of using his mouth to satisfy your growing need. His warm, wet tongue glided easily over the soft skin of your nipple. You had no idea why he was being so gentle, you’d taken him as the rough type.

While he used his mouth to suck at one breast, one of his hands moved back up to grasp your other, his fingers pinching the nipple and tugging lightly. His free hand trailed down your heated stomach over the thin fabric covering the most sensitive spots. His fingers traced against the slit, more of your wetness now evident beneath his fingertips. Instead of taking them off, Hisoka moved them aside to allow a calloused finger to pass over your clit, barely grazing the bundle of nerve endings. More goosebumps popped up on your thighs, the action sending little shockwaves through your legs all the way down to your toes. There was so much going on and you felt so sensitized.

“Tell me what you want~” he let off of your now swollen breast to look you in the eye. You still weren’t accustomed to making eye contact during sexual encounters, so you gaze naturally drifted down to his hand between your legs, watching his long fingers hover over where you wanted him most. You thought for a moment, unsure of what it was exactly that you even wanted.

“I want... you to touch me...” shame was muffling your voice. You turned your face away from him to escape whatever his eyes held. His face pressed up against your jawline, kitten licking the sensitive spot by your ear. A gasp left your mouth. 

“You don’t have to be so shy~ just tell me, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” the last words resonated in an almost growl. Hisoka took your skin from your collarbone between his teeth, nipping gently. You were surprised to find a part of you liked it. Your hands moved down to his and pressed it down against your core.

“Th-there...” you uttered to him. You could feel the smirk against your skin. Hisoka let his fingers work against you. Friction lit sparks all over your thighs making them shake against his hips. He took your chin in one hand to make you face him. His thumb traced your bottom lip and he snickered again.

“How lovely. Such a pretty face.” his praise only added to the heat inside of your body. His fingers picked up the pace a little for you to move with. The same hand that held your chin cupped your cheek. Naturally, you pressed against it comfortingly.

It was sudden when you felt your walls stretch over his fingers. Nothing too much to handle, just surprising to feel at first. The curl of them as they passed over your tight walls made your body curl as well. Your lips parted in a moan when he dragged his fingers back out.

“Oh? So you do like things inside of you. Well, allow me to assist you~” Hisoka took his shirt off, throwing it to the side as well. Your hand went to pull down his sweatpants. He had gone commando that day, of course. There was no worry of his briefs being in the way. You pumped him lightly while he made to take your panties off. It seemed you had done too much, since instead of finding the way around your legs, he simply ripped them off your body. You hadn’t expected that in the slightest. Your hand squeezed his member gently due to the surprise. A groan rumbled in his chest and throat. A warning.

Hisoka quickly pulled your hand off and forced your legs up over his shoulders. He took your hips in his larger hands and lifted you up so you aligned better with him. Your own hands gripped onto his fingers, something to hold onto. You glanced up at his face. He was staring down at you. The head of his cock brushed against your weeping hole, dripping down onto the bed. So much for your clean sheets.

Hisoka held onto you tightly, making absolute sure you wouldn’t move when he pushed in. It proved useful of course, for when he did go all the way, you tried to squirm away, not used to the feeling of something that big entering your cunt. Your fingers wrenched themselves onto his as he pulled back out only to thrust into you again. He was trying to let you adjust while still moving. Hisoka’s own moans started sounding as he picked up his pace. It burned slightly at first but over time things became slicker. Every movement slid nicely in and out of you. Pretty soon you were crying out for him, which you had expected to happen. You couldn’t feel the burning sensation anymore, just the pound of the tip of his member bouncing off your cervix. In a way it hurt, but it was the type of pain that made you feel even more turned on. A deep ache that let you know just how deep he would push into you to get you to come for him.

Curses left your mouth and your hands came up over your head. You refrained from covering your face again, though it was tempting. You felt a twitch inside of you, signaling Hisoka’s near ending. He let your legs fall off of his shoulders only to forced them back so your knees nearly touched your chest. He somehow managed to go even deeper, really pressing himself against the very back of your core.

“I apologize in advance if I hurt you dear~” his voice was heavy, slurred from arousal. You could barely let out a response before Hisoka set a punishing pace into you. You clawed at his biceps and shoulders, your nails digging into his skin for some form of coping with how hard he was pounding into you. It did hurt. A lot. Yet somewhere in that pain you found some sort of pleasure. Something that sparked your body in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

By this point your voice was nearly just squeaks and whines. You felt yourself getting closer and you were a little surprised that Hisoka hadn’t finished yet. Though his closeness came to a near end as his moved faster than your body could really comprehend. His breathing was labored now and he couldn’t even moan anymore, just grunt aggressively next to your ear. Normally the sound would have made you laugh, but right now it was probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard him do. The sound pushed you over the edge, hot liquid spilling past your folds and squirting all over both you and Hisoka. He forced a few more deep thrusts into your quivering body and let himself release onto your stomach, not risking coming inside of you. The liquid from yourself still hadn’t halted either. Hisoka parted your folds and watched as you squirted for him, a smile creeping over his lips.

“I didn’t know you could do that~” he complimented, rubbing over your sore cunt with care. Your legs clamped closed even with his hand still between them. Soon he took his hand back, laying next to you on his side. You were actually happy to see that he was flaccid now and you wouldn’t have to endure it again. You enjoyed it in the moment, but you legs already started to throw and bruises started yellowing wheee his fingertips had bit into your soft skin. You couldn’t even reply to his comment, completely out of breath.

His body moved closer to yours, an attempt at comforting you. You felt a surge in your stomach and legs, telling you to move away from him, but you were to tired to even try. So you just let him pull the blankets over you and coddle you quietly until he eventually turned on another movie for the two of you to watch. You didn’t see which one he turned on though due to your consciousness falling completely.

[jungxk]

just one (vi)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: smut (f recieving), protected sex

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 5.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x 

you watch sadly as you tip your case of empty paint tubes into the bin. they were your absolute favourite, a birthday gift from jimin almost two years ago. you had been so careful and stingy with them all this time to preserve as much as possible - at least to get you to the end of the semester - so it was disheartening to have to finally throw them out. oils were always your favourite. still, there wasn't much time for moping; if you were to get your next piece finished by the deadline you better start now because of the drying period between layers of watercolour.

"maybe jungkook has a hairdryer..." you mumble to yourself before padding over to his room. he's sitting at his tiny little work desk with his back to you when you peek over his shoulder. "kook, do you have a hairdryer?"

he points without removing his eyes from the screen. "the bottom drawer over there."

"thanks," you do a double take as you pass him with the appliance in tow, his eyes a little bloodshot and face twisted into what looks like terror. usually you couldn't so much as clean a paintbrush without jungkook all over you while you were at his place, but he barely spoke the whole afternoon. you take a tentative step towards him, because if he was anything like jimin when he's stressed he might get rabid. "you alright?"

"i dunno, am i?" he collapses back into the chair, threading his fingers through his hair which was getting wonderfully long. but the only thing you can pay attention to now are his panicked eyes and jittery knees. "i don't know what the fuck any of these numbers mean! why do i even need this for photography-"

"what is it?" you smooth your hand over his back, muscles stiff.

he deflates under your touch. "i agreed to peers taking questionnaires about my portfolio so far and i fucking regret it, noona. this stats software looks nothing like minecraft. i dont know what this all means. my prof said it'd help with cohesiveness - whatever that means - but he's off on one if he thinks this has done anything other than confuse me and ruin my life."

you try your best to hold back a smile, but jungkook is so cute when he's pouty and frustrated. "okay, well what are your variables?"

"my what? baby, i'm not in the mood right now-"

"no you dipshit, like," you gesture with your hands. "what are the things you're measuring? in the questionnaire?"

jungkook stares at you blankly. "i'm...what?"

you roll your eyes, grabbing the back of his chair to swivel him and plop onto his lap. "let me see."

jungkook has no idea what's going on, both because he doesn't know what you're talking about and also because you're covering the screen so he's spared of having to follow your clicking and tinkering. all he knows is that you fit nicely on his lap and that your bare thighs are warm on his, and it's much easier to focus on that anyway. especially since you aren't wearing underwear. after a few minutes he hooks his chin over your shoulder to at least try to keep up. "what are you doing, noona?"

"just cleaning up your dataset," you mumble. you finally perk up after a few more minutes. "oh, okay! so all you want to know is if the people who like the first half of your portfolio like the second half just as much, and whether that opinion affects the other? like a correlation, right?"

he sits up excitedly. "yeah! yeah, that's it," he stares at your profile in disbelief while you waste no time in running the analyses. "how do you know about this stuff, noona?"

"i did stats in my science major. the software i had back then, now that was a real pain in the ass. but this one isn't so bad," you reply absently while jungkook keeps staring at you like you're an angel that descended from the heavens especially for him. he has yet to believe otherwise. "hmm, you know i think you can skip all the sample level descriptives and cronbach's alpha scores and go straight to pearson's r if all you're looking for is a correlation. what would you prefer?"

he breathes in your hair; coconut, jasmine. his cologne. "you’re so sexy when i don’t understand what you’re saying."

x

x

x

jimin's face twists when he tests the contents of the pan. "can you tell me why this tastes like tae's dirty socks?"

“can you tell me why you know what tae’s dirty socks taste like?” you lean over the counter, swiping a finger over the ladle before bringing it to your mouth. you always used to cook for your family when you were younger, and although you had gone off it after what happened, you didn't mind when it was with jimin. with him, you didn't think about the memories of cutting onions with your father or grinding chillies with your mother and sister. it all felt new again, something that was never tarnished. which is why jimin is the only one you can stand to cook with even if he's unable to make anything but mojitos and a single pasta dish. "not enough garlic."

he squints at his phone while you manoeuvre him out of your way. "but it says two cloves in the recipe?"

"it's never two cloves," you take the knife and start to crush and peel more. "always start with four, maybe five."

"can't we just order takeout?" jimin pouts pathetically. he just washed his hair so its still damp, cheeks a rosy from the bathroom steam. you only wish his long line of hookups could see their ladies man now, bundled up in a powerpuff girls  sweater that he stole from you months ago.

"no," you pluck his phone from his hand before he can dial, replacing it with more cloves for him to peel. "you've been having takeout all week! all that oil can't be good for you, what's the point of sweating your tits off in that gym if you're just gonna eat shit?"

"i don't always eat shit!"

"jimin. we share a just eat email account. i know the chinese place isn't sending me customer loyalty codes," he rounds the stool where you're sat in the small place between your back and the wall, his palm skirting behind your waist to move you gently aside. "just let me see you eat a vegetable today, i'm begging. so if you keel over tomorrow from IBS i'll feel less guilty."

"alright alright," he huffs, rubbing at his puffy eyes with his sleeve before picking up the knife again. "i don't see what the big deal is, if i was breaking out then that'd be another issue but my body can clearly handle it. maybe it's like that episode of drake and josh where his body becomes accustomed to all the junk food he eats and-"

"please don't use drake and josh as a marker for your health."

"fine," and then without missing a beat, "but what about kenan and kel? all that orange soda and kel was totally fine. healthy even."

"physically, maybe. but did you see the screw in the tuna episode? don't tell me he didn't have inner demons that may or may not have been increased by an overly processed diet," you pause. "wait, am i the kenan in this friendship?"

"depends. i want to say you're the brains but i've also seen you try to open a can with a fork, so."

"hey! that wasn't my fault!" you exclaim, but jimin ignores you purposely. "taehyung told me you fucked yeri in the kitchen, how was i supposed to know what was and wasn't contaminated?"

"___, the fork was plastic."

"well what else would you have me do, starve?"

"what is this, the fucking famine? you said it yourself, we share a just eat email so the smart thing to do would be order. besides i dunno what makes you think i'd fuck a girl with a can opener in my vicinity anyway-"

"um, you're you," you chastise. "so i rest my case."

"then i'm definitely kenan," jimin laughs when you swat at him before your phone vibrates, one after another until it almost falls off the kitchen counter if you didn't grab it in time. you don't dare to unlock your phone when you see the contact name on the screen, too hyper-aware of jimin eyeing you over the chopping board. even he sees the gist of the messages jungkook sent you.

[jungkook 7:13pm] u left ur shirt here again noona

[jungkook 7:13pm] at this rate ur never gonna get it back are u :)

[jungkook 7:14pm] i'm free all day tomorrow

[jungkook 7:16pm] wanna come over?

[jungkook 7:16pm] i still haven't washed it btw so

[jungkook 7:17pm] we can do laundry together :))

[jungkook 7:18pm] or maybe later tonight ? i can pick u up ?

you don't even get a good read of the messages - all those smiley faces gave you enough of an idea. it wasn't a surprise or anything, but you still switch your phone to do not disturb and leave it face down on the counter like you have something to hide. which you don't. so why did it feel so wrong? so disrespectful, here in jimin's kitchen? you gnaw at your cheek.

jimin has his back to you so thankfully you're spared of having to gage his expression. he's probably sent a million thirsty texts so he knows what they look like, knows that he shouldn't be surprised. still, he shifts from foot to foot uneasily. the only thing that makes him stop is you leaning wordlessly over him to lower the stove to a simmer, turning the tap on to wash some rice and hum quietly. here was jeon jungkook, arguably the biggest stud on campus blowing up your phone on a friday night but nothing felt different. you'd always choose him and jimin knew that.

"what do you think of egg fried rice?" you ask over your shoulder. "i haven't made it in ages. the one with the veggies?"

jimin smiles. "i love that one,"

x

x

x

"he's not back yet?" you ask when yoongi lets you into the flat, shoulders deflating childishly. he gives you a lazy shake of his head before nudging you to the sofa to take up your usual spot on the matted cushion in the corner, kicking your shoes away and sitting cross legged. yoongi and namjoon's flat was only round the corner from jungkook's, a worn down little two-bed that smelled rather questionable at times, but it quickly became a familiar place. a safe place. especially because of how often you'd come over while jungkook was running late at class or the gym or photo-hunting. coming to terms with the fact that you were sleeping with jungkook wasn't that hard, but being friends with his friends was.

"it's leg day. you know how jungkookie feels about his chicken calves," yoongi says before flopping down next to you. namjoon was tucked into the other side with a book, effectively squishing you into yoongi with his big shoulders. if jungkook was here he'd pout about having nowhere to sit and the thought only makes you more pleased. "he'd be there until sundown if you weren't waiting for him."

"are you sure you're one to talk about chicken legs?" you reach to tickle yoongi's knees and he barely manages to flinch away in time.

"i love my chicken legs the way they are, thanks. can't say the same for your boyfriend though."

you freeze. "i told you to stop saying that, yoongi. you know he hates the b word. one more slip up and you won't ever see me here again. last time he avoided me for two weeks!"

"never see you again? doubt it. your hair clogged the shower drain yesterday so you pretty much owe rent at this point," yoongi keeps flicking through the channels on the television. "besides, i know what a man with a monkey on his back looks like. kookie just doesn't like being reminded of it because unfortunately for him there's no rehab to quit you."

a rush of blood goes straight to your cheeks. yoongi loves to tease you and you know that, second only to jungkook who actually does get off to it, but you still tap nervously on the carpet with your toes while desperately hoping for namjoon to step into the conversation with a weird conspiracy theory or black hole fact he read on an astronomy blog. anything to dig you out of this metaphorical hole you and jungkook are hellbent on ignoring. yoongi sees the way you curl in on yourself slightly, a sensible and collected flower like you reduced to a fidgety school girl. it's cute.

"hyung," namjoon says with his eyes still glued to his book. "stop winding her up or her face'll explode and then jiminie will come for your throat."

yoongi scoffs. "and? what's that short-ass gonna do, cry on me to death?"

"you're like two inches taller than him."

"two and a half, actually."

"so he really was a crybaby?" you scoot to fold your legs under you. "jungkook told me before but i didn't believe him! i've tried everything but i can never get a reaction out of jimin...i mean, if horny isn't an emotion."

"oh yeah, totally," namjoon puts an arm on the back on the back of the sofa behind you when he looks up. his silver hair brings out the beautifully rich undertone of his skin and it's difficult not to stare, being so close. "if the patriarchy hadn't fucked him up he'd be a real tree hugger, i'm sure of it. but the last time i saw him cry was...hmm..."

"five years ago," yoongi chimes. "when jungkookie got caught."

"ooooh yeah," namjoon nods. "but jimin and jungkook were super close back then. he was so protective of him, waited in the custody office for hours until they finally-"

"wait," you look between them. "caught? what do you mean?"

the boys exchange a glance between them. it's not like you didn't know that yoongi sells weed and often with namjoon's help. in fact, they often told you about their wild stories and close calls. but they had never mentioned jungkook being involved with any of that stuff, and neither had he. you always just assumed that he'd kept his head out of it, being a college student and all but yoongi's shrugging and namjoon's pursed lips tell you otherwise.

"jungkook got charged with possession as a minor," yoongi says. "i mean, seventeen but still. too baby-faced."

"jungkook sold for you?" you repeat, not quite believing your ears. he had always been the better off out of his friends that often did shadier things, but the more you got to know him the more you felt like the jungkook you heard about and the jungkook you knew were two different boys. it really shouldn't have come as a surprise, since he had practically grown up with yoongi, namjoon and jimin. his hyungs were his family and he'd do anything for them, there was really no reason he wouldn't take up their trade.

"oh yeah, almost a year. he was good at it too," namjoon laughs. "our kookie's good at everything if you give him enough chances."

"so what happened?" you press. "does he...does he still sell?"

"are you kidding? we got him out of all that shit the second he stepped out the office," yoongi rubs the back of his neck. "jungkook isn't like us. he's a good kid with a lot of talent and he didn't need to be doing all that you know? we convinced him to go to school instead but even then, jimin made us swear to look out for him because he left earlier than kookie."

"wow, jimin really hasn't changed," you lean back. "in like, taking care of people i mean. so is that when jungkook got into photography? he did talk about getting his first camera when he was like eighteen or something..."

namjoon nods happily in recollection. "yup! we were so proud when jungkook got accepted into university, especially after jimin and hobi. people from our town don't usually pursue higher education-"

"especially with kookie's record," yoongi laughs.

"why?" you blink at him.

"the weed was one thing, but jungkook also got a strike for violence."

namjoon winces. "hyung, he's gonna throw a tantrum if you tell her..."

"i don't care. she's fucking him, she has a right to know," yoongi retorts evenly, dark eyes swivelling to meet yours. his light hair is matted from under his beanie, barely missing his lashes. "a few years ago jungkook beat a guy so bad he had to go into emergency. it was pretty gross. broken nose, missing teeth, you name it. he's been on thin ice since but he doesn't act like it."

you take a second to digest the information. "do you...do you know why?" you waver, unable to keep the horror from your voice. "knocking a guy's teeth out? people don't just do that!"

"kookie did," namjoon sighs.

"but why? it's so...i just can't imagine jungkook doing something like that..."

"something like what?"

your head snaps to the doorway where jungkook can be seen only partially when he bends over to unlace his shoes, namjoon and yoongi simultaneously pinching your legs to wipe the wide-eyed look off your face. it was one of the many times when wearing your heart on your sleeve did not do you any favours. you just about manage to look normal enough within the half a second it takes for jungkook to come in, hair mussed from his post-gym shower and tee wrinkled from being stuffed into the bottom of his bag. his eyes look extra big today, nose and knuckles blushed pink from all the lifting. he couldn't look farther from the violent offender yoongi and namjoon described. in fact, the sudden urge to kiss him hello was near suffocating.

"i was telling her about the time you wore hyung's underwear for two weeks," namjoon explains, years of lying paying off with how smoothly he returns to his book.

"what!" yoongi splutters. "are you kidding?! a whole week, jungkook that's disgusting-"

the younger boy winces. "not the same pair!"

"wait. you took more than one?!"

"um..."

"how many. tell me right now you little shit."

"i promise they were clean!" jungkook says defensively, but his buck teeth show in a defensive little grin. it's impossible to be mad at him. "my washing machine broke, remember? and i never have change so i didn't go to the laundrette's and-"

"which ones?" yoongi's voice becomes obnoxiously loud with dismay. "tell me right now so can go upstairs and burn them. jesus jungkook you could have at least asked me, now i have to live with the knowledge that your bollocks is acquainted with mine until i die-"

"hyung they were clean," jungkook insists. "and if i asked i knew you wouldn't have let me borrow them!"

"yeah because it's gross! why didn't you just take joonie's?"

"i did. but he caught me and told me to take yours instead."

you just about manage to insert yourself between yoongi before he can grab a fistful of namjoon's hair while jungkook throws back his head in a loud cackle.

x

x

x

[jimin 7:58pm] you dont mind do u?

it's hard not to roll your eyes at his message, momentarily leaving your phone on the bed while you unclasp your bra. it wasn't the first time jimin had bailed on you last minute because of some girl he'd picked up for longer than expected. you're just thankful that this time he had the courtesy to tell you before you got to his house and burst into his bedroom without knocking only to see areas of your best friend you really did not need to see. even though you shudder at the memories - yes, plural - the sinking feeling of disappointment can't be masked. it's movie night.

[you 8:01pm] yh its fine

[you 8:02pm] but u owe me one i put on a bra for you asshole

[jimin 8:04pm] ofc babe

[jimin 8:04] just skip it next time :)

you snort before locking your phone and throwing it on the bed, padding over the room in your knickers to select some sleeping shorts off the floor. jisoo went home for a family birthday and seulgi had a deadline for monday, so it was safe to say you were alone for the weekend. you were used to being alone but you didn't like it; it was the reason why you'd always trudge to jimin's if the girls weren't home or even yoongi and namjoon's, even if it was just to take a nap on their sofa. you needed the noise, the background bickering. that's why there's only so much paint brush washing and kitchen cleaning you can do before reaching for your phone and messaging jungkook.

or at least that's what you tell yourself when he's in your bed within the hour, head resting on your stomach and his leg thrown over your ankles. you trace along the tattoo on his bicep closest to you, admiring the cohesiveness and line placement while jungkook dozes off, like he often does after sex. he's had a long week so you let him sleep, hair sticking up and mouth open like a toddler, so impossibly cute you can't help combing through his nape. jungkook doesn't often spend the night at yours so this was a rarity, and you had to admit he did look a little out of place in your tiny little room. he was far too big for your bed, one foot already hanging off, clothes and jacket hurled into the corner with only cheap fairy lights to rely on so you don't go tripping over his shoes at the door.

you could draw him like this. jungkook's eyelashes are short and pin-straight, eyebrows angled and distinctive. quick, sharp pencil strokes. he's got the faintest shadow above his top lip from where didn't have time to shave today. you'd use charcoal for his hair, black with a slight wave. a swooping curve for his nose, a more gentle line for his jaw. he looks harmless like this: not at all resembling the boy yoongi described.

"why are you so quiet, noona?" he grumbles into the duvet, eyes still closed. "you should be snoring my ears off by now."

you pout. "i'm too busy wondering how i'm gonna get your river of drool out of my pillow."

he snorts. "throw your sheets in on a fast cycle and voila."

"what fast cycle? i just press every button on the machine until it starts."

he opens his eyes. "you're an animal."

you laugh, tugging on the roots of his hair where your hand is still nestled inside. "how do you know so much about washing machines anyway?"

"my mum worked a lot growing up," jungkook yawns. "hyung did the cooking and i did the laundry."

you freeze. "you have a brother?"

"i swear i told you that," he scoots across your stomach, taking the pillow with him to position it over your hip so he can look at you properly. his eyes look glassy in the lights, lids hooded and hair pushed back. a real dreamboat wrapped in a hello kitty duvet. "two years older, same as jimin."

"no wonder jimin cares about you so much," you keep playing with his hair, watching his eyes droop closed. "he may as well be your brother." jungkook hums in reply, growing more and more drowsy from all the petting. "so...how come your mum worked so much?"

his eyes open to look at you, hesitating. "dad left when we were young. she didn't really have a choice."

"i didn't know that jungkook..." you pause. "that must have been hard."

he rolls to face the ceiling, like he's thinking twice before he answers. "not really. eomma's a badass, there's nothing she can't handle. yeah money and stuff wasn't easy, and it sucked when i was younger and didn't understand why hyung and eomma were so upset after what happened, but it's whatever. the three of us are so good together, you know? i like it like this."

you nod. because you do know. or, did. you wonder now if that's the reason jungkook got involved with yoongi and namjoon in the first place, to help out his family, but even you know some questions are better left unasked. instead, you chip away at jungkook while you can, since you know barely anything about him beyond student life and his friends. who knows when he would be in the mood to open up again. "so what does your brother do?"

"an accountant. for some fancy law firm in the city," he smiles. "hyung is super smart. like you."

you laugh. "you know i didn't finish my first major, right?"

"by choice. not because you weren't capable," he finishes, and to that you have no choice but to shut up. no one had ever put it that way before. "he's super quiet like you too, keeps to himself. gives really good advice. oh my god, and his kimchi pork stew - amazing!" his teeth gleam take up his whole mouth when he smiles, lines creasing around his eyes. "so many times when me and mum would argue, hyung was the reason why we'd stop. guess i got her temper."

you watch him closely. "you argued often?"

"at one point, yeah. not because we didn't like each other or anything, just..." you can see him hesitating again, cheek sucked in from where he chews it while staring up at the ceiling as if the memories are playing back at him on a projector. you keep quiet, let him get there on his own. "mum went through a phase where she dated a lot. felt bad that neither of us had a father figure and all that bullshit. she brought home some real dickheads, some top tier cunts i'm telling you. and i...wasn't exactly nice to them. ever since then i just hate seeing girls be pushed around by assholes, you know? it does something to me, i dunno. here," he lays a hand over his stomach. "i can't just watch. i can't. it's like i'm gonna be sick."

it's hard not to cry listening to him, seeing the lines in his forehead appear along with the crinkle above his nose. it made sense now, what yoongi told you about before. thinking back to the whole escapade with jinyoung in your kitchen, the whole thing hit you differently.

jungkook was exactly the kind of boy your old family would have frowned upon, reckless and thoughtless and emotionally-driven in the face of adversity. absolutely everything you were taught not to be. but you admired him for those very reasons. before you can start crying you sit up, silencing jungkook with a kiss before he can ask you what's wrong. it's firm and deliberate, your hands holding both his cheeks. he's breathless. "you seriously fucking worry me, slick."

"oh?" his eyes stay focused on your lips while he moves to you, positions you underneath him on the foot of the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips so you gasp at the feel of his semi on your soft inner thigh. he dips his head to kiss along your sternum, hand ghosting over your breasts before closing his mouth around your nipple.

"i nev-never know what you're gonna do next," you exhale shakily, arching into him involuntarily at the sensation. jungkook takes the opportunity to rub the pads of his fingers against your cunt, using the remnants of your arousal to help you along. sure enough you accept his fingers greedily, but he takes his time in stretching you out and easing in further, further.

his thumb gently passes over your clit and you shake. "never? not even now?"

you have to forcibly yank his face away from your tits to kiss him, slowly and with passion. his skin grows damp under your hands, muscles rippling under your touch from where he holds himself up on his forearms. he likes feeling the softness of your tummy against his, your thick thighs cushioning him snugly against you. just like always, it's torture having to pull away from you for a brief second to grab a condom, but the familiar chuckle you breathe out to see him speed back into your arms almost makes it worth it. you take the packet from him, about to tear it open before he grabs your hand with a cheeky smile. "in a minute."

before you can question him about it you yelp he tugs you by the hips, sliding up to angle your ass so your knees have no choice but to hook over his shoulders. jungkook's arms wind around the top of your thighs, thick and secure, nails scraping gently through your coarse curls before he pulls your legs apart as wide as they'll go and lowers his mouth onto you. the noise you make is just as embarrassing as always, so loud and uncontrollable, hysterical even. you've gotten used to being jungkook's fourth, fifth and sixth meal of the day but he steals your breath away every time, leaves you squirming and trembling and this instance was no exception. today he was feeling indulgent so he eats you out messily, makes sure he's loud enough for you hear every squelch and slurp. you physically shake when he sucks a gently kiss to your clit, proud of yourself for not screaming. jungkook, however, isn't happy about that and keeps sucking until you do. harder, harder, and then filling you up with his fingers so you have something to clench around when you cum all over him in a rush.

your back is still off the bed when he reaches your eye level again, the family sound of the foil wrapper ripping from the condom packet making you lift your head up to look at him. he's already rolling it down his length when he peer downwards, and even though you only get a glimpse of his blushing head he's sticky and hot with pre-cum. you wiggle in anticipation and jungkook laughs at your cuteness before leaning back down, taking your hands in his for a change. he can see the appeal, interlocking your fingers with his palms against yours and using only his hips as leverage to push into your sopping center, letting you move against him so he's lodged in as deep as he can fit before he starts rocking into you.

your moans are his favourite song, maybe that's why he wants to listen to them all day. he'd like to make you cum again but it's difficult for him once his hips start stuttering uncontrollably, no matter how much he tries to slow his pace. you let go of his hands then to take his face, his eyes closed when he feels you press your smooth lips to his cheekbone; an encouraging kiss. a go on, i want you to kiss. the moan he let's out before giving in is fragile and wispy, nose digging into your neck while he ruts against you to his end. you clench around him harder just to hear jungkook whimper again, pliant and weak in your arms. all of a sudden, out of nowhere you wish you could feel the rush of his cream spilling from you when he pulls out to discard the condom. he nestles back into your breasts afterwards, smelling himself on your skin. 

jungkook falls asleep smiling.

[sarasfm]

Sarauniya “ Sara ” Davies, 24, pansexual, cisfemale, ISFP Enneagram 9w1; Pisces sun, Sagittarius moon, Pisces rising 1st year Advanced Encryption Major; did not go to a spy prep hs

Imma keep it real with you, chief, I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. I mean, obviously, I know what espionage is ; I’ve read books and articles, and I’ve seen Spy Kids and all the Charlies Angels and James Bond movies, but I genuinely think I need a minute to wrap my head around everything. Make that two weeks, because what’s this I hear about two murders ?  I literally just got sent here to be safe, I — I’m sorry, I’m freaking out. Give me five seconds, and we can start again, because I promise I can totally pretend this is all normal. @gallagherintro​

full name: sarauniya “ sara ” davies

dormitory room: 105

birthday: 20 march 1995

soundtrack: “ go gina ” by sza

favorite dish: efo riro

aesthetic:  when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of light reflecting from her earrings, eyeglasses perched on top of her head, and a caviar iphone always in her hands

Bio Points

her mom’s a nigerian baddie billionaire & her dad’s a soft academic brit

she grew up between london and abuja where their family’s business is based. it’s a trading enterprise, the largest industrial conglomerate in sub-saharan africa

she’s the eldest of three siblings, was raised to be prim & proper and groomed to run their family’s business. her family’s not pushy though and they’re really cool. very healthy dynamic so she doesn’t mind ; she loves her fam and would do it w a smile !

Coding is her Passion though. total dork. stayed up all the time just sleuthing and being an internet geek since she was a youngin’

loves education and is the type who would willingly stay in school to learn. has a degree in economics from harvard and was almost done with her mba when her littlest sister got abducted !  was it about business ? money ? who knows ! the sister’s fine now but her family sure is Scared especially since sara’s alone in the big bad united states

her mom made some calls and went “ gimbiya, look, u aint safe n we sorry. we’ll work something out to make sure u get ur mba degree somehow but shit is wild so we gotta get u somewhere near that’s safe asap. u like studying & ur a geek with computers right ? cool beans, go back to school & welcome to gallagher, babe ”

she enters gallagher in the middle of the spring semester very overwhelmed & inwardly ignoring how unhappy she is about having to be here bc she is not & does not want to be a spy. she just tryna distract herself by looking at this entire thing as a weird vacation where she can do stuff she wasn’t able to before because it’s literally detached from the world. she is mostly probably in way over her head, but let’s see ! 

Other Information

Nicknames: Sara (to everyone), gimbiya (to family, means princess in Hausa)

Languages: English (native), Hausa (native), Arabic (C1), French (B2)

Strengths: is money a strength ? also coding. and being the sweetest. and a general smartypants but that’s in a university setting & gallagher probably doesnt give a fuck

Relationship History: only has one (1) experience. ( well,,, 2 if a three-second drunken kiss w kass counts ) his name’s royce and they’ve known each other since their bougie secondary school back in britain. started dating at sixteen and went to harvard together. they’re long term as fuck. he’s like her best friend and their families adore the couple & each other. got engaged last september and sara broke it off before leaving for gallagher, oof. she deadass milked the opportunity but lbr she wasnt rlly Feeling It so she’s kinda glad for the ‘valid reason’ to appear bc it rlly wasn’t Love for sara so boy bye

Physical appearance: 1.76m, 55kg, long black hair, slim and toned build

Classes: GEN 105, GEN 206, AE 101, AT 101, PE 101

Personality

the sweetest. v charming & sensitive to others & curious about things. enthusiastic too ! loves adventures & is very passionate. queen of empathy. 

she’s not stuck up even tho she loaded. she doesnt rlly talk abt her family having 12B or the fact that she’s an ivy league girl, bc she’s just generally very uwu 

easily stressed and flustered and overwhelmed ! man, gallagher’s gonna shook this goddamn academic dork to her core for the love of god someone pls get the aed ready

rlly fun !!! can be a lil unpredictable bc it b lyk dat for rich girls. loves her independence which she hasn’t maximized bc of her ex fiancé & responsibilities but it’s chill so chill totally chill, no ounce of further longing exists in the crevices of this girl’s heart

she is so not good with confrontation and is so allergic to conflict ok. she will sweep discomfort under a rug and lie on it ‘til it’s flat which makes her a queen of repression & conforming

is she easily overwhelmed & stressed ? yes, but she’ll try not to show it so much. it’s all mostly an internal monologue so don’t underestimate her pls. she’s v smart and competent. can be so competitive ( albeit mostly inwardly ) and a boss ass business bitch like her business momma bc that’s what she’s been training for altho she is still generally a soft bab so ... yeah, if u would be so kind as to Estimate her, that’d be grand

she needs to always be on top of her game. maybe not the best in the class, but definitely pushes herself to be her best, so a lot of late nights studying & won’t settle for bad grades ever. gonna be rough in gallagher bc she is not spy material ok, she’s just a pretty rich geek behind a computer

just imagine her as the nice girl in ur ap classes who’s a lil awkward & just so happens to be super hot & stinking rich

Fun Facts

has a six-month old rescue pup named sooty ! who kinda looks like a sheparnese

has a tendency to ramble if she’s comfy w u enough or mayhaps if it’s too much man 

is v diligent w keeping a journal & does it everyday 

likes to dance ! not super good but she likes it. hits da clubs for dat shit 

is a lil instagram famous bc she’s a gorgeous rich harvard girl & all that jazz. queen of selfies & of looking hot but doesn’t actually get to play around rip ffff 

doesn’t drink much bc she is an extreme lightweight and 2 is her tap out limit

if she’s had more than 2 drinks, she is Very Honest but still very ramble-y 

she is physically active but mostly just runs and does yoga. knows very basic self-defense. is not sporty, definitely not a fighter, may god have mercy on her soul

isnt a virgin but is not sexually experienced lmao lbr she kinda Itching to get out there 

don’t ask me what her accent is because i have no clue it’s all over the place

Established Connections — just bc i think y’all would like to know

kassandra sutton — internet friends ! loves kass to bits. have known each other since sara was 14. when kass was 18, sara took her on a grad trip to montreal and became a lil lowkey into her. doesn’t help that kass drunk kissed her & doesn’t remember lmfao. poor sara told her then-bf & they had a lil fight but they made up bc sara didn’t talk to kass for months. eventually they became friends again & now sara’s in gallagher w no idea that kass is a mf sutton & honestly, my girl is just very shook w everything 

Possible Connections

crushes — she does not know how to flirt. she is ,,,, p pathetic tbh but a real heckin cutie. will be super nice to ur bab ok  

flirtationships — sara and i r gonna continue to keep it real w u chieves, her ex fiancé royce was vanilla and bland as fuck. can u believe she has not been single in a decade ? ? someone give her love & attention & fluster this soft innocent child. get her Experienced but also dont hurt her

enemies/angst !!! —  or maybe do ! maybe hurt her. maybe obliterate her. maybe smash her poor heart to pieces, because tbh i would love that.  so someone pls for the love all things holy and divine, someone hurt her !!!!

fwb — probably just one (1) bc she’s still a romantic ? and she’s probably gonna want something exclusive even if it’s no strings attached and will surely want to ,.,. get to know them a little bit more first ,,, at least ideally , idk , maybe impulse & thirst gets the better of her one of these days who knows lets find out !

friends !!! — sara will love u ok. she may be a lil easily flustered but she’s doesn’t rlly give up on ppl quickly. as i’ve said, queen of empathy. probs feels v sorry for majority of the gallagher & georgetown kids bc, .,.,., this environment just screams highkey Trauma to her and she’s valid bc she’s right

mentors !!! — she hates feeling dumb ok she Always has to be on top of her game, so u can bet ur ass after her first meetings in her classes she goes to ppl going “ hey could u help me out w working out ? boxing ? firing a gun ? literally everything & anything ? ”   

anything & everything — meaning just come @ me & let’s talk about it uwu 

( did i just create georgina’s antithesis ? fuck yes, and i am sooo excited to have a child that’s not always plotting & scheming & being mean like y’all have no idea ;_; nywy, that was long bc shutting up and brevity are things i do not possess. whats up it’s ur og flower garden girl rose here aka bugleweed aka fiancée of many and lover of all, and i am open to anything and everything ! just drop an IM or hit dat like & ill slide in ur dmz w love, plots & sanitized hands x )

[tiergan-vashir]

What about a cis woman who has androgynous features and hates it and herself for it? I'd give anything for a more feminine face and not look so flat chested. Is this dysphoria too? Do you have any resources for this sort of problem? It seems silly, but when I see trans women having things like facial feminization surgery or going on hormones and getting breasts that are nice, I wonder if a cis woman who experiences the same pain over her androgynous features is in the same boat..

Aww, anon. I’m so sorry to hear that you’re struggling this way. I wouldn’t say this is gender dysphoria as gender dysphoria is involves a persistent sense of unease and conflict between a person’s physical or assigned gender and the gender with which he/she/they identify.  You are a cis woman who identifies as a woman, but wishes she looked more feminine, which is very different.

I would assess how strong your feelings are and if it’s extremely severe, to the point that your distress causes you to be highly preoccupied with it and it is impacting your school, work, home, etc or and you find yourself hiding away, I would consult a therapist. You may have body dysmorphic disorder.If it’s not quite THAT extreme, the I would say that what you’re feeling and struggling with is still totally valid and far, far more common amongst folks than you might think.  Whether you realise it or not, as a woman you are bombarded all the time with powerful systemic, societal pressures to look, dress, and behave in a certain manner every day - and all of that can really destroy how people feel about themselves.

Shoving the rest of this under a cut for length.

Let me just tell you right now - my breasts are fuckin’ tiny.  I know I literally just asked for advice on binders a few days ago, but I’m an A cup at best. Probably smaller.  The slight, itty-bitty ‘cup’ shape on my flimsy bralettes probably give these non-existent knockers more shape than they really have.  Even though I’m buying binders and what not, on a lazy day, I could honestly just slap some pasties on these nip-nops and call it good. They’re that small.

This is amazing and awesome now that I’m busily trying to minimize their existence as much as possible.  I consider myself genderqueer/genderfluid so some days I’ll be crushed over the fact that I can’t be this tall, jacked, majestic Tiergan-shaped dude, while other days I’ll be fine and dandy with looking like a woman, while MOST days I just want to be the purest manifestation of Gender Confusion Inducement™ in other people.  Me wanting binders over my itty-bitty nublet tiddies is just me wanting to go that extra mile to be flat as a fuckin’ wall.

But when I thought I was a cis woman? I felt crushingly ashamed by them.  

Back then, I didn’t really like myself or how I looked. I didn’t like looking at myself in the mirror. I HATED looking at myself in pictures. I rarely took selfies, because I thought I was not very attractive.  I thought I was bland and ugly looking.  Society had told me again and again that attractive women looked a certain way, were shaped a certain way, dressed a certain way, etc, and that clearly my unhappiness was based upon the fact that I did not conform to that mold.I thought to be happy and to feel better about myself, I had to double down on the womanliness and become more conventionally attractive. So I’d buy things like massive push-up bras that never felt good, comfortable, and I hated in a desperate attempt to conform. I’d buy these really specific types of shirts and clothes that I didn’t like at all, but thought was what was ‘pretty’ for women. I’d fumble through learning make-up, not because I was interested in the colors, the expression, the creativity, and accentuating my features the way I wanted, but because that’s just what adult women were supposed to do.  I’d buy certain shoes I didn’t really even like, but knew pretty women were supposed to like and wear.

I was trying so damn hard to fit the mold and in the end, it only made me feel worse.  I felt like I was wearing this awkward, uncomfortable shell. People would tell me I was pretty, but I didn’t feel happier. I just felt more miserable, because all this extra emotional and physical labour I was putting into myself just to fit this arbitrary bullshit notion of what an ideal pretty lady was supposed to be like was EXHAUSTING and I didn’t even really like how I looked. I didn’t want to do it all every. single. day of my life.

Realising I was nonbinary was absolutely liberating for me, because I thought  “Well… if I’m not a cis woman and none of the old ‘rules’ matter anymore, …what does handsomeness or beauty actually mean to me?” 

And for the first time in my entire adult life, I defined for myself what beauty and handsomeness truly meant for me.  It was wonderful and liberating.  The first thing I realised was that I didn’t really give a fuck about how big my boobs are. Society did. And BOY HOWDY it was GREAT not giving a flying fuck about that anymore.  I still keep a few bras around for costuming/cosplay purposes, but you could not catch me fucking dead in one otherwise.

I used to hate make-up and find it to be this long, cumbersome chore that I would lose interest in doing every day, but once I got to sit and experiment on how I personally actually wanted it to look on my face - I fucking loved it. I like experimenting with colors and want to play with more. It appeals to the artist in me to play on a canvas even if that canvas is my face.

Fashion as a whole became a wild new experience. I stopped thinking about what I felt pressured to buy because it would make me look a certain way and what I really, really wanted.  I made a pinterest board of fashion goals and pinned every single thing I could find that I liked - regardless of whether it was a man, woman, or theater major dressed up in costume wearing it so I could identify what I actually wanted.  I dyed my hair pink, but got it cut in a more masculine manner and I fucking love the way I look now.

You might be thinking “Yeah, ok, Tiergan, that’s great and all, but I’m not nonbinary.”

But the funny thing I realised was that even though embracing that I am nonbinary led me to this understanding that I could take back my own power and define for myself what attractiveness truly means for me - this was a thing I could have done at any point in my life if I hadn’t been so buried in all those signals from society on what beauty was supposed to be.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you “just accept ur natural self! Don’t change a thing! Body positivity!!!!!” Because: 1) I know when you’re in a place of feeling super down on yourself, that shit doesn’t help at all and just feels extremely inauthentic. 2) I changed A LOT about myself until I was happy with my appearance. I just didn’t change it in the ways that I previously thought I was ‘supposed’ to.

So instead what I’ll say is that if you’re willing and able, I would set aside an hour or two each week to clear your mind, dig deep, and try to visualize a universe in which nothing anyone else thinks about your appearance matters anymore, because YOU are God.  You have a blank slate.  

There is no pressure to look a certain way to be considered beautiful, because you’re God. You decide what is beautiful..  No one in this universe gives a fuck if you have big tiddies, little tiddes, medium tiddies or any kind of tiddy, because right now the universe is a blank slate and all tiddies are created equal in a blank slate.  No one in this universe cares whether or not you have the perfect heart-shaped feminine face or not, because you’ve not told anyone yet what is considered attractive.  You are the decider of beautiful things.

Now imagine that you, as God of this World, descend down to hang with the mortals.  You can’t really change your body without going back to your old weirdo universe back on Earth, but what you can change is your clothes, your hair, your make-up, etc.  Knowing that this universe is yours and you get to decide what beautiful is for yourself, what would you change?  

Remember, you’re God in this universe you’ve made - so you don’t have to impress fucking anybody.  Anyone who says shit to you gets smited or yeet into the sun.  As a god, you get to wear what makes you feel powerful, majestic, and appropriately godlike - what does that clothing look like?  Can you imagine it?  If it’s hard, maybe pull up pinterest and surf around for your god-clothes.  Would you get stylish sneakers or thigh high boots?  Would you get a lady’s power-suit or a lolita dress?  Would you get some neat unique godly jewelry? (If yes, I recommend Etsy. That site is gonna destroy my fuckin’ destory my wallet.)

What’s your make-up like?  Is it tough to imagine?  Pull up another pinterest. Use it to find your god-makeup.  And hey - are you putting this make-up on because it makes you feel GOOD and POWERFUL like the goddess you are, or to impress the mortals? Because again - you’re god. You don’t have to impress jack shit. This make up is for YOU and what makes you feel GOOD and POWERFUL and GODLIKE.

Do you still care about having bigger boobs? (Did you know a fuckload of actual supermodels and Hollywood actresses have small tiddies? So even in THIS universe, you don’t need big boobs to be beautiful!)  Do you still feel unhappy that your face is kind of androgynous according to the dumbasses back in the vastly inferior universe you originally came from?  Or do things in your universe where you’re god feel pretty great?  I hope so, because gods don’t really have time to worry about the funky assumptions of mere mortals. You’re too busy being fabulous and doing godlike shit.

Hope this sort of helps!

[selfships-in-spanish]

I’m gonna harass u with aus until the day I die ur welcome also here’s a new one wizards Not like Harry Potter type but entire universe is super magical and almost everyone knows how to do magic and those that don’t are kinda second class citizens??? And one if these magicless people is Ona and idk she bumps into Connor and Richard???

YOU’RE WELCOME TO HARASS ME WITH AUS FOR ALL ETERNITY. BRING IT ON.

omdfghdjkhfk okay this is a lovely concept!!!

Connor and Richard being high class wizards, very powerful ones with a very important role wherever they go... and they bump into this magicless, pretty girl, who fell flat on her bum. On a rainy day. Oh well, she can do a little spell and she’s going to be dry and clean in no ti–

Wait.

Something is... off. Why isn’t she drying herself? Why is she staring dumbly at the floor just about to cry or no wait, maybe she’s actually cry–

Oh. She’s one of them.

They normally don’t do this. They pay no mind to those who aren’t born with the gift, so for them to stare at her crying in a puddle while rain pours down, thinking of ways to make it up to her...

“...this was my best dress”.

“Pardon me?” Connor wasn’t sure he heard right.

“This was my best dress! How can I go to that interview now?” her face was wet and red, hiccuping now and then. And angry, so angry. “What am I supposed to do now?!”

Connor’s first response was to say “what do I care?”, but something made him shut the hell up, take that answer and kick it into the sun. Instead, he opted to look like a fish out of the water, mouth open and still trying to think what to say to an enraged, magicless woman who is also tiny and very, very cute. He really shouldn’t go chasing that thought.

She stood up on shaky legs and tried in vain to keep her drenched hair out of her face. The boys bet it would have been a a fluffy mane of hair, judging by the curls that fought against the water.

Richard took a handkerchief off his pocket. To this day, he still doesn’t know what the heck compelled him to take off a handkerchief and offer it for the girl to dry. It’s pretty much kind of useless, given the pouring rain. He never saw someone look at him as if he was fucking stupid. 

“Really?” even if she had hair in her face, her glare was fierce.

“Uh...” Richard took it back, feeling self-conscious of how stupid this it was.

Connor looked at her, looking so miserable and wet, and he felt sorry. It really wasn’t his business, he was an important wizard with important things to do and places to be, he had no time to spare to a magicless girl like her. But... his heart felt a pang, he didn’t know why and wasn’t sure he wanted to think too much about it, but it felt as if some strings pulled at his heart. He glanced at his brother and saw his conflicted expression, not knowing what to do.

It wasn’t their problem. She wasn’t their problem. She...

“Let us make it up to you.” Connor didn’t know if Richard was in the same page, but Connor had a hunch he did.

The girl stared at them as if they suddenly grew a second head.

“...What.” the girl squinted her eyes, a tad suspicious about them both. They were clearly wizards, judging by their expensive clothes and air of superiority in them. They never mingled with those who weren’t magical, even viewed them as inferior beings. So, she had her suspicions, why the hell would they help her out?

“Let us make it up to you, miss...?” Connor tried again.

“Ona.”

“Miss Ona!” Connor offered a smile, making room under his cape and floating umbrella. The girl took prudent steps, not really trusting them. But, what could she do right now? Either way, she’s screwed. “I’m Connor. This is my brother Richard.”

Huh, the names ringed a bell.

“Please, allow me.” Richard took a step towards Connor and Ona, and with a flourish of his hand, she felt and saw the water float away from her clothes, hair, body... and then join the rain. She was still cold, though. Less wet but cold.

“You may not be used to this, so please hold tight on me.”

Ona looked at the one who introduced himself as Connor, frowning. What did he mean by–

She let out a scream followed by colourful curses in another language Connor and Richard vaguely recognized.

Ona found herself in the very private and enormous home of two of the most important wizards that walked the earth, making her a warm cup of tea while her clothes were being cleaned and mended by some sort of spell. She sat in a plush sofa with borrowed clothes far too big on her petite form.

The tea was delicious, though.

“So, interview you said?” Connor tried to make small talk, taking a sip of his cup.

“Well, I can say goodbye to that and to my chances of being hired.” She was so late for it. Goodbye to her chances of working in the big city and earn a decent enough pay.

“Oh, so you’re looking for work?” 

“...Obviously?” was the blue-eyed brother and idiot? 

It seems he realized his words and looked a bit embarrassed by his lack of thought.

“What kind of work?” Connor tried to divert her attention from his brother.

“Honestly? Anything. Right now I’d do about anything.”

Richard had an idea. It would be crazy, even more knowing she was not one of them, but... It seems today fortune smiled on her.

“Are you any good with plants?”

“Well, I worked at my grandma’s florist until she was forced to close it down.” It was a bittersweet memory. She loved working there, she loved the plants and flowers, the calmness and feeling the earth on her fingers, walking around to see the plants green and healthy... only to be taken away.

“How so?” the blue-eyed brother, Richard was it? Spoke to her, seeming concerned. Why would he be?

“You can guess it just fine, seeing I’m not gifted as you are.”

“...Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” She took another sip from her cup. She’d love to know which blend was it. “So yes, I know my way around plants.”

Richard hummed and glanced quickly at Connor. They had the same idea.

“What would you say if we offer you employment?” Connor set his cup on the table, crossing his legs and putting his hands on the raised knee. Richard kept drinking, staring intently at the girl.

“I would ask if this is a joke and if I can go home, because it’s not funny.” The brothers stared at her in confusion.

“We offer you accommodations, food and a salary.” Connor tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips.

“Your job would consist on tending to our garden and greenhouse, since we cannot do it due to our busy schedules.”

“...but?” This was too good to be true.

“But? No buts. You take care of our plants, we pay you for it.” Connor was frowning now.

There was an awkward silence. Ona was thinking about how crazy this was and how there should be something, a red flag somewhere. There was a ruffling sound that distracter her from her thoughts, and saw her clothes floating to her, neatly folding themselves on her side. They were the cleanest she has ever seen them. She was afraid to touch them in case she dirtied them again.

“Think it over.” Richard took her out of her reveries.

“Uh, well...”

“Contact us with your answer.” Connor stood up, smiling, and with a snap of his fingers he opened up a portal. “This will take you home. Go on!”

Ona felt herself be pushed to it, trying to make her mouth and brain coordinate to say something. Just on the final moment, turning away while feeling the portal suck her up, she had time to spit out something she hoped the brothers would understand.

“But how am I supposed to contact you if I’m not–”

And the portal closed. Ona found herself on her front door, arm raised and her clothes smelling of lavender. Once she stepped in, she went to sit down on her tattered sofa, leaving her clean clothes next to her.

A week passes and the brothers were annoyed she didn’t reply, so of course they go to her. She owed them that much! 

They follow the path she did on the portal and step on her front door, ringing incessantly her doorbell. When she opens the door she almost falls on her ass, again. They looked angry and when a wizard was angry at a non-gifted, that only meant trouble.

“Are you incapable of following a simple request?” Connor’s foot was tapping at the floor, clearly annoyed. Richard had his arms behind his back, spine straight that made him appear bigger.

Ona gripped the handle, but fuck it if she wasn’t gonna go out leaving a piece of her mind.

“Are you two deaf or just plain stupid?” both brothers looked greatly offended at her words. How dare she!

“Listen, you non-gifted–”

“No, you listen you stupid wizard,” Ona puffed her chest out. Fuck it. “What part of “how am I supposed to contact you” do you not understand? I have no magic in me, no training, no idea, nothing! How do you think I’m going to be able to send a message or something if I have absolutely no idea to reach you?”

The brothers were taken aback by her outburst. 

“Did you seriously expect me, a non-gifted, to send you whatever the fuck you wizards use to send messages?” She pointed her finger at them, poking their chests. “For all those airs of grandeur you give yourselves, you’re so fucking dumb.” 

At least they had the decency of looking ashamed.

“And for the record, I would have said yes.” She took big breaths after giving them a piece of her mind. After a big sigh, she opened her door further. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ona never thought she would have two powerful and important wizards on her tattered sofa, looking like two scolded kids and trying so hard not to anger her further.

And also, she never thought she would be working for them after all that happened. Fortune smiled at her, indeed.

[roxannepolice]

But yah rey as a character is just so frustrating you know? Cause like, yeah sure she could be complex with a powerful arc where shes forced to come to terms with the fact she wasted years of her life on self-imposed delusions in a cathartic way, or she could be a flat piece of marketing cardboard which Disney is banking on vagina+superpowers=profit without having to go through that persnicty character flaw overcoming or the like. Because like you said, hearing shes a nobody (which ngl, her assuming she was a somebody wasn’t really ever supported in tfa, just that her family was coming back and she desperately wanted them to) is apparently the worst thing but it changes absolutely nothing, not her approach, not her demeanor , if vaguely sad is the absolute worse a character is gonna experience in a goddamn space opera then yeah, full offense ill take the l on Mary sue discourse but her character will definitely be a boring ass wash. We all make fun of whiny new hope Luke but him being a kinda nuisance to both the audience and those around him is what made is transformation into full blown Jedi knight so powerful. With Rey so far what weve got is badass perfect cinnamon roll finally get her due as such, which is clearly working for some people, but I fail to see how that isn’t spectacularly tone deaf to make a protag in this genre such. Operas about drama, not patting you on the back. Rey (assuming she remains as is) would’ve been fine as a protag s the only piece of Star Wars media we ever got was a new hope. But rn she a chosen one architype (and I know that bunch of ppl are gonna go but the series ‘but shes not the chosen one, Anakin still is, the new series isn’t trying to make her one!’ but lets not beat around the burning bush, if u got a character that walks on water and the reason why is because god said so, ur dealing with a chosen one trope and if a character is star wars is made ultrapowerful in lore breaking ways because force said so? Yeah were dealing with a chosen one.) when we had both the deconstruction and the reconstruction done. Shes a straight hero when the success of the ot rest on hitting the formula near perfect the first time. What exactly is Rey, the individual character, bringing to the table? What makes her story supposedly so important the a perfectly good ending had to be made invalid to tell it? A bunch of ppl will say heroines’ journey! But if that’s the case I gotta say, wheres all the feminine shit? Im serious, if the heroines journey is reintegrating the feminine and realizing ‘oh shit mom had a point’ there where is both the feminine skills/coping mechanism and the mom? I mean I saw some ppl arguing for leia in a ‘reys Persephone!’ meta (she isn’t, you can make a much better case for ben himself as Persephone to be quite frank, yall are focusing so much on the trees ((girl gets abducted by guy)) that u forgot the forest existed, the actually story ((girl winds up queen on the underworld, well gee whiz which character just took control of that after leaving the world of living and a grieving divine mother behind, it’s a mystery apparently) behind, it’s a mystery apparently) ((but seriously though even if we hope for dark rey does anyone assume its gonna be taking control of a dark/dead coded org at least partially at this point, do you, do you really??). but given the fact she had what, one line of screen dialogue that’s breaking ur arm with that stretch. As far as skills go I guess you could make an argument for scavenging, but if that’s the case dlf did a shit job of conveying that as female-coded. Everything about rey in tfa seems deliberately androgynous, and yeah, she had her hair let down/mascara moment, but that’s tied to her ‘failure’ on the supremacy thus something nw.SPEAKIGN OF FAILURES ON THE SUPERAMCY AND LACK THERE OF. I find it kind funny that bunch of reylo bnfs (you know who they are) are all ‘hur dur fanboys/antis are dumb and don’t get story structure.’ And then going, ‘why are yall asking how/assuming rey fucked up in throne room/climax of her story in the second portion/darkest point of her character arc? Why do you hate women/ur own ovaries so much?’ because it like walking into a prefurnished house and being told by the relator ‘HERES THE LIVING ROOM’ and having no damn couch. It’s a living room, I expect a couch here. And in a movie where it’s the low point of a character arc and they drag puppet yoda out to tell me the movie is about failure, I expect a damn failure in whats clearly the climax of the characters arc for this movie. As it stands now there are three possibilities imo. 1st, rey had no failure, she is the pure badass maid o light ppl want and every inch the boring cardboard she is accused of by fanbros, remains static, and is relegated to an also ran to benlo taking the most compelling character trophy this trilogy in 10 yrs2nd possibility and the one im hoping for, failure speech wasn’t just thematic explanation but also foreshadowing, rey fucks up big and dramatic in a way that makes her manage to stand out as unique with both her contemporaries and her predecessors(last part, if its ever to much lemme know pls im sorry i just gotta get it out) 3rd and most likely possibility, rey isn’t the main character, benlo is and that’s why his failure both moral in the throne room and logistic on criat take center stage for the last third or so of the movie. Rey is merely a pov character to tell the dramatic villain protag story they wanted and have their very marketable unproblematic Disney heroine cake too.

Ok, so this discourse kinda died down by now, but thanks to that it’s possible to maybe have a calmer look at it I’m totally not trying to justify my late response.

Anyway, the good result is that quite recently my brother, who’s not overly taken with Rey - or the sequels in general, for that matter - said something which really stuck with me as a possible crux of the problem: 

She’s neither comical nor tragical. Just bland. 

This neither comical nor tragical really struck me. And the more I though about it, the more it was appearing to me that this qualm really applies to the sequels as a whole. The thing is that DLF are essentially telling a straightforward story that they’re trying to make captivatingly convoluted. And not just make, but keep this appearance over four years. And this is... a narrative teeth crasher. Like, when you’re honest about the endgame (in the context of the most structural meanings of comedy and tragedy), you can maintain a decorum, though you can also play with it, of course, whereas when you don’t want to be honest about the endgame, you end up mixing the styles somewhat messily. You can’t break or discuss with the rules without acknowledging them, so to speak. Because the originals were honest about the happy/hopeful endgame (the first episode is title A New Hope ffs), they could allow themselves deeply tragic moments like Larses’ deaths, Han getting frozen, destruction of Alderaan, etc. Because the prequels were open about being a tragedy, they could allow themselves lighthearted comic relief for the sake of lighthearted comic relief. 

The sequels... badly want us to consider the possibility of FO winning and Ben dying unredeemed while simultaneously insisting we root for those things not happening, while appearing conscious we’re definitely not buying the former and the latter only somewhat. And it’s tiresome. Dishonest. And indeed, bland. If the story is a tragedy it will be a bloodcurdlingly real one, if it’s a comedy it will be a borderline grotesque one. 

But yeah, returning to Rey, I guess as the main character she’s a lens which focuses the above problems. A very bitter tragedy of what her parents did t her prevents her from being comfortably comical whereas whoohooos I like thats and prancing like a husky on red bull over idols and visions because it’s for children so it must be hopeful prevents her from being intriguingly tragical. So I guess the intentioned effect was tragicomism but, from pov of an engaged casual fan that is my bro, it’s neither. 

As far as Rey’s heroine’s journey lacking some of the usual elements, I blame it on Disney being... a bit too ambitious, maybe. I think they tried to make a heroine’s journey that isn’t ostentaciously seeped in traditional feminine/masculine traits, maintains the structure without what could be called accidentals. On the one hand, I would point out that hero’s journey has pretty much desexualised itself over time, we are rather accustomed to “shero’s” journeys, but on the other... maybe Disney set out on a too novel a territory and may crack their teeth on it, alongside trying to out-Vader Vader at redemption. To elucidate, “toxic femininity” in which a heroine is supposed to find herself in the beginning of her journey, in Rey’s case is uprooted from any of our usual concepts of feminine-masculine social roles (it’s space, duh). My interpretation is that Rey’s version of toxic femininity kind of exists in contrast with Kylo Ben’s version of toxic masculinity - and since the apparent focus of the story is the attitude towards the past/parent figures, toxic femininity would mean her clutching onto the past. Which is why I predict that some act of IX will find Rey inebriated with apparent success in masculine world, meaning she’ll be the one rejecting the old gods this time - and I would point out that panel in Poe comic where she shows herself more sceptical towards idolisation of past don’t mind me, I’m just expressingmy trash dreams for a proper sith lady Rey.

Then again, Rian Johnson said she already found perfect balance between Luke’s clinginess and Kylo’s rejection of the past, so... idk, maybe I’m giving DLF too much credit again.

As for the Persephone thing, I guess the rub is that this reylo reading focuses less on the traditional reading of the myth (where Demeter is the actual main character and Kore is a Princess Peach MacGuffin) and more of an interpretation of it as one of the eldest (at least in Europe) versions of story depicting a transition of a girl into a woman, making Persephone more of a protagonist. 

Like, y’know, this Persephone (D. G. Rosetti, source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proserpine_(Rossetti_painting))

I’m no expert, but myths can lose their original meanings because of power relations (anyone still remember about Dionysus, the god associated with excessive drinking, going through a very Christ-like death and resurrection?) and I think it’s possible that this is the case with the story of Persephone becoming a pre-scientific explanation of seasons changing over the year. So teah, that’s how I always understood the Persephone theme regarding Rey.

But yes, I must agree that I’m confused about Disney’s handling of the mother figure, which... Look, SW became a legend of a modern myth because of how epically Lucas handled the hero dealing with his very explicit father. So yes, I don’t understand what exactly is their game with Rey Nobody from Nowhere in this regard. It’s one thing that they had a cool idea with giving her no lineage, another that parent figures are an essential element of archetypal journeys and from symbolic viewpoint the case of a female character the biological relationship is even more crucial than in male’s. And I swear to all the ewoks and porgs in the galaxy, I do hope Disney’s idea of Rey healing the mother/daughter divide isn’t through her healing the divide between Leia and Ben. Again, this isn’t the idealistic sphere. Just... no. 

Anyway, I still maintain hope (this whole meta blog is built on hope) that Rey will indeed turn out to have a proper personal mistake which will make her stand out in the saga. I do have to admit, though, that I find your last theory very likely. I mean, even when I read all the reylo metas going oh, Rey is going to have such an exciting arc in IX, she has so much to deal with though of course it’s not going to compromise her morally, it will be sooo exciting, I just... f*ck’s sake, what you’re describing isn’t a dramatic character only a dramatised role model. It’s great if that’s your thing, but don’t claim it is space opera-worthy, in operas people drown themselves because of cursed sailors, kill over a break up, decapitate over a bad dream and get dragged to hell over a dinner, not persuade their fallen lovers to change their ways, let alone patienly wait for them the understand the error of their ways (and if they do it’s doomed to end in someone dying).

[ravenofthefandoms]

Here are my thoughts on S8E2!

REAL QUICK THO AN ANGRY REMINDER

If you’re gonna post about an episode after watching the leak TAG UR SHIT I saw way too many spoilers and literally two hours before it aired. If you can’t tag ur shit then don’t post at all until it’s over. At least then most people have seen it. If you don’t tag ur shit then ur legally an asshole so be careful

ANYWAYS Thoughts from S8E2:

- Hi yeah did Dany kinda forget that her dad was the Mad King or is she just gonna act like she’s the only one with the right to want Jaime dead?

- Also I love how she’s like “your sister lied to me wut you gonna do about it”

- She needs to step oFF of Tyrion

- I hope Jaime really does slit Dany’s throat tbh how great would that be

- Bran is great fuckin hilarious

- YAS BRIENNE DEFEND YO MANZ

- God I love Sansa so freaking much 😭 she actually values her advisors opinions unlike another queen I know

- I love how Dany expects Jon to be like “yeah babe whatever you want” and then he’s like “nah Sansa’s right”

- Grey Worm I love you but you’re not intimidating buddy I’m sorry

- Jonno does a 10/10 walkout

- Tyrion you don’t deserve this work environment abuse go give your wisdom to someone else who deserves it

- Mmmmmmm Gendry what a man

- “It’s strong enough” what ur dick?

- “What do they smell like?” What kinda question is that wtf

- PSA: sharp objects handled by Arya Stark turn on Gendry pass it on

- Arya Stark, Queen of BDE

- Fuck yes I love this Bran and Jaime reunion

- Bran is like it’s chill tbh it’s like a good thing that you pushed me out the window and made me a cripple cuz now we’re here and I’m a magical motherfucker

- Bran is the most understanding person ever after he became the Three Eyed Raven

- “She’s your new queen too” mmm no

- Actually, contrary to popular belief Tyrion, it’s not hard to blame her

- Tyrion is both smart and a dumbass at the same time how the fuck

- Jaime’s like a dog who just heard a squirrel like “????brienne?????”

- Podrick isn’t a boy anymore HE IS MY MANZ AND HUSBAND AND HOLY FUCK HE GOT HOT SO FAST LIKE THE LIGHT FACIAL HAIR? WET. SWORD FIGHTING SKILLS? WET.

- Awww Brienne and Jaime are like the awkward high schoolers who have a thing for each other

- Why does Jorah still call her Khaleesi

- I’m glad Jorah isn’t a dumb bitch. Like he literally betrayed Dany to her brother’s killer and she still forgave him but Tyrion decides to trust his sister for once??? Nope he fucked up too bad not trustworthy

- Uhhh the position wasn’t Jorah’s to be stolen

- This scene is proof that Daensa will never happen and I am glad for it

- “I wish I could have that kind of faith in my advisors” uhh??? Maybe get some new advisors then??? You should trust them??? That’s why they’re your advisors????

- PREACH SANSA CLAPBACK ON THAT BITCH BEING A HYPOCRITE

- Uh no a) the northerners accept Sansa pretty well they actually like her and b) you’re not doing a damn good job of it dumb bitch

- Uh the family that destroyed Sansa was your family dumb bitch

- Is this bitch really making the excuse that she was manipulated?¿?

- This bitch big stupid

- This scene literally reminds me of high school like Dany literally reminds me of those fake ass bitches who were sickly sweet just to get what they want from me like wtf Dany is so obviously fake that it makes me cringe

- BREAKER OF CHAINS MY ASS THE NORTH BROKE THEIR OWN CHAINS AND NOW YOU WANNA PUT THEM BACK ON DUMB BITCH EHHA (read that ehha as Cardi B)

- THEOOOOOOON YAS

- I love how he just ignores Dany and is like SANSA I WANNA SERVE U BB

- Suddenly I ship Theonsa

- This Theonsa hug is all I have ever needed in life

- Isn’t that the thief from Merlin?

- I love that little Irish girl who’s like “imma fight give me a sword” like is this Arya 2.0??

- I heart Gilly

- “I’ll defend the crypt then” YES YOU WILL LIL HUNNY YOU’LL DO A DAMN GOOD JOB OF IT TOO

- EDDAAAAAAAY AND TORMUND YAS MY FAVE BITCHES

- Tormund is like surprise bitch you getta hug me first

- Beric is basically that cool as fuck and chill as hell uncle

- “The big woman”

- We love a Jon Snow pep talk

- Bran is like “hi yeah I’d like to be uhhh bait”

- Damn Samwell you didn’t have to flex on us like that with that deep thinking aight

- YES THEON REDEMPTION ARC AS FUCK

- Noooooo let Tyrion fight you ain’t his boss bitch (I mean you are but)

- Need it for what? Taking over the north?

- “No one’s ever tried” hehe I’m in danger

- Stark fam looking badass as fuck

- Walkout #2 isn’t as smooth but still acceptable

- “It’s a long story” bitch I got time start talking

- I CACKLED when those girls walked away from Missandei like I felt bad but that was just such a “you can’t sit with us” moment

- CAN GREY WORM AND MISSANDEI JUST GO TO NARTH AND STAY THERE FOREVER AND GROW OLD TOGETHER PLEASE

- WE WILL PROTECT YOU IM CRYINGGGGG

- Ghost is that you homie????

- Awww the Nights Watch reunion made me tear up a lil

- Sam’s like “I AINT NO BITCH I KILLED A WHITE WALKER KILLED A THENN AND STOLE BOOKS FROM THE CITADEL IM THE BADDEST BITCH AROUND”

- I love this banter with my whole entire heart

- i miss grenn and pyp so much I’m crying grenn was my pre-Pod husband

- I love Lannister brother moments so much they are so pure

- Oprah is handing out redemption arcs left and right wOw

- PODRICK HE IS A MAN NOW HE IS MY HUSBAND HE IS JUST SO SEXY NOW

- CACKLINGGGGG “half a cup” pours in half the wine jug

- What a squad

- TORMUND MAKES ME LAUGH SO FUCKIN MUCH

- He’s the awkward kid who tells weird stories and then does weird shit

- “Kingslayer get it right” - Jaime on the inside

- Everyone just has a “wtf” look on their face and I’m dying

- I. AM. CACKLING. AT. TORMUND. SEND HELP

- I fucking love Sandor with my entire heart and soul

- “I fought for you didn’t I?” Touche you got her there

- *sandor doesn’t get to sit by himself* fINE WHY DOESNT THE WHOLE FUCKING NORTH COME SIT BY ME TOO HUH IF YOU ALL WANT TO. CROWD. ME HUH???

- “I’m not gonna sit with you old shits I’m gonna go fuck a bull I mean uhhhhh I gotta go ”

- Arya being lowkey jealous makes me cackle like a witch

- “Is that your first time?” “Well yeah Arya I don’t put leeches all over my dick every time I get home wtf”

- YES ARYA GET THAT DICK HUNTY YASS RIDE HIM TO STORMS END HUNTY YAAAAAAS

- ARYA IS DOM AND GENDRY IS SUB PASS IT ON

- Arya having her first time be CONSENSUAL and with someone she loves makes me happy as fUCK

- GENDRY IS THE PUREST MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR (only after Pod though)

- All I want at this point in my life is for Podrick to hold me in his big strong arms like I just wanna cuddle him fUCK

- “Not a Ser?? Why the fuck not get outta here with that bullshit”

- “I never wanted to be a knight” Podrick: I call bULLSHIT

- Tormund is supportive of Brienne even when she’s dating another guy he doesn’t even care

- WE WAITED SO LONG FOR BRIENNE AND JAIME TO HAVE A ROMANTIC AND INTIMATE MOMENT AND WE GOT AND BRIENNE EVEN GOT WHAT SHE DESERVES OUT OF IT

- Podrick is Brienne’s proud son I am living for it

- BRIENNE’S SMILE IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND PRECIOUS THING ON THIS WHOLE ENTIRE EARTH IT MUST BE PROTECTED

- Honestly Tormund just wants to see Brienne happy and successful and tbh I don’t think he would care if that meant that she was with Jaime

- I stg if anything happens to babygirl Lyanna i will throw fists she looks like such a little bad ass in her armor omg she’s adorable

- Yeah Jorah you don’t gotta wield it in Randals memory he was kind of an asshole

- Can Podrick sing me to sleep every night please holy fUCK

- Theonsa? Check. Gendrya? Check. Grey Worm and Missandei? Check. Podrick making my whole self thirsty for him? Check.

- Uhhh Daenerys are you not gonna be concerned that you were idk fuckin your nephew or maybe that you aren’t the last Targaryen???? Maybe something important like that not the Iron fucking Throne???

- This bitch really thinks that Bran and Sam were lying hAh she drank a lot of dumb bitch juice this episode

- Daenerys is like those anti-vaxxers or flat earthers who refuse to see the facts

- Fun fact: episode 3 is going to tear out my heart and soul, put them in a blender, and then fucken shook it until it exploded like a coke with a mento in it

- I read somewhere that said something to the effect of characters who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it and that sounds like Dany w/ the Mad King to me rn

- Honestly every time Dany talked in this episode I got pissed off so that’s not good

- People be like “aw this episode was so boring” like bITCH ARE YALL MISSING THESE GREAT DOMESTIC MOMENTS?? GAME OF THRONES ISNT ALL STABBY AND SHIT IT CAN BE NICE FOR ONCE

- This episode made my heart full and I’m going to cry

- Ummmmm in case y’all haven’t seen in Dan Portman (Podrick) posted on his Instagram and it may or may not be a spoiler and if it is then I’ll kill myself