#jewel swoosh

[snkrbonbon]

Nike Air Force 1 Low "Bronze Jewel"

[freshthoughts2020]

[dippedanddripped]

NIKE Air Force 1 Low Orange Jewel

[shoegvme]

[transjordanli]

Golden boy. Golden girl.

The two lock eyes and all Jordan can do is gulp. Marie eyes the scene she’s walked in on. Being ever so perceptive, she takes note of the mess of clothes and makeup. She sees that Jordan is flushed, wearing pants they definitely wouldn’t wear with that tank.

“Oh princess,” Marie coos, closing the door behind her and walking up to her partner. “Having a weird gender day?” She asks, voice ever so gentle and kind. Not a hint of condescension or pity.

OR

An exploration into Jordan’s upbringing and identity. And how they’ve finally found a safe space.

AO3 link

The phrase “Golden boy” has always had more than one meaning for Jordan Li. Thanks to Luke, the name wasn’t as painful anymore. But it still stung, but now for more than one reason.

The first time they heard “Golden Boy” uttered from their father’s lips was after their elementary school spelling bee. They pulled their first all nighter the day before studying their ass off. In hindsight, it paid off since they won. But they didn’t know that it was going to be the start of those two words haunting them for their entire life.

Jordan often found solace in their mom’s closet. They loved exploring the large walk in closet, door securely closed behind them. They were particularly drawn to her jewelry cabinet. They’d set it in their lap and would lose themselves in the tiny drawers, running their fingers along the cool jewels and silver and gold. But they were especially fascinated with pearls. Much to Jordan’s delight, Mrs. Li had quite the extensive pearl collection.

One day, a tiny 9 year old Jordan took out one of their mother’s pearl necklaces. This one was a simple string of pearls with a silver heart pendant. They stood in front of the mirror, admiring the necklace. They slipped it over their head. And within a flash, they grew an inch and their hair grew to their shoulder blades.

Although shocked at the sudden shift in appearance, the young kid couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of how their hair now fell over their shoulders. The elegant pearl necklace seemed to pop out even more with their shiny, black hair cascading down. With a giant goofy grin, Jordan couldn’t stop swooshing their hair side to side. They ran their fingers through the locks as well as the pearls sitting atop their neck. It just felt right. They felt free.

And then their parents barged in, the euphoria of that moment coming to an abrupt end. Without realizing, Jordan shifted back. Their newly long hair went back to short and tight around their ears.

Mr Li. got down on one knee and yanked the necklace off so fast that the piece broke in his hands. The pearls exploded in a frenzy. The sound of the tiny pearls rolling along the wood floor echoed loudly, filling the tense silence that was between the three family members.

After what felt like ages, Mr. Li brought the tiny child into his arms and whispered into their skin.

“You do have powers… I knew you would. My golden boy.”

After that day, the Li’s made it very clear that they were over the moon about their child’s super abilities. But with terms and conditions. They pushed Jordan to be the best they could be, academically and physically whilst supporting them in every extra curricular.

But they were only allowed to compete in boys track and field. They had to wear a button down shirt, slacks, and a tie during debate. They had to perform at orchestra concerts in a 3 piece black suit.

There was no room for discussion of anything else. Anything remotely feminine was out of the question. So eventually Jordan just stopped trying. They found themselves compartmentalizing integral parts of who they are just to please the people around them - parents, peers, and partners alike. They tried their best to adhere and conform to this idea of masculinity. Because if they were a boy, they would excel in whatever they put their mind to. If they were a boy, they would be respected.

And it fucking hurt. Mrs. Li locked her jewelry cabinet, forbidding Jordan to look let alone wear any jewelry. Same with her makeup.

They went through two separate puberty’s and had to go through it alone. They weren’t allowed access to training bras or tampons/pads, so they had to steal whatever they could find at school.

The only time they felt safe enough to shift was during the dead of night. Once they knew their parents were asleep, they’d stand in front of their bedroom mirror and analyze what they saw staring back. While their broad shoulders and sharp lines and angles are indeed a part of them, it wasn’t all of Jordan. And in a flash, they were met with a shorter version of themselves. They eyeballed their curves and soft skin. Their jet black hair that hung low on their shoulders and long eye lashes batting softly. It felt like they could breathe again, if only for a little while.

Once they graduated high school and got accept to Godolkin University, there was still an air of uneasiness surrounding shifting and being themselves. The school did pride themselves on diversity and inclusion, yes. But to what extent?

They still pushed themselves to be the best. Because as they quickly learned, being an Asian bigender superhero isn’t the marketable American dream. But they met people along the way.

Andre, Luke, and Cate were the first people in their life to love all of them. They weren’t “too complicated” to be understood. They didn’t have to be just One Thing around them. They were free to be themselves, however that may look.

Luke, precious Golden Boy, was the first person to ask them what pronouns and gendered terms they preferred. Taken aback and being so restricted throughout their life, Jordan tearfully answered that they didn’t actually know. Luke took it upon himself to help them explore what felt right and comfortable. And for that, Jordan is eternally grateful.

Cate was the first girl friend they’ve ever had. Well, the first one who knew all of them at least. She bought Jordan their first few pieces of makeup: mascara, black pencil eyeliner, lip gloss, and a neutral color eyeshadow palette. After many personal failed attempts, Cate helped them learn how to actually use the products on their face. She went through a similar experience whenever she enrolled at God U, and she made it her personal mission to not let Jordan walk around looking like a clown like she did.

They’ve come so far in their personal growth and understanding of who they are. They are a boy, just not all the time. And they are a girl, just not all the time. And finally, at last, that’s okay! It’s okay that their identity isn’t the norm. They’re allowed to be themselves unapologetically. Yeah, they’re still working some things out in terms of gender expression, but isn’t everyone? The point is, they’re at a place to where never have to compartmentalize parts of themselves to “fit in” or make others lives easier again.

Which is why they can’t, for the life of them, understand why they’re finding themselves doing it again. They’ve worked so hard at unlearning self sabotaging behaviors. But the second Marie Moreau came into their life with her gentle, big brown eyes they were a goner.

They know she isn’t a shitty person. And yeah, there is literal video evidence of Marie enjoying their female form. But that voice in the back of their head telling them that masculinity equals safety is a relentless motherfucker.

So now Jordan is sat at their desk wearing nothing but a bra, grey tank, and briefs in their fem form. They are…completely dumbfounded about what to do for their date night. It looks like a Sephora threw up on their desk; they have their small but mighty collection of makeup scattered everywhere. Their dorm itself isn’t in much better shape. They took out all of their clothes, trying on every article of clothing they own but nothing feeling right.

Their clothes are pretty gender neutral by design. Sizing is tricky as it has to fit both forms, so buying from the men’s section is usually the rule of thumb. But they’ve never allowed themselves to wear anything more feminine. Do they want to? God yes. Especially now. But they’re terrified.

“Jordan?”

A soft knock is echoed by their name being called, snapping Jordan out of their thoughts. They swing their head towards the clock, processing it’s already 6:30. Which means they’ve spent the last 2 hours getting absolutely fucking no where.

“Uh, h-hold on!” They quickly stutter out, stumbling out of their chair and throwing on the first pair of pants they find. With a sense of mania, they start throwing the mess they’ve made into their closet as quick as they can.

“Babe, it sounds like you’re doing construction? I’m coming in!” Marie announces, opening the door just as Jordan is shoving 4 pairs of shoes into their closet.

The two lock eyes and all Jordan can do is gulp. Marie eyes the scene she’s walked in on. Being ever so perceptive, she takes note of the mess of clothes and makeup. She sees that Jordan is flushed, wearing pants they definitely wouldn’t wear with that tank.

“Oh princess,” Marie coos, closing the door behind her and walking up to her partner. “Having a weird gender day?” She asks, voice ever so gentle and kind. Not a hint of condescension or pity.

Jordan blinks rapidly, trying to stop the tears from forming. Their shoulders start to shake and that’s all Marie needs to see before wrapping the smaller girl up in her arms.

“Shhh…. It’s okay baby. You’re okay.” Marie affirms, rubbing Jordan’s shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Tell me what I can do.”

“I,” Jordan lets out a single watery albeit frustrated chuckle.

“I don’t even know. I-I just wanted to look…” They trail off, scared of even saying it out loud.

After a few beats of silence, Marie figures Jordan is done trying to explain. So she carefully tries to finish the thought.

“You wanted to look pretty, right? That’s why all of your makeup is out and why you’re wearing a bra today.” She notes gently, swaying the two of them side to side. She feels Jordan nod into her chest, nuzzling themselves deeper into her as if trying to hide from the world.

She doesn’t want her partner to feel ashamed for anything, especially this. So she unwraps her arms from their form and takes their face into her hands. She gently cradles their jaw, wiping their tears with her thumb.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” Marie says with a gentle smile, “and I love you. All of you, okay?”

Jordan feels their eyes well up once again and they nod, their lips trembling. They lean up and plant a gentle kiss on Marie’s lips, placing their hand on top of hers on their jaw.

Marie smiles into the kiss, humming softly before pulling back ever so slightly.

“Can I try something? You trust me, right?” She asks softly, taking both of their hands in hers.

“Of course.” They answer instantly without a second thought.

Satisfied, Marie gently leads them back to their desk. They take a seat and the taller girl wastes no time getting to work.

“I saw this eye look on IG and saved it so fast for you…I think you’d look incredible. I’ve been trying to find the right time to try to do your makeup.” She explains as she props her phone up for the video tutorial and cracks her knuckles.

“I’m so excited. And very lucky I have such a gorgeous canvas…” Marie grins, gently buffing out the peach color shadow.

“Oh hush up, Moreau.” Eyes closed, Jordan sticks their tongue out. They don’t need to have their eyes open to know Marie is grinning ear to ear right now.

“It’s true! This wouldn’t work on any ‘ol canvas, ya know. I am a highly trained professional artist, of course, but the prettier the canvas the better.” She jokes, continuing to carefully work on their eyeshadow.

“Now open up,” With Jordan’s eyes now open, Marie picks up a dark brown eyeliner pencil and applies it from the middle of their lid to the outer corner, dragging it a bit below their lid. Motioning for them to look up, she applies the same eyeliner to their lower eyelid, middle to end. She buffs it out with the same peach shadow color.

“Almost done!” Marie grabs a palette with a gold tinted glitter and gently pats some onto their index finger before patting it in their inner corner.

She picks up a pink nude lip tint and gloss, applying them carefully onto their lips.

“God I’m so glad you’re not white. I couldn’t do this shit on white people lips!” Marie exhales as if completely relieved. And this alone causes Jordan to double over laughing - the first genuine laugh Marie has heard since she’s walked in. And she can’t get enough.

“Just a bit of mascaraaaaa….” Marie trails, being extra careful to not stab her partner in the eye. “And done!”

She throws the tube onto the table and takes a step back, admiring her work. Her stomach starts to flutter. Jordan looks ethereal.

“O-oh wow….” She stutters out, “I really outdid myself.”

Jordan face flushes once again. They’re still not used to compliments regarding their femininity. They’ve been called hot and every other synonym many times while masc, but it feels a lot more intimate when they’re in their fem form.

“Can I see?” They ask, voice small but with a hint of excitement.

“Of course, my love.” She takes Jordan’s hand and pulls them up. She walks them to their full body mirror, turning on the lamp so they can get a real good look.

Jordan lets out a sharp inhale the second they see their reflection. The makeup is subtle but just enough to really accentuate their features and eye shape. They look… beautiful. And they finally feel it too.

“Oh my god,” Jordan leans in, inspecting their face closer at every single angle. “You-you did amazing. Thank you.”

Without missing a beat, they turn around and practically throw themselves into Marie’s arms, hugging her tight. Marie chuckles and hugs them back just as tight.

“Anything for you, my golden girl.” Marie coos, breaking the hug and opting to kiss their now glossy lips.

Jordan heart flips at the phrase golden girl. They don’t think they’ve told anyone about that painful nickname, let alone Marie. But it sounds… right coming from her lips. It’s safe.

“Don’t want to ruin your makeup,” She says into the kiss, grin and all.

“Mm, of course of course.” Jordan jokes, still flushed, before breaking the kiss.

“We may have missed the movie buuuut I’m starving. How about we head to the mall? I want to get my baby girl a pretty outfit.” Marie asks as she grabs Jordan’s silk bomber jacket from their now messy closet and helping them put it on.

“I, you….” Jordan starts, but Marie’s face makes it clear she’s not budging. Her stubbornness is one of Jordan’s favorite things about her.

Knowing they won’t win, they sigh and concede. “Fine. But I’m at least paying for our pizza, okay?”

Marie claps her hands in satisfaction and is already opening the door. “Works for me. Now let’s go - I wanna show you off!”

Marie grabs their hand in and pulls them out the door and doesn’t let go. And Jordan never wants her to.

[bubblegum-blackwood]

Vamptember Day 15 - Dress-Up

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Riccardo pounced, laughing at Amadeo’s groan.

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to get your pretty little ass out of bed,” the older boy grinned as Amadeo swatted his hands away.

“All right, all right, just get off of me, then.”

When Amadeo sat up, Riccardo realised that he had been using the Master’s red velvet cloak as a blanket, and he laughed again. “Look at you, in the Master’s clothes! You look fit to be a prince.”

“I’m the Master of the House now,” Amadeo drew himself up to his full (admittedly, not that impressive) height, swooshing the garment behind him as he slid off of the bed. He pointed one ringed finger at his friend. “Fetch me my wine.”

“At your service, your grace,” Riccardo smiled with a sweeping bow, trotting over to pour two glasses of the stuff. “Cheers,” their glasses tinkled against each other as they made a toast to little Prince Amadeo. “Now, if you’re going to be a prince, you’ll need more than just that,” Riccardo rustled through the Master’s closet, bringing out a hat to place on Amadeo’s head. It was too big for him, and it slipped down, almost completely covering his eyes, as they giggled together. “There’s your crown,” Riccardo grinned, running back to fetch a pair of the Master’s boots, which swallowed Amadeo’s legs up past the boy’s knees as Riccardo helped him into them. The pitter-patter of Riccardo’s feet running back and forth to the closet and back to dress Amadeo up in oversized jewels and finery while the little prince sipped his wine accompanied their soft, boyish laughter ever so pleasantly, and they collapsed into each other in a fit of giggles as Amadeo tried to gather enough breath to say, “Now I just need a paintbrush. I’ll shut myself up for hours and not speak to anybody all night as I make little bugs on the wall.”

“Oh, you’re naughty, making fun of him like that.”

“You want naughty? I can be naughty.” and Amadeo raised his hand and smacked him on the ass.

“Hey!” Riccardo laughed, unsuccessfully dodging a second slap.

“Two for flinching,” Amadeo winked, and Riccardo rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face.

Read the rest on AO3!

[olliethescribe]

Oh look, it’s propaganda @tmntausummit ! The second I saw that it was gonna be a fashion show, I had to send my most fashionable lads. ***

“You’ve got the goods!”

The boombox in front of them stood proud, a sleek confidence packaged into each circuit running through it, likened to veins pumping the life-saving funk of eighties groove into its stereo heart. A Prince-inspired beat blared into the open air, taking any listeners (un)lucky enough to be caught in its radius on a one way trip to Project Runway. Well, not quite, but a fashion montage nonetheless. 

Speaking of said listeners, well…

Five minutes earlier

“Are you absolutely sure the failsafe is in place, Donatello?” The magician tsked as he looked the finished piece over.

It didn’t take much for the purple turtle to convince him that this was a good idea, something that should’ve been a sign that this wasn’t exactly the most sound thing he could agree to. Still, he gave in, primed and ready with song lyrics and melodies. Wasn’t like he’d fall victim to his own hypnosis without a proper escape plan. Wearing earplugs worked well when handling the Foot Clan, but for willingly listening to an illusion trap? Well, a brief yet sharp pinch or slap could fix that. And given how Donnie described the way things worked, it almost completely dissuaded his fears. Almost. 

“Oh, Ron, doubting me this far into the project? You wound me!” Donnie mimed a fainting motion, hand bent over his head with his elbow pointed to the heavens, leaning back before righting himself just as quickly. “But, once again, we’ll be fine. That’s a Genius Built guarantee (patent pending). Now, let us commence!”

His finger hovered over the power button as he looked to his pseudo-uncle for approval. Ron smiled at him, nodding with just a touch more confidence. 

“For science! And fashion!”

Present

“You’ve got the goods that can make me smile!”

The curtains blew open as Donnie stepped through, a full ombré suit adorning his person, his blazer starting white at the top before fading into a layer of yellow then one of orange then red. Massive sequins and rhinestones in jewel tones bedazzled the edges, shining in the bright light of the dressing room. 

He did a turn around as Ron clapped and cheered, taking his seat as his brother’s mentor got up and skipped with joy into the dressing room, the magician muttering excitedly about clothing for hippo men only existing in dream dimensions. 

Dee nearly pulled his phone out while he waited before remembering himself and where he was. So he leaned back, eyes up to the ceiling as the song that kept them there continued to play on loop, until the ceiling was suddenly gone. As were the walls when he looked around, the couch he sat upon and the dressing room Ron occupied suddenly in a much larger building. 

“Where in the name of Marie Curie are we?” 

Donnie’s question was interrupted as Ron popped out of the dressing room, posing dramatically as the curtains swooshed back to reveal him in his brand new outfit. 

A sky blue smoking jacket with gold swirls over a lilac button-down shirt and dark purple bowtie, paired with an amethyst and rhodochrosite paisley print cape clipped to his shoulders with tiny hippo-shaped epaulettes with pearl string tassels swinging for tails. Grey silk slacks held up with an hand-embroidered black leather belt adorned his lower half, a brass pocket watch dangling from the free space between belt loops. His shiny brown leather boots clicked with each step and heel turn against the tile floor, small sterling silver rabbits placed lovingly beside the playing card-shaped buckles that kept them closed. 

The purple turtle ahead of him was too busy looking around to pay him much mind. 

“What are yo-” Ron glanced up and to the side, taking a moment to register the scenery change. “Oh, Wellington Sunday… this wasn’t in the spell…”

“Uh, no duh this wasn’t in the ‘spell’!” Donnie shot a cursory glance Ron’s way, eyes focusing on movement behind the hippo magician as the dressing room itself disappeared. 

Figures in the distance steadily approached, accompanied by the echo of hard acrylic on marble. Eerily familiar features were hidden under lavish accessories. They got ever closer, closing in. 

“That’s it! I’m activating the failsafe!” Dee slammed a button on his bracer, waiting for the pinch that would get them out of this if things went south. But no pinch came. 

“I’d hazard a guess and say it hasn’t worked.” The fear edging Ron’s voice only lended to the sincerity of his question, silently cursing the fact that his razor rings had become flower crowns in this strange state of not quite sleep. 

“No, not even close.”

They traded glances as a new thought came to mind. 

“Donnie, we can make another boombox, yeah?” Ron was hesitant as he spoke, starting to understand the emotional investment Donnie put into each piece of his tech. 

The purple turtle swallowed uneasily, watching as more figures quickly appeared. There was only one option. He sighed.

“Affirmative. Do what you must.” 

A sudden rush of footsteps neared in further and further to them, forcing the two back to back as Ron considered how to go about things from there. It wouldn’t take much to rush the crowd-

“Hi! Welcome to our fashion show! You’re just in time!” 

The magician blinked at the crowd of, oh, turtles, in front of him. He nudged Donnie, hoping the terrapin teen had just heard what he had. 

“Uhh, hello? How did we get here?” Ron bent down to their level, nearly forgetting he was well over seven feet tall in his hippo form. 

The tiny representative in front of him smiled at him, a name badge with the name ‘Leo’ scrawled on it tacked to their shirt. 

“Don’t worry about it. Now, c’mon, it’s your turn on the catwalk!” This Leo motioned for the two of them to follow as the rest of crowd began to walk off, swishing and swaying as they went about their business.  

“Donnie what do you think of-”

But Donnie had skipped ahead, taking notes and samples of his surroundings with scientific curiosity, greeting other Donnies on his way to the catwalk. 

Yeah, they were gonna be there for a while. Wherever ‘there’ happened to be. 

[liaromancewriter]

Seduction At The Opera

Premise: Cassie and Ethan attend the opera, but their focus isn’t on the performance.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Mature – NSFW. Fluff. Words: 1,745

A/N: Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty and Nice. 😈 prompt: “You distract me.” “Do you want me to stop?”

Also submitting to @choicesmonthlychallenge Kinktober prompt “Teasing”. Inspired by this ask from @peonierose​

Cassie Valentine sipped champagne, savoring the bubbles that exploded on her tongue. Her mind was humming with memories of the first time she’d visited Ethan’s private box at the opera.

The intimate space had a breathtaking view of the stage, but that wasn’t what she remembered. It was how he’d groaned, giving in to temptation and deepening the forbidden kiss; their emotions were so intense it was like being inside an electric storm.

She’d clung to him, taking everything he had to offer and giving it back tenfold. In that moment, she’d been ready to give it all up for him.

Back then, their love had seemed impossible, just like that of Alessandra and Damarion. But unlike the two lovers united only in the underworld, she and Ethan had found a way to make it work in the world of the living. And just a few short weeks ago, he’d promised her forever.

She regarded the elegant engagement ring gracing her left hand. The snowdrift, round-cut diamond sparkled as it caught the light from the overhead chandelier. A wistful smile hovered on her lips as she recalled how Ethan had slipped the ring on her finger last week and raised their entwined fingers to his lips.

Cassie had recognized the jeweler’s box and the style immediately. And she’d felt tears gather at the thought of where Ethan had found the ring and who had helped him. It was perfect for her in every way that mattered.

Lost in memories, her heart suddenly skipped a beat when she heard the swoosh of the heavy curtains falling behind her. And then he was there. Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Her lover, her soulmate, her fiancé, and soon her husband.

Suave and handsome in a black tux, bowtie expertly knotted, his brown hair effortlessly tousled, he took her breath away. She bit her lip, watching him walk towards her with the grace of a panther and the predatory gaze of a wolf.

When he’d gotten dressed earlier, her mouth had salivated at how his snowy white shirt molded to the hard muscles of his chest. He’d shrugged on the jacket, the custom fit hugging his broad shoulders.

He’d caught her eye-fucking him in the mirror and threw her a cocky grin, quirking one brow as he turned to face her. His eyes became heated, scanning her from head to toe, pausing at his favorite parts before continuing his perusal.

The one-shoulder black dress clung to her curves, leaving her collarbone and left arm bare. A cuff bracelet wrapped around her wrist, and matching chandelier earrings hung from her earlobes. That and her engagement ring were the only pieces of jewelry she wore.

If they hadn’t already committed to attending tonight’s benefit performance, she would have dragged him to the walk-in closet floor and fucked him to oblivion.

As it was, Ethan knew precisely how to turn her on. He’d been slowly seducing her all evening. First in the elevator heading down when he’d splayed his hand across her back, shifting lower to cup her ass, his fingers teasing her through the thin fabric of her dress.

Then in the back of the car he’d hired for the night. He’d crowded into her space, draping one arm over her bare shoulder. His fingers slowly traced down her left arm, leaving nerve endings in their wake.

With one eye on the driver, his other hand glided along the smooth fabric, teasing the top of one silken thigh peeking through the slit in her dress. He leaned in to kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear, lightly biting the edge of the lobe before soothing it with his tongue.

By the time the car dropped them off outside the opera house, Cassie’s panties were wet, and her skin flushed. All she wanted was to drag Ethan to their box and shove his fingers inside her, easing the ache spreading across her lower belly.

But the man was perverse.

He’d handed her a champagne flute from a passing server, escorted her to their box and then left her there. He said he needed to chat urgently with Merle Brodeur, the germaphobe businessman and one of Edenbrook’s donors.

Cassie had been ready to scream in frustration until she figured out his game. Two could play this one, she thought, giving him a side-eyed stare when he sat beside her.

“Sorry about that,” Ethan said, not sounding sorry at all but smug. “I’d promised Merle an update on the community clinic.”

Cassie continued to sip her champagne. “I imagine Merle is happy his donation keeps Boston’s population germ-free.”

“Not sure how realistic that is,” Ethan said, making a face like he wasn’t convinced of the possibility of a germ-free world. “But at least he’s willing to keep the checks coming to fund the clinic.”

The house lights dimmed, and the din around the hall abruptly cut off. Ethan placed her empty flute under the chair and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

The orchestra roared to life as the curtains slowly opened to reveal a gilded, imperial set. Soaring music filled the air, and a man began to sing, his voice full of passion and despair.

A short while later, Cassie stole a look at Ethan’s face, and her heart melted at how relaxed he appeared. She knew Puccini’s Turandot was his favorite opera and was glad they could attend this one-night-only performance.

Halfway through the first act, Cassie crossed one leg over the other, deliberately taking her time. The silky fabric of her black dress fell to the side, revealing toned legs. She pretended to adjust the folds of her dress, the movement exposing one leg almost to the hipbone.

“You distract me,” Ethan murmured, his eyes drifting to where the slit stretched against the top of her thigh.

“Do you want me to stop?” she teased, her grin oh so very wicked as she trailed one finger along her skin, starting at the knee and stopping when she reached the edge of the slit.

His breath hitched, and red pricks splashed across his cheekbones. Ensuring that she had his attention, Cassie slipped her hand beneath the opening of her dress.

Placing two fingers under her chin, Ethan lifted her face toward him. His blue eyes peered into hers, watching the green irises darkening with desire. His warm hand covered hers, pushing the front of her dress away, exposing her drenched panties to his scrutiny.

He turned his palm to interlace their fingers, guiding them to the juncture between her thighs and teasing her with long, slow strokes. Cassie could feel the friction of the lace rubbing against her pulsating core and the wetness coating her fingers.

Before she could catch her breath, Ethan lifted her hand and took her fingers inside his mouth. His tongue swirled around tips, licking and tasting her, his eyes turning almost black with dark desire.

“Hush,” he commanded, eyes narrowing as a moan escaped her lips. “The boxes on either side of us are occupied. I need you quiet while you take what I give you.”

Cassie wanted to argue. But he suddenly pressed his thumb against the sensitive, throbbing nub, and she swallowed back the words.

“Don’t make a sound, or I will stop,” he growled.

She nodded, feeling the blush spread as she remembered where they were. Ethan’s lips closed over hers, capturing the mewling sound that threatened to escape when he increased the pressure.

With a powerful tug, he tore her panties in half, smirking in satisfaction at her shocked gasp. She raised her hips, and he pulled the tattered lace away, tucking it inside his jacket pocket.

Cassie placed one hand on the side of his face. She leaned in and gently brushed her lips across his, coaxing a tender response from him. His lips softened against her, and he framed her face between his hands.

As turned on as she was, it wasn’t just lust. It had never been just lust. Not even that time when he’d kissed her back in this box all those years ago. It was love.

Cassie could hear the opera’s crescendo in the distance and knew intermission wasn’t far behind. Ethan must have sensed it too. He broke off their kiss, watching her intently, his chest rising and falling. The tension was palpable as they stared at each other, lust and love mingling into aching desperation.

Ethan dropped to his knees, the top of his head hidden by the curved balcony. He buried his face between her thighs, his lips nibbling and sucking, driving her up. He was relentless in his assault, the lapping of his tongue timed to the melody drifting from the stage.

Cassie bit down hard on the soft leather of her black clutch purse as her orgasm ripped through her. And still, he kept going, his hand joining his frenzied tongue.

His thumb strummed her clit, and another shiver went through her. He eased one finger inside her and then another, thrusting deep. Her inner muscles clenched around him while one hand locked behind his head, holding him captive against her core. She climaxed again as the first act came to a close.

As her body slowly fell back to earth, he took his seat and folded her in his arms. Her face nestled against his chest, breathing in his scent. He kissed the top of her head, and his hand softly brushed down her hair.

The house lights brightened, and the noise level rose as people made their way to the lobby outside.

Suddenly, Cassie started giggling, a hiccup escaping as giggles turned into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Ethan asked, one eyebrow quirked in confusion.

“You,” said Cassie, trying to swallow her laughter but failing miserably. “I can’t believe you just went down on me, making me come not once but twice in the middle of a sold-out performance of Turandot. You’re lucky I have excellent self-control, babe, because I don’t want to imagine the headlines tomorrow.”

“Christ!” Ethan groaned, briefly bowing his head in dismay before meeting her laughing gaze. “You make me forget myself, Rookie.”

Cassie swiftly kissed his lips. “The feeling’s mutual, Dr. Ramsey.” She straightened in her chair. “What do you say we get out of here and continue the second act at home?”

His response was simple. Ethan tightly clasped Cassie’s hand in his and made a run for the exit.

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

All Fics & Edits: @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @mysticalgalaxysstuff @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter @vi-writes-stuff @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @zahrachoices @lucy-268 @a-crepusculo @jamespotterthefirst @headoverheelsforramsey @takemyopenheart @queencarb @crazy-loca-blog @peonierose @cariantha @annfg8 @openheartforeverinmyheart @bluebelle08 @rookiemartin @doriopenheart​ @genevievemd​ @bex-la-get​

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @lady-calypso @hopelessromantic1352

@openheartfanfics​

[probablyahopelessromantic]

Cute Moments Dating Alice Cullen

Now, we all love our favorite psychic, but how about some cute moments with her? So, here we go!

Alice of course could instantly know how you feel about a present or gift, but she never looks. Of course, she wants. How could she not? She had held back the first time she gave you a present though and seeing you smile could have taken her breath away if she had any need for it. She swore she would never sneak a peek and miss out on seeing you smile in person first.

Movie night + costumes are a win in her books. Any time you get together for movies there's always an exciting time throwing together different costumes to watch the film to. Whether it be wands flying through the air as you both laugh or sword fighting on the sofa with swords (that totally don't have actual jewels embedded because that'd be too much right?) movie nights are never dull with her even if she already knows the ending.

Speaking of movie nights, knowing the ending can be pretty boring, but Alice's eyes are never completely on the screen. She loves seeing your reactions to the films and if she knows something major is coming up her eyes always shoot over to you as she tries to hold back her grin.

Dances, Alice loves them. No matter how time passes she can't help but love attending balls or dance experiences that are hosted and of course, dragging you along with her! Now, her moves might be a little more graceful than your own, but dancing with her pulls you into a whole new world and time. Fabric swooshing around as the skirt of her dresses twirls and her head tossed back as a bell-like laugh fills the air will always be a key memory for you.

Alice may love fashion, but when it comes to your own hobbies she's just as enamored. Whether it be some form of crafting, reading, working, or anything else she's usually somewhere near if not perched over your shoulder asking questions.

Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly, painting or art in general was a hobby of Alice's and it seems that you've become her muse. On your first anniversary together she had painted the two of you, curled together in bed with your arms wrapped around one another. (You totally didn't tear up, nope.)

Family game night was introduced and tensions were high (a few Sorry! pieces may have found themselves in the wall) and Alice seemed to get a kick out of watching you try and be unpredictable during other games, but even without her powers she seemed to know just how you would play. What she didn't expect was the same to go for her. The two of you danced around each other as you played both knowing the other too well not know what the other would do.

[vannahfanfics]

Bugging Out

Word Count: 3820

Fluff, Childhood Friends, Friendship

Summary: Hajime loves hunting bugs after school. When he finds a little boy who's terrified of bugs, he makes it his mission to show him that bugs aren't all that scary.

And here’s my story for the @iwaoibb​! Be sure to also check out the adorable artwork my partner hann drew, which inspired this cute little tale :)

The jewel beetle perched on the handle of the teeter-totter, its metallic body gleaming in the bright summer sun. Its feelers roved slowly over the hot plastic, and occasionally, it would flutter its wings to reveal the iridescent patterns hidden by the hard shell of its carapace. It seemed content to bask in the heat of the sunshine; it had no idea of the threat looming overhead, not even as the sun became blocked and a dark shadow fell over its emerald shell. 

Hajime whipped the butterfly net down with a quick swoosh! and enveloped the handle in its woven fibers. The jewel beetle jumped at the contact, buzzing wildly as it flapped futilely at the thick net. All it succeeded in doing was tangling itself up; within seconds, it was just twitching weakly within the twisted fabric. Hajime carefully lifted the net just enough for him to worm his hand into it. He snaked his little fingers through the entangled fabric, then—with incredible gentleness—removed the beetle. He made sure not to press too hard as he held it by the body, keeping its wings sealed so it wouldn’t fly away before he really got a chance to look at it. 

“Hehehe. I finally got one!” Hajime snickered triumphantly to himself. He turned the beetle this way and that to watch the light play over its beautiful exoskeleton; it really was a magnificent creature, and he could see why a lot of the adult insect collectors valued it so highly. However, Hajime didn’t really like the idea of killing insects and mounting them into a frame just to look at. So, when he’d gotten his fill of the bug, he spread his fingers back up to just let it sit in his open palm. 

The beetle had apparently grown equally inquisitive about Hajime in the thirty seconds it had been in his grasp. Rather than take off immediately, it just perched in his palm and brushed its feelers all over his hand. Hajime giggled at the weird feeling of the appendages skimming over his skin. Once it had satisfied its curiosity, it leaped off Hajime’s palm, its brilliant wings flashing all colors of the rainbow as it flew. The young boy watched it go with a dreamy smile. 

Once its slender body became indistinguishable from the deep green of the nearby woods, Hajime straightened up and propped his net on his shoulder. 

“Okay! More bugs!” 

It was the first day of summer vacation, and Hajime’s eyes had been open for probably less than ten minutes before he was trying to tromp out of the house with his trusty bug net. Attending kindergarten left precious little time to hunt bugs, and he had an entire trimester’s worth of bug-hunting to catch up on. In his quest, he’d meandered down the length of his small neighborhood to the local park, where he often scored his greatest finds thanks to the deep stretch of woods directly adjacent to the playground.

“I wonder if there’s cicada shells!” Hajime wondered aloud as he strode across the playground toward the line of trees, swinging his net alongside him. He wasn’t supposed to go into the woods since they were overgrown and he wasn’t old enough yet to deal with the many dangers of an untamed forest. But he could trawl the forest’s edge for bugs as long as he kept a close eye out for snakes and stuff! … At least, that’s the excuse he would give his mother if she ever caught him. 

Just as Hajime passed the slide and prepared to step over the barrier of the sandbox, he heard something that gave him pause. He strained to hear over the delighted screams of the other children and the occasional rumble of car traffic on the road. Just as he began to wonder if he had just imagined it, he heard it again—the unmistakable sound of someone crying. 

Hajime followed the low, mournful crooning and stuttering sniffles back to the collection of slides and climbable platforms. He tramped around the complex for a minute, trying to find wherever this other kid was hiding. He finally found him crouched down beneath one of the twisty slides, tightly curled fists pressed up against the corners of his eyes as he bawled his eyes out. Hajime propped his net back on his shoulder and squatted down to squint at him. 

“Hey. Why ya cryin’?” 

The boy’s sobs cut off with a sharp gasp, and he snapped his head up to gape at Hajime with owlish eyes. However, such an intense crying fit couldn’t be halted by shock alone; the boy began to release hiccupy little cries again, and a fresh waves of tears poured from his dusky brown eyes. While the boy struggled to choke out words around his sobs, Hajime gave him a once-over. He didn’t seem to be injured in any way, nor were there any signs of a potential scuffle with one of the playground bullies. Hajime’s eyes drifted back to the boy’s ruddy, tear-streaked face right when he finally managed to speak. 

“Wh-who’re you?” he mumbled while using the heel of his palm to scrub his watery eye. 

“‘M Hajime,” he huffed. It was a little annoying that he didn’t answer his question, but he supposed that not everybody would just tell a stranger why they were crying. “And you?” 

“Tooru,” he answered petulantly. Another little sob bubbled up from his throat, coming out as a shuddering breath when he tried to suppress it. Hajime didn’t think that he was frowning at Tooru, but he must have been because Tooru flushed red with shame and hid his face in his hands. Hajime’s mother had always told him that he had a grumpy face. 

Hajime wasn’t really good at comforting people, and so he normally didn’t try. However, he felt strangely compelled to try and reassure Tooru. He cleared his throat, wrestled his facial muscles into the most passive expression he could manage, and then reached out to give Tooru a couple of pats on his upper arm with a mutter of, “There, there…” 

Tooru parted his fingers to peer at Hajime through the gap. Hajime must have managed to fix his face because Tooru lowered his hands to pout at him. He looked him up and down, then stuck the tip of his thumb into his mouth to chew on it a little. 

“You won’t laugh at me, will you?” he asked quietly. 

Ew. He’s kind of a baby, Hajime thought. Part of him thought that he should have just left Tooru to cry under the slides, but his mother always told him to treat others how he wanted to be treated. He certainly wouldn’t feel very good if he was crying under a playset all by himself and nobody even bothered to come see why. He certainly wouldn’t like it if someone laughed at him after bawling his eyes out, either. 

“I won’t laugh. Promise,” he swore with a firm nod. 

Tooru’s eyes flicked up and down his crouched form again. He bit down on his thumb, then popped it out of his mouth so he could grip his knee as he leaned forward. 

“A stag beetle flew in my hair and got all tangled up, and it scared me…” 

“You saw a stag beetle? Where?!” Hajime cried and jumped to his feet to look around wildly. He forgot he was standing underneath the slide, and he yelped as his skull collided with the thick plastic. He immediately sank back down into a crouch, cradling his head with a small whine. He hadn’t hit it hard enough to cry—he wasn’t a crybaby—but his eyes sure did sting a little bit. “Ow, ow, ow, ow…” he groaned as he rubbed at his scalp to try and get the pain to go away. 

“Eh? Do you like bugs, Hajime?” Tooru asked while screwing his face up in disgust. 

“Duh,” Hajime snapped back, cracking an eye open to glare at him. “Whatcha think I got the bug net for?” 

“I dunno…” 

Hajime sniffed, then carefully stood back up. He made sure to step away from the slide so he could stand at his full height and not whack his head again. His mother told him he had a thick skull, but he didn’t want to go and test it. He swung his bug net around as he looked around for any sign of the stag beetle, but he didn’t see one. He wasn’t too surprised. Who knew how long crybaby Tooru had been bawling under the slide?

He grunted, then jabbed his hand out to help Tooru to his feet. 

“Come on,” he demanded. 

Tooru obediently took his hand, but he looked at Hajime quizzically as the taller boy helped him climb out from underneath the slide and stand up. 

“What for? Where are we going?” 

“We’re gonna find bugs! Duh!” Hajime answered matter-of-factly. Seriously, wasn’t the bug net obvious? He frowned deeply when Tooru hissed in disgust and snatched his hand back. “What?” 

“I don’t like bugs!” Tooru whined in a high-pitched voice that had Hajime clamping his hands down over his ears. Tooru pouted at that, and Hajime resisted the urge to full-on scowl. He really didn’t want Tooru to start bawling again; screw his mother’s teachings, he’d leave him there and go hunting by himself. 

“Come onnnnnnn!” Hajime wheedled back. He opened his mouth to call Tooru a baby, but he thought better of it. He wasn’t quite at the point to make his mother disappointed yet. He blew air out of his nose, and then said, “Look, there’s loads of different kinds of bugs. I’m sure we can find some you like. I won’t make ya hold any of the ones you find icky, okay?” When Tooru started protesting again, Hajime crossed his arms and barked, “Ya gotta face your fears! My momma says so!” 

Tooru looked at him doubtfully, then slowly dropped his gaze to the bug net in Hajime’s hand. 

“... My mommy says so too,” he sighed deeply. When Hajime took his hand again, he didn’t resist. He just followed obediently after him as Hajime carted him off the playground and toward the edge of the woods. 

“Let’s see, let’s see,” Hajime hummed to himself, releasing Tooru’s hand so he could rest his on his knee while he squatted at the edge of the woods. He peered into the tangle of long wildgrasses crowding the roots of the shrubline. Tooru hovered behind him, wringing his hands together in nervous silence. When Hajime’s hand suddenly shot out to plunge into the thicket, however, Tooru released a shriek of alarm and slapped his hands over his eyes. 

“Whatcha doin’ all that for?” Hajime scoffed. “Ya don’t even know what I’ve got yet!” 

“I’m sorry!” Tooru squealed, but didn’t remove his hands from over his eyes. “I expected something to jump at me!” 

“Well,” Hajime snickered, pulling his hand out of the underbrush to reveal a large brown grasshopper in his grasp, “you were pretty close, actually.” 

Apprehensive but curious, Tooru slowly lowered his hands, then looked down when Hajime turned and presented the grasshopper. He blinked owlishly down at it, and the grasshopper stared glassily back up at him with its beady black eyes. Hajime cocked an eyebrow as he watched the color slowly drain from Tooru’s face, and then a sickly green hue began to rise in the ghostly white of his cheeks. 

“Ewwwwww!” Tooru shrieked, stumbling back and whirling his arms in alarm. “Get that thing away from me!” 

“What?” Hajime shrugged. The grasshopper began to churn its spined legs against Hajime’s hand, but he paid no mind to the ticklish, scratchy feeling. Meanwhile, all Tooru could do was stare in horror at the creature’s long, spindly limbs twitching and poking into Hajime’s skin. All of a sudden, Tooru’s face turned nearly as green as the grass around them, and he grabbed his stomach while retching emptily. “Dude, it’s just a grasshopper! It ain’t gonna bite. Come on, hold it.”

Tooru’s eyes watered as he vehemently shook his head. Jeez, the kid was acting like Hajime was trying to make him hold some dog poop, not a harmless little bug. Still, Hajime had promised Tooru that he wouldn’t make him hold any bugs that he didn’t like, and he meant to stick to his word. So, he turned and opened his palm, allowing the grasshopper to spring back into the woods. The thick grasses shook where its carapaced body dived in, then quickly fell still. 

“What was wrong with that one?” Hajime asked, turning back to see Tooru squatting down and still holding his queasy tummy. “Grasshoppers and crickets are awesome! Didja know that they rub their legs together to make their songs?” 

“That’s cool,” Tooru said, the uneasy groan in his voice making the statement altogether unconvincing. “But I just kept thinking, ‘what if it jumped on me?’” He miserably put his hands in his hair, where the beetle had landed before. “It’s legs are so thin and sharp! It would have gotten all tangled up in my hair!” 

Hajime wrinkled up his nose a bit, but he really couldn’t argue. Tooru’s hair was so thick and fluffy; a grasshopper would get tangled up in it. And though he really did love bugs, Hajime couldn’t say that he would necessarily like the feeling of a grasshopper wiggling around in his hair, either. 

“Okay, well, it’s gone now,” Hajime huffed and offered his hand to Tooru once more. “Let’s go look for something else.” 

Tooru didn’t hesitate, to Hajime’s surprise; even though his eyes were still swimming with tears, he immediately grabbed Hajime’s hand and climbed back to his feet. He stuck close to Hajime’s side as they resumed trekking the length of the tree line, even reaching around with his other hand to grab onto the hem of Hajime’s shirt when a cicada screamed deep in the gloom of the tangled mess of trees. That being said, Hajime was pleased to feel the tremble in Tooru’s body slowly dwindling as they walked on, Hajime explaining the various things that unsettled him as they went. 

“Why do cicadas sing like that?” Tooru whined, letting go off Hajime’s shirt to clamp one hand over his ear. 

“Because they don’t live long. They have to mate before they die, so they sing really loud to try and find girl cicadas.” 

When they found a praying mantis perched on a leave and consuming the body of a dead bee, Tooru refused to come close, unnerved by its bulbous eyes. 

“Why are its eyes so big compared to its head?” 

“Praying mantises ear other bugs,” Hajime explained nonchalantly while poking at the mantis with a small twig. It angrily boxed at it, its large forelimbs striking the skinny stick with soft whap-whaps! When it realized that the twig was not a real threat nor something to it, it gave one final punch before crouching down to start tearing into the insect carcass again. “It actually has five eyes—the two big ones and three small ones. The big eyes let it see movement, which helps it find food but also keeps it from getting eaten.” 

Tooru’s unnerved grimace turned to an expression of mild awe, and he crept up to Hajime’s side to watch the mantis eat the bee for a little bit. He didn’t wanna poke it with the stick, though. 

When the mantis was no longer entertaining, they got up and walked a few paces more. Suddenly, Tooru shielded his head with his arms and yelled, “Agh! There’s the beetle that landed in my hair!” 

Hajime looked at where Tooru was shakily pointing and found a rhinoceros beetle trundling up the side of a nearby tree. 

“Dude, that’s a rhinoceros beetle, not a stag beetle.” Hajime huffed. Darn, he had been looking forward to seeing a bonafide stag beetle. “Besides, it’s probably not the same beetle.” Unfortunately, the tree was beyond the layer of thick, tall wildgrasses and knotted shrubs, so he couldn’t pluck the beetle off the tree to have a look. He’d seen plenty of rhinoceros beetles; this one certainly wasn’t worth scratching his legs with brambles or getting bitten up by ticks or mites or, God forbid, a snake. Still, it was close enough to admire—and Hajime did, smiling as the dappled sunlight played over its chocolatey-brown exoskeleton. 

Tooru simpered at Hajime’s obvious infatuation with the beetle. 

“Okay, maybe not the same beetle, but one like it,” he whined. “Its big ol’ horn got caught in my hair! Why does it have that thing, anyway?” 

“To fight, duh!” Hajime exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips to look haughtily at Tooru. “Don’tcha know? People fight ‘em like stag beetles.” Tooru nodded in understanding, prompting Hajime to sigh in relief. If Tooru hadn’t even known what stag beetles were, Hajime would’ve had to write him off as hopeless. 

“In the wild, boy rhinoceros beetles fight each other over girl rhinoceros beetles. Whoever wins gets the right to mate,” he explained. “Same with stag beetles.” 

“Ohhhhh, kinda like lions do?” Tooru smiled slightly, nodding in understanding. “My mommy watches nature shows sometimes. I didn’t know bugs did all that, too.” 

“See? Bugs are cool!” Hajime grinned. Finally, he was getting somewhere with this kid! Maybe there was hope for him after all. Hajime had been wanting to find a bug-hunting partner; if they could get past his aversion to insects, maybe Tooru could be it. 

A flicker of color flashed in the edges of Hajime’s vision. He quickly turned his head to follow it, and once he found the source, a smile curled on his lips. Time for the ultimate test. If Tooru didn’t like this bug, then there really was nothing for it. 

“Come look at this!” 

Tooru cried out when Hajime snatched up his hand again to haul him over to a blackberry bush. Hajime pressed his index finger to his lips with a firm “shhh!”, then pointed to a cluster of blossoms on a thin, thorny branch. There, a bluebottle butterfly was delicately perched on the branch, her probiscis buried in the depths of a flower to drink the sweet nectar within. Hajime hid a grin behind his hand as Tooru’s eyes widened with wonder, the blue-and-black wings reflecting in the soft brown pools of his eyes. 

“Pretty…” he cooed. 

“Isn’t it?” Hajime said with a pleased hum. He looked at the butterfly, then back at Tooru, who was completely and utterly entranced. “Wanna hold it?” 

“Can I?” Tooru gasped, ripping his gaze from the winged insect to look at Hajime in shock. “Won’t it try to fly away?” 

“You just gotta approach it the right way,” Hajime said. He kneeled down next to the bush, and Tooru quickly followed suit. Hajime slowly inched his hand toward the branch, careful not to move to quickly and trigger the butterfly’s prey response. He pressed his fingers right up against the branch and held it there, waiting for the butterfly to crawl over his skin in its search for more nectar. One by one, its spindly little legs came to rest on the top of Hajime’s hand. Then, he slowly pulled his hand away from the branch, while his other grabbed Tooru’s to lift it up and hold it near his own. 

“Just be still,” he breathed. 

“Okay,” Tooru whispered back. The butterfly’s antennae skimmed lightly over Hajime’s skin as it felt its way around. It toddled towards Hajime’s arm, paused at his wrist, then doubled back, trundling at a diagonal. Tooru sucked in a breath at the first kiss of the butterfly’s leg against his palm. As it crawled forward, coming into the slight cup of his hand, a wide smile bloomed on his face. 

“Hehe, it tickles.” The slight shudder of his laugh made the butterfly bob side-to-side in his hand. It flapped its wings, sensing, and then began to feel around with its antennae again. Tooru cocked his head to the side, his eyes growing half-lidded as he admired the delicate creature. After half a minute or so, he murmured, “You were right. I guess not all bugs are that bad.” 

“Of course I’m right,” Hajime sniffed. “That’s like saying all dogs are mean just because your neighbor’s stupid little Chihuahua chased ya up a tree.” Hajime hated that little bug-eyed bastard mutt the old lady next door had. He was a nasty little bugger that chased Hajime around the yard any chance he got. What was he talking about? Oh, right. Bugs were great. 

“Yeah, that’s true. My neighbor has a really nice dog.” Tooru said. The butterfly had surmised that it would not find nectar in Tooru’s hand, so it took its leave, colorful wings flashing in the sunlight as it fluttered away. Tooru watched it go with a dreamy expression. 

“So?” Hajime prompted, and Tooru gave him a quizzical look. “You know now that some bugs are really cool. So do ya wanna hunt bugs with me from now on?” 

“From now on?” 

“Yeah. You must live near here, right?” At his question, Tooru nodded. “Me too. I come here every day after school to hunt bugs. So, you wanna start hunting bugs with me?” Hajime tapped his bug net against his leg as he narrowed his eyes in thought. He liked bug hunting, but if they did it every day, it would probably get old. “And we don’t have to just hunt bugs. We can do other stuff, too, like play on the playground or skip stones in the pond…” 

When Tooru grinned slyly, Hajime found a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Hajime, are you asking me to be your friend?” Tooru asked in a sing-song voice just dripping with smugness. Hajime scoffed at his sudden loftiness, but unfortunately, he couldn’t deny it. He did want Tooru to be his friend… even if he was kind of a whiny baby. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I wanna be your friend. So what’s the answer? Yes or no?” Hajime impatiently snapped back. 

“Yes, of course,” Tooru answered, like it had been obvious the whole time. He stood, and Hajime stood, too, blushing when Tooru gave him a blinding smile. “So, wanna find more bugs?” 

“You’re not gonna cry if I find something big and creepy, are ya?” Hajime teased. 

“No,” Tooru said with a shake of his head. “I don’t think so. They’re a lot less scary when I’m with you.” 

Hajime rolled his eyes at that, but when he turned his back, it was to hide the happy little grin spreading across his face. But even as he hid his glee, his still reached back to offer Tooru his hand. And Tooru took it, giving it a firm squeeze. 

And Hajime was really, really glad that he didn’t just leave Tooru to cry under the slide. 

[snkrbonbon]

[freshthoughts2020]

[jennmore21]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Nike Dunk High SE 💚.

[keeepit100]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NIKE AIR FOAMPOSITE PRO PRM LE "GREEN CAMO" 587547-300 forest/black.

[timbolyscloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NIKE Air Force 1 Low GS 'Triple White' Sneakers..