#like i'm sorry but i'm noticing... a lot of people who get extremely offended when you take an option the game has to........... yk

[pichlive]

quick reminder-- there's no wrong way to play slay the princess!

there's no bad endings, just different perspectives!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i stole my aunt's cats? (TW for animal neglect)

ok, so basically for a few years now it's been kind of an open secret in my family that my aunt's household Strongly Prefers their dog over their two cats. i didn't think much of it since i don't really see them too often (which is on purpose), but that changed when my mom and i house sat for them for a week. During the week i noticed many things that have indicated to me that this house isn't healthy for these cats:

1. the house is fucking disgusting. my aunt had 4 kids who are all out of college, so she has a Large mcmansion to clean by herself (they're conservative christians so my uncle doesn't contribute). so i get that its a struggle, but most of this house is straight up unsanitary. like i dont think those floors have seen anything near a cleaning supply in years. also, the amount of Stuff lying around made it really difficult to get around the house a lot of the time.

2. their dog has significant behavioral issues. it's a small dog (the crusty white breed but brown) but if you're not giving it attention, either you or whatever you're paying attention to is getting attacked. the problem arises when the thing you're giving attention to is one of the cats. despite the dog's size, it's bigger and stronger than both cats. and while the cats are faster, i feel like it's only a matter of time until one of them gets injured. also, i'm aware that the dog's issues are most definetly also a result of mistreatment. afaik, it's had no training other than knowing not to piss in the house, and is basically treated as a perfect creature that can do no wrong. it literally doesn't know how to go for walks because my aunt and uncle just go out into the yard until it does it's business and then take it back inside.

3. these cats have jack shit. they have a litterbox and food bowls on this crusty ass folding table (so the dog doesn't steal their food) and that's it. no toys, no cat furniture, nothing. everything that's bought is bought for the dog. this basically means that the cats get no enrichment, which is just generally bad. one of them is allowed outside, but that's not a better alternative obviously.

also, i'd ask my aunt if i could just take the cats given that she doesn't even like them, but my realtives are the kind of people who get extremely offended by any implication of failure, so that would just start drama and would encourage them to go after the cats after i take them anyway.

my cousins could take them, but they've all been out of college for a while now and are already well off, so if any of them were going to take them, they would have by now. imo, they've lost their chance.

if i do end up doing this, it's not going to be for a while because i have to settle personal matters. not to mention how i'm going to sort through things like taking stolen cats to the vet.

didnt expect this to get this long lmao. sorry 💀

What are these acronyms?

[tatatale]

I'll be honest, I usually don't like sending asks because I'm so horrible with text communications (Seriously, there was one time I offended a person here on Tumblr when I just sent a comment saying "Are you going to continue this", I got a monologue about how demotivating this was when I just wanted to know if there was going to be more, I was in the middle of class when this happened and I ended up feeling like shit!), but I love your Au, and I really do, it was one of the first aus i read when i downloaded tumblr but i can only think of one thing when i see your au.

What if the avatars Erin and Ethan (I just now noticed that they are double "e") were able to act on their own, have their own persanities and thoughts?

Just imagine, both having very different personalities than their players.

Lytta is shy and calm, prefers to keep their distance from fights and confusion, but is friendly and hardly gets stressed, Thanatos is playful, doesn't quiet down for anything, looks like he learned to run before walk, extremely sociable and hardly keeps his mouth closed.

And speaking of Ethan, where was he during the entire battle?

Nah, don't be scared to send asks! I'm also bad at texting, but it's something you only learn if you do it! I'm pretty sure the person who told you that it was demotivating said it because you weren't the first person to ask something like that to them.

Usually, when you spend all your free time doing something you love and sharing it for free, the last thing you want is for people to treat you as if it were your obligation and you owe them something. When you take a little break, there are times when you get messages from people demanding that you MUST keep giving them that free content asap, some even insulting or threatening you.

I'm sorry you felt so bad that time, and I'm sorry that person thought you were one of those demanding people, but I'm pretty sure they didn't mean to, and it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. You can always send them another ask explaining that it wasn't your intention!

(I wrote a lot, lmao)

Anyway! It would be very crazy if the avatars were alive and were so different from the players, changing their personality drastically the moment Erin and Ethan go offline LMAO! Someone once asked if the avatars were alive too, and no, they're just the image of the two of them in the Multiverse. But it's a funny idea!

Ethan was on the sidelines but ready in case his sibling needed his help!

Also thank you aaaa!! I'm glad you like my AU that much T◡T)♥

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

Hi! I was hoping for a letter matchup for the flavor of love event?

I go by Howl and my pronouns are they/them. I’m in the English server and I’ve finished all available chapters. I have no preference as to romantic or platonic relationships because I’m Demisexual/romantic so as long as it’s quality™️ I’d be happy. I also have no preference to situation of the letter so anything goes. I was also sorted into Heartslabyul by the magic online sorter. I have never played an otome game before but I’ve played monster prom which is pretty close. My favorite character from that was Zoe or Damian 😔

In terms of personality it really depends because I’m fairly…intense. And contradictory. I can notice small stuff about people, but I usually miss major signs (I have accidentally woo’d many people in my obliviousness), I alternate between being clever and good at strategizing and walking headfirst into a brick wall. I tend to break up or dissipate fights but the minute I’m in one myself I won’t back down until I’ve won. I have an extremely strong sense of justice but I’m also really vengeful and can be shady when I need to be. I have often intimidated others in presence alone (despite being 5’7”?) and also had a lot of people think I’m innocent and sweet. I love making people laugh and often give people gifts just cause I was thinking about them, and I love spending quality time with people and acting like an idiot for their amusement alone. I also used to give a lot of advice therapy to people and was often called by my friends in emergencies. Not sure if that was a good idea on their part but nonetheless I can keep my calm under that kind pressure. Also I hate pranks because I was ~bullied~ *jazz hands*

I have also been told that I don’t smile a lot. I do not know if this is true because I often think I’m smiling and people say I look pissed off so. There’s that

I definitely walk the line between villain and princess because on one hand I was once considered my old choir’s ‘mom’ (someone made me a little medal that said that once, it was so sweet) but on the other hand I made my pre-law teacher cry so like.

In terms of who I’d hang out with at NRC I think I’d probably float a bit but I’d spend some time with Floyd. I feel like he’d get a kick out of trying to watch me dance (I have zero coordination) and possibly Lilia because I’m a music lover and will talk about music theory for hours given the chance. Possibly also Ortho or Idia because I enjoy doing art and animation in my spare time and spending quiet time in dark spaces

I think I’m probably on team white chocolate because I’m very devoted to the people I care about and often in weird situations but I could also be team strawberry due to having a bit of bite

I’m definitely pro team white but team mint do be lookin like fun sometimes. And team strawberry is always reliable...

I hope this is okay I think I answered all the questions. It’s my first time doing one of these so I hope I didn’t do something wrong or do anything to offend 😅💕

Here is the link to the letter: 2 Lines & A Circle : Flavor of love matchup! Letter edition! (tumblr.com)

Also I'm very sorry about taking forever on this!

[chrysolipsist]

The Phases of This Particular Weedening

paranoid phase (usually brief for me and more "fun" than "oh shit this is real"... I'm fortunate, I think). a buzz from my phone. I got an email. For some reason I feel a sense of dread in that moment, although I have no reason why. It is a notification about a price change on a flight that I've been tracking. But when I open up the email I see a notification about tracking and for a brief moment I feel a tremendous wave of fear as I think, why is google telling me someone is tracking me?

creative thinking phase (the one that you think is extremely entertaining in the moment and think other people would appreciate but in reality that's probably not the case.). So, like, would a "furry" person prefer to go to a veterinary hospital than to the regular hospital?

the glustony phase (lust and gluttony) (the one where your senses are heightened and you know it and you are ready to write poetry about eating or fucking). We must get another piece of apple pie from the kitchen. It will be glorious, you know it will be glorious. As you mush that slice of apple and bit of crumb topping into the corners of your mouth and let the sugary goodness wash over your tongue. Imagine--and now do it. Feel the texture, notice the tartness of the granny smith apple that these were made with. The one your wife made them with because she knows you like the tartness that they impart, in fact they're your favorite kind of apple. That's because she's the sweetest and most beautiful woman on earth and you need to count your blessings instead of magnifying every bad thing that happens to you. Anyway, getting back to the pie, it really is so fucking good. Let's eat the rest of what's on our plate. Oh, fuck yes.

the reminiscent phase (the one where you simply remember, and sometimes reflect.). My grandmother was Japanese. She was born in the 1930s, before World War II, and emigrated to the US in the sixties. She often looked after me when I was young. Although I knew she could speak pretty good and proper English she tended to code-switch to this sort of relaxed "I-don't-care" mode which she used for pretty much the whole time I knew her. She got a kick out of playing dumb to people who might be irritated with her for some reason: saying "oh, so sorry" while laying the accent on extra thick. I remember she had certain funny ways of saying things. She used a lot of onomatopoeia. I remember her describing a microwave or toaster oven as "the ping" because of the sound it made. I also remember her describing a train to me when I as very young by saying 「チュウ チュウポポ」 (I won't tell you how to say it: you have to go to google translate, paste it into the Japanese side and have it speak it to hear how it sounds). and I remember her saying 「ひやひや」 referring to the feeling of being overwhelmed by a shock or surprise that proved not to be anything to actually worry about after all-- a false alarm. And I remember her telling me stories, none of the content I remember much of anymore, but they were sometimes funny, and I imagine many of them were things she heard in Japan when she was young. One of them was about a man who was asked by a king what the best feeling in the world was. The man answers that the best feeling in the world is taking a shit. The king's retainers are offended that the man say such a thing in the king's presence and are ready to punish him, but the king stops them, saying, "No--this man has spoken the truth!" And I remember putting the love seat next to the sofa to make a large bed when I stayed the night at my grandparents' house. On nights when my dad was out playing guitar in a bar somewhere, and my mom was tagging along or doing her own thing. And I remember the times with my folks picking me up, maybe sticking around for dinner. Everyone smoking, my dad drinking a Miller High Life and they ordered pizza. I'm not eating toppings at this point, I don't like it yet. Only crust. I was maybe 5 or 6 years old. I remember the console television - ZENITH - with that bricklike remote with shiny metal buttons. I have never seen any other remote like it. Having metal buttons on a TV remote these days seems unthinkable. I remember watching Barney Miller on that TV, and distinctly remember the credits with the city in the background and the fusion-jazz theme. A sound I liked even then and still today, anything with a Rhodes piano and a funky bass line is extraordinarily appealing to my ears.

the suddenly very talkative phase (the one where you could talk to anyone about anything and it would be the most interesting conversation you've ever heard. Or you can talk about yourself in excruciating detail--way more than anyone would need to know). So tell me about what you do for a living. Oh, you're a grocery clerk in the produce department? I used to do that job. I did that job for about five years, close to six years. Through most of college including the first year of grad school. Even though I was getting an assistantship I worked in the grocery store on the weekends because I liked having the extra money. Although that assistantship check paid more than I'd ever made in my entire life to that point working at the grocery store--and everybody knows grad students get paid like shit, so you can only imagine what it's like being a grocery store clerk trying to get ahead. Especially when they take your fucking hours away at times when it's supposedly "light" even though your store is always busy as fuck because there's no other competing store anywhere in the area to take away customers so that's bullshit. Like it was going to ruin the company by you getting a whopping extra $25 for those four fucking hours while the fucking cash registers in the front are sending two dozen $100 customers out the door every twelve minutes (or something like that). Oh yes, I have a friend who still does that job in the same fucking store and it sounds as miserable as it ever was. The only good thing about that job was that I made friends there and liked working with everyone in the store. All of the store workers were great. But the upper management... actually, there wasn't anything wrong with the upper management at the store level. It was all the regional people coming in and telling them what to do, micromanaging all the details of the operation of the store as if the people that actually work in a fucking store all day don't know what they're doing as opposed to you fuckers going from store to store and doing nothing but poking your goddamn noses into every little thing acting like you're doing some kind of 1910s scientific management with a fucking stopwatch. But you know fuck-all about anything you're talking about because you've never done it yourself in the middle of a pre-holiday rush. Fuck you. Fuck. You. FUCK. YOU.

the meta phase (self-explanatory). Oh christ I have to come up with some other phases of being high. But they have to be entertaining, and not encourage me to go into embarrassing personal details or depressing things. Like some of your health issues. Like why do you get kidney stones and why do you get these other symptoms that no one wants to read about and look at you doing that thing you said you didn't want to do, you're doing it right now, stop it! Think about something else-- we don't want to ruin our high by dwelling on problems, we can think about those some other time. Oh shit now we're not writing a good example of the "meta" phase anymore are we? Okay, now we are again. Is this sustainable? How long can I go on before I run out of words to belch out about being in this "meta" phase? Probably not that long, so I better come up with some other phases to do. Or maybe I'm just allowing myself to drift from one node to another in my high, like as the neural networks within myself are being stimulated and new connections open through branches they weren't going through before... Oh look now we're going into another phase just now, let's give it a name and keep going.

the weed scientist phase (where you come to a deeper understanding of being high through your lived experience). Yes, I have theories about what's going on right now. Like, your unconscious mind being like a sort of fluid in constant motion, with waves on the surface that occasionally wash up a few thoughts on the shore of your mind. Your conscious mind is only the thin skin on a nucleus containing multitudes. [Wow, what a great phrase!] Being high is like wind blowing against the waves, washing more stray thoughts ashore. Things you might not have thought about before, or thought about in that way, emerge from the ether of your unspeaking mind.

the wandering phase (where every topic is a precarious touchstone). I remember once hearing a British guy use the word "might'nt" and I thought, wow, I can't imagine an American using that particular contraction, although "might not" is by no means an unusual phrase to use in American English. Another peculiar sort of phrasing I rarely hear in British English is a curious use of the word "do." There's a video recording of some old British people with a phone or camera or something trying to record video, and one of them says something like "I don't know whether it lets you take pictures," and another one says "but it must do." In the classic Dr. Who episode "Spearhead from Space" you can hear The Brigadier utter the words "but he can't do." I feel like the phrasing "but it must" or "but it must do that" sound normal but "but it must do" has an unusual tempo to it. Breaking the iambic pentameter! That's what it's doing! Think about it. "But, it-must." "But, it-must, do-that." Those phrases make sense in an English meter! But, consider: "but, it-must, do."

the introspective phase. (the one where you converse with yourself). What doors hath this substance unlocked? Imagine what could happen if you could think with your whole mind. We are figuring things out naturally--barely thinking about them, we perceive the solution instantly and can readily describe it. Is this stuff making me temporarily smarter? (I do worry it may dull memory.) What if intelligence is just the set point for the amount of "mental surface area" you have, and what if this expanding it or allowing a new substrate for connections to form? Were that the case it would probably come at some cost. I wonder if this flexing of the brain is damaging in the long run. I do wonder if my increased use of late has made me more forgetful. I sometimes feel like it takes me longer to recall names. But we're talking about things like some actor or actress in some movie or maybe something that happened ten years ago. Not about fresh memories about people and things closer at hand. Anyhow I think you are writing pretty articulately, certainly with more verbal poise than you normally infuse in your quotidian technical writing. Maybe this stuff doesn't make you more intelligent but it may either rebalance or move your center from the left side of your brain to the right. But there was once a time in your life when you felt that you were definitely right-brained and not left-brained. Today you feel more left-brained, or at least in the center.

the tired of doing the "phase" thing and am ready to just free-form phase. (Sick of the gimmick). Back to reality. This will have to be the last time we do this for a while. We can't sustain this. And you definitely don't need to eat tons of junk food. Hey, lay off. I didn't eat badly today. I had a crepe for lunch and some sushi for dinner. And then a couple pieces of pie, then a few servings of pretzels before you remembered there was cold pizza in the fridge and wouldn't that just go down great right now--the bites from the center of the pizza seem better cold than when hot and floppy. At least from this place. But unfortunately this is the best pizza place we really have in this town. Or at least the most convenient one to order delivery from. Anyway yes I know I probably ought not to do this so much. So tell you what. We won't get stoned tomorrow. We'll give it a few days and do something else. Either that or we can stick to just a half dose so we can continue doing normal things without getting worked into a "oh, I'm high now so I better make the most of it" like why do you always have to optimize your experience? Why can't you just passively accept things as they are in the moment. Sometimes I do that-- I tell myself, don't optimize, just experience. But there's a part of me that always thinks, oh, it could just be this much better... and I spent more effort in curating my high than actually experiencing it. Maybe let someone else be the DJ and just let it wash over you.

The tired of writing this phase.

[ace-nlis]

How they met you & fell in love

a/n: This is the first time I decided to actually write something with the intention of posting it. I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it. I'm sorry if I've misspelled anything, English isn't my first language. I hope I did well for my first writing post >.<

WARNINGS: none apart from slight violence. Female reader. Cussing.

Otherwise; fluffy content.

(Y/n) - Your name

(L/n) - Last name

Like or repost if you enjoy <3

Akaashi:

When you first met him, you thought he was a pretty boy with a resting bitch face. He is an extremely straight forward 'say it how it is' type of person and you respected him for that because it isn’t always easy to just speak your mind upfront in this day and age. He didn’t really look all that friendly or approachable, but since you were friends with Bokuto you just had to suck it up and stick around. It was pretty awkward talking to him or even just being around him at first, until you realized that his exterior was an act and he’s a total softy when he isn’t trying to call Bo out on his bullshit. You found him to be an intriguing person, but also rather intimidating. He was peaceful, he didn’t talk all that much and kept to himself like a true introvert. You were the opposite, more of an ambivert type. You tried your best to befriend him, but little did you know that friendship would spiral into something else along the line.

After a while of being friends, Akaashi got red in the ears in your presence. He was easily flustered around you, and the both of you often tended to flirt and bicker as if it was second nature. The two of you in a room together never got boring. Everyone around you could tell the two of you were head over heels for each other. You thought the opposite though, you felt that the friendship was never going to progress into anything more and that your crush was meaningless because nothing would come of it. After being friends for several months, nearly reaching the 1 year milestone, you eventually started to distance yourself.

You always thought the way Akaashi acted around you was purely just because the two of you had a close bond as friends, nothing more, nothing less. Akaashi on the other hand was devastated when he noticed the drastic changes in the close bond you both shared. He noticed that whenever he walked into a room, you’d disappear. Whenever he tried to call you, you wouldn’t answer the phone and make up some excuse that you were busy. The poor guy felt like his sanity was hanging on a thread and all he wanted was to speak to you, figure out what he did wrong and at least go back to how things once were. One day, he cornered you in an empty classroom. His eyes seemed frantic and he made sure to trap you between his arms and leave no room for you to escape so he could get answers. “(Y/n), are you okay? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”

It seemed like the questions that were wracking his brain kept tumbling out, and in an overwhelmed panic she stopped him. The next thing the both of them knew was that her lips were pressed to his. At first his eyes were wide and body was stiff with shock. He didn’t know how to respond, and he firmly believed that this was a dream. In her mind, she thought she had just made the biggest mistake of her life because he wasn’t responding to it, he was just standing there and embarrassment slowly started to flood her. Before she could pull away from him, his arms slackened and his hands slid down the wall beside her, eventually placing them on her hips and pulling her body flush against his while kissing her back feverishly. When the two pulled away, they were out of breath and their eyes had a dazed look in them as they locked eyes. He leaned his head against hers and sighed in relief, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he kept his eyes locked on hers. I think that’s when you both knew that there was no way in hell you’d let go of each other at any point in time because it really felt like you were meant to be together.

Oikawa:

You knew of Oikawa Tooru but you never actually wanted to be acquainted with him. To you he sounded like a total sleazebag, a player that loved breaking female students’ hearts left and right. Unfortunately for you, you just so happened to bump into him on Valentines day after having to reject a poor freshman. When you bumped into Oikawa, he thought that you were another girl ready to confess to him due to the box of chocolates in your hands and a smirk instantly made its way onto his face as he reached over to take the box. Your immediate response was to slap his hand away. If looks could kill, he sure as hell would be more than 6 feet under because you were not up for anyone's bullshit. Oikawa gasped in shock and retracted his hand immediately with a pout. “Hey! I know you. You’re (L/n), hmm. Aren’t you a friend of Iwa? You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about trying to confess to me. I always appreciate a new follower.”

A mix between a scoff and a laugh of disbelief made its way out of you as you immediately shoved the box of chocolates into your bag. “Wow, I knew you were vain but I guess I underestimated just how much. If you think I have any interest in an asshole like you then you must be smoking something. I have no interest in being one of your petty little toys that you hold on a string. I refuse to be one of your little puppets that follow you around to show my undying admiration for someone as shitty as you. No wonder he calls you Shittykawa. You truly are a self centered douche.”

Oikawa’s face was burning red with embarrassment as she pushed past him and continued going to her class. He was astonished, shocked beyond any words imaginary as he stood there and tried to process what had just happened. Eventually he was brought back to his senses when Iwaizumi smacked him over the head and told him to stop staring like a dumbass and get to practice. “Iwa, How do you know (L/n)?” He asked suddenly after they walked in silence for several minutes, which was very unlike Oikawa. “I’m in the majority of her classes and she lives a block away from me. Why?”

“She’s weird. I thought she was gonna confess and then she slapped my hand and called me a douche.” Oikawa said, his tone was completely flat for once and Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Yeah, well what do you expect? She has better things to do than fawn over you, Shittykawa.”

*Insert offended Oikawa noises here*

Needless to say, his first encounter with you was not exactly what he would’ve liked it to be. Slowly though he tried to fish more information out on you, he wanted to understand why you weren’t like the other girls who practically fell in love with him at first sight and why you were the way that you were in general. That meant that any time Iwaizumi would meet up with you at a park to study together or whenever you guys would spend any type of time together that Tooru would tag along. Teachers thought that you were having a blooming friendship with him though and much to your dismay you ended up getting partnered with him on a school project. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach because you truly didn’t want him to come to your home, but he kept insisting and you knew that there would be no point in trying to convince him otherwise so you gave in to his stubbornness.

You felt ashamed the moment he stepped through the front door, your parents were never home and you had to take care of your younger twin siblings. The house was a mess, and that was when he understood why you had such a cold persona around others. You wanted to distance yourself from people and push them away as much as possible in order for you to not have to go through the embarrassment of looking like a train wreck to everyone else in the circumstances that you were in as opposed to your usual well put together attitude. To your surprise though, he was patient. He jumped in on helping you clean, he even helped the twins with any homework questions they had in between working on your project together and showed no judgement. In fact, he gave you a look of understanding.

After that, you were able to tolerate him more and you allowed him to visit the twins more often while even bringing along his nephew for all of them to play together. He taught them how to play volleyball while also helping you in the kitchen when you needed it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he honestly fell in love with you because of how genuine you were. You guys flirted, but it was suffocating to him like all the other girls who flirted with him on a daily basis. He only had interest in you, and you bet your ass Iwa teased the shit out of him for it. Your project got an incredible score of 100% and the two of you celebrated together by playing some volleyball even though you were complete shit at it. He didn’t care though and had fun. You found yourselves hanging a lot more often, being around each other almost 24/7 and you even met his family at some point. They absolutely loved you, and so did he.

He tried to figure out how he’d confess to you, he wanted it to be special. He wanted it to be a moment the both of you would remember because he quite honestly couldn’t see him spending any of his time with any other girl apart from you. Of course he was extremely nervous and skeptical on how to approach it, it was a 50/50 chance of you liking him back. The thoughts left his mind when he heard your voice outside a local supermarket, asking someone to leave you alone and that immediately flipped a switch in his brain. He quickly tried to look for you and found you trying to tell some tipsy guy that you didn’t want anything to do with him to which he immediately went over with his hands tucked in his pocket.

“Hey (Y/n), everything okay?” he asked as he coldly stared at the man that had been harassing you. A quiet “Oh thank god” was whispered underneath your breath as you managed to force your way closer to Tooru. He immediately wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his eyes locked on the other older gentleman that had been bothering you. The guy smirked, “Oh nothing man, I was trying to have a chat with her and she got all bitchy. That’s all.” (Y/n) could feel his body language immediately became a lot more tense, but you quickly pulled at him and tried to evade the situation. “It’s not worth it, Tooru. Let’s just go, okay? We can get some milk bread and watch movies or something.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you talk about my (Y/n)-chan. In fact, I’d advise you to leave her alone before I make you regret even breathing the same air as her. Got that?” He spoke calmly as he gently nudged you out of the alleyway next to the store. “Hey, who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Can’t just take my woman like that, dude.” This is when you truly saw how angry Oikawa could get as all he did was throw a punch and the guy was down. You could only stare in shock at what had just unfolded in front of you. “If you ever talk about her like that again I swear I’ll make you regret you ever existed.” At that he tugged you along and when the two of you were a few blocks away you grabbed hold of his hand and inspected it. “You seriously didn’t have to go that far. I don’t care what a low life has to say about me, at least I don’t live in the streets and I’ve got a roof over my head.” He remained silent for a moment before latching his hand onto your wrist and pulling you into his chest. “I’d never let anyone do or say anything to hurt you. Remember that. I’m just sorry you had to witness me get like that. I’ll make it up to you though.”

“Oh? I think a date would be a pretty nice way to make it up to me since you insisted on calling me your (Y/n)-chan” you said, giving him a cheeky smile to which he could only reply with a teasing smirk. “Hm, seems only fair after I saved you as heroically as I did.”

“Whatever you say, douche”

*insert baffled Oikawa noises here*

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"

"Right." We all agreed.

"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.

[anystalker707]

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

[kayluh1915]

More Than Anything

Words: 3,813

Pairing(s): Pedro Pascal/Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only!

While enjoying a long awaited drink, you find yourself entertained by the young bartender with horrible jokes. Pedro, however, doesn't see the humor in the situation.

DISCLAIMER

This fic is a part of my "Pedro y su Abeja🐝" series. You don't have to read the previous stories to understand this one, but they're there if anyone would like to give them a glance with your peepers. I write them as a reader insert, but they can also be read as an original character. It's up to you.

Follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok if you'd like. I'm pretty boring but I try. You can also checkout my Pedro Pascal Masterlist if you'd like to read some more Pedro works by me.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Additional Warnings: Daddy kink, dom/sub undertones, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, vaginal sex, and creampie.

London was beautiful.

Maybe a bit too cold for your tastes, but beautiful nonetheless.

It was your first time ever in the city… actually, it was your first time out of the States period. You always loved to travel, but never had the time or the money to invest in it. So, being in a new city and a new country was extremely exciting.

Big Ben was gorgeous, the London Eye was romantic, and Buckingham Palace was elegant. So many new and exciting sights all around you and yet your only focus was on Pedro, holding on tightly to his arm as he escorted you down the red carpet.

“Okay?” He asked, turning his attention towards you for a moment. You smiled up at him and nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you did so. The red carpet still made you incredibly uncomfortable, but you had gotten better at it since Oscar night. It’s not something you enjoy, but you didn’t mind it as long as Pedro was there for you to follow and hold onto.

“After I finish presenting, we can head to the afterparty if you want. There’s really no need to stay if you’re not feeling it.” He offered once you were finally away from the blinding cameras.

“That sounds great, actually. I could use a drink."

"Yeah? What're you feeling?" You pondered for a moment.

"Honestly, I'm not really sure. Maybe something with vodka or bourbon."

"Bourbon, huh? Are you homesick?" You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes with your tongue stuck out at him, earning a deep chuckle as he placed a kiss on your temple.

He teases you about that every time bourbon is brought up.

After the usual press interviews and greetings with Pedro’s peers, you were finally able to take your seats, getting as close to him as possible while he draped his arm across the back of your seat.

Before meeting Pedro, you loved award shows. It was an excuse to get off your ass with friends and shit on the biased bastards who clearly chose the winners on other criteria besides which film had been best crafted.

Now, you fucking hated them. Having to sit still in a seat and listen to these rich snobs drone on and on about nothing important for hours on end with no booze or idiotic friends to laugh with made it damn near unbearable for you. Pedro knew this and picked up on your fidgeting about 40 minutes into the show. He placed his hand on your bouncing knee, gently rubbing his thumb over it.

"You can go on to the party if you want, Abeja. I still have a bit before my presentation and I know how restless you get with these things.” You shook your head, going back to bouncing your knee, but a bit gentler this time.

“Nah. I want to stay here with you and show my support.” He chuckled.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me and you know that." A split second of silence fell between you as you weighed your options, but he wasn't having it.

"Go. Have a drink and loosen up a bit. I’ll come find you after I present and we can watch the clip together on YouTube later.”

Normally, you wouldn’t listen to him and would tough it out. Pedro lit up like a kid on Christmas anytime he was on camera and you loved to see it, but he was right. The video of him presenting would be on YouTube within minutes of it being aired so you’d still be able to see it.

"... Okay. I have my phone if you want me to come back." You offered.

"Alright. I’ll see you in a bit, honey." You exchanged a quick kiss, bunched your dress up in both hands, and nearly booked it out of the theatre, more than happy to finally be away from all the formal shit.

You were the first one at the party, rushing over the bartender and ordering some Jim Beam and Coke. Pretty basic, but it was just something to get you started.

"Your accent is lovely." The bartender complimented as he slid your drink to you.

"Oh, this ugly thing?" You gestured to your vocal chords. "I respectfully disagree, but thank you. I’d much rather have one like yours. Sounds much nicer than deep fried hick." The young man laughed, resting his elbow on the bar.

"Where you from?" You took a sip of the concoction before answering.

"Kentucky. Born and raised." The bartender looked at your drink and then back at you.

"You're not a little homesick are ya?" He asked, gesturing to your drink. You groaned, rolling your eyes and laying your head on the bar.

"Why does everyone ask me that? I just like bourbon, okay?" The bartender laughed again as you took another sip.

"Yes ma'am. I apologize. I'm Brice." He held his hand out for you to shake. You did, giving him your name in return. "So, this your first time in the UK?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The afterparty had a lot more people now, the three drinks you've had relaxing you and tinting your cheeks blush red. It wasn't enough for you to ditch your filter, but it did make you quite giggly.

Brice especially found your giggle fits endearing. He had been talking to you the entire time you’d been there, only leaving to serve the other guests before coming back over to you. He'd lean on the marble bar as you spoke and he started telling you bad jokes just to get you to giggle. He seemed like a pretty cool dude.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, watching you closely as you down your shot of whiskey. You put the glass back on the bar with a clank, letting out a sigh as you felt the liquor run warm down to your stomach.

"Sure. What's on your mind?" You answer. Brice takes the glass from you and washes it quickly, drying it off with a towel as he seems to ponder on how to say what he's about to say.

"You know, you're pretty awesome and I would love to get to know you better away from all of this." He started, gesturing around the party atmosphere. "So, I was wondering if you would like to exchange phone numbers? Maybe socials as well?"

Ah Lord. You were nowhere near drunk enough to deal with this shit. Brice seemed like a cool guy, but you didn't think you were coming off that way and immediately felt terrible for leading him on. You opened your mouth to say… something. You weren't really sure, but it was going to be better than dumbass silence. However, you didn't even get a word out before you felt a familiar hand on your back and Pedro’s voice right by your ear.

Perfect. Just in time to be used as a gentle decline.

"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you." You spun around to come face to face with Pedro, your face instantly lighting up as soon as you saw him. He looked you over with a smile, noticing your flushed cheeks and drunken giggles.

"I see you've had your drink." You nodded, holding up four fingers. "Oh, four. Excuussse me."

Pedro looked over to Brice and ordered his own drink. He noticed that the young man had a melancholy look to him, his blue eyes shifting right back to you as soon as he acknowledged his drink order.

"Is he bothering you?" Pedro whispered, not taking his eyes off of the bartender as he made his drink. You gasped, pretending to be offended.

"Nooooo! Brice would never!"

Pedro wasn't usually a jealous man, but something about the current situation was making his blood boil. He concealed it well and thanked "Brice" when he handed him his drink.

"I'm going to go say hi to some friends. You wanna come with me?" You groaned, not really wanting to put your formal face back on, but your desire to be around Pedro as much as possible outweighed all of it.

“Fiiinnee. I’m not talking, though.” He held his hand out for you to take, helping you down from the bar stool before placing his hand on your lower back. He gave the bartender one last glance, trying his best not to feel the pride swell in his chest when he saw how devastated the poor guy looked.

About an hour had passed when you returned to the bar for another drink, Brice apologizing for being forward as he slid you your shot.

“I didn’t know you were with someone. I’m sorry.” You fanned your hand at him, downing your shot in one go.

“It’s no big deal. I didn’t say anything so you couldn’t have known. For what it’s worth, I think you're an awesome dude and would love to exchange socials with you. You have a discord?” Brice’s eyes lit up as he nodded, grabbing a pen and paper to write his username on.

After exchanging little scraps of paper, you continued chatting with him and ended up getting giggly again from the shot. Brice noticed and started telling his horrible jokes again, but your drunk ass still found them fucking hilarious. You were still sober enough to keep the filter, but you were talking and laughing pretty loudly.

Brice was in the middle of a joke when you felt Pedro’s large and warm hand wrap around your upper arm. You melted into him with a fit of giggles, Pedro laughing at how cute you were as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your eyes.

"C'mon, honey. I think it's time for us to turn in." Pedro said, a groan leaving your lips.

"Let Brice finish this last joke and then I'll come okay?"

This time, Pedro didn't hide his rage, looking up at Brice with the most intimidating look he could muster while he had you drunk in his arms. It definitely worked, the poor dude shrinking in on himself as his eyes widened with fear.

"A-actually I'll send it to you on Discord, okay? I think you should go with your boyfriend." Brice stuttered out, clearly intimidated by your sweet teddy bear which you found hilarious. So hilarious that you didn't even question why he was angry in the first place.

Pedro was satisfied with Brice's answer and deep down felt terrible for being such an asshole, turning his attention back to you leaning on him and still giggling.

"C'mon, Abeja. Let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to your shared hotel room had barely shut before Pedro had you cornered, his eyes dark and the smell of his cologne dancing under your nostrils. You had sobered up a bit on the drive back to the hotel and was starting to feel tired.

You whine pitifully, mildly upset that he was keeping you from your plans of peaceful dreams.

"What is it, P? M'tired." You groaned. Pedro scoffed above you.

"Am I not enough for you?" He growled. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and look up at him.

"Huh? What're you tal-"

"Is this old man not enough for your little pussy? Huh?" You froze and swallowed hard, now understanding where he was going with this and you very much liked it, your exhaustion instantly forgotten.

"N-no… You're perfect." He chuckled darkly, leaning down to trail his lips gently over your neck. You moaned quietly, feeling his stubble tickle your sensitive skin.

"Really? Then why would you waste your time with that... boy?”

Ooohhhh. Brice.

"He-he was just being friendly. He seemed like a pretty cool guy an-"

Pedro interrupted you by slamming you against the door, pinning your wrists to the cold steel as he got close to you, his lips only inches away from yours.

"You have no idea what you'd be missing." He snarled, your pussy clenching hard from just his words and voice alone.

"... Show me, then.”

Pedro growls low in his throat and pushes you harder into the door, now holding both of your wrists in his left hand as he caresses your face and lifts his knee up to your clothed cunt.

"Gonna fuck you so good. Your young little pussy won't be able to take it all." You whined quietly, grinding yourself down onto his knee.

"Please..." Pedro's breath hitched, his grip tightening on your wrists.

"See, look at you... You're already coming apart and I've only given you my knee. That boy wouldn't even get you this close with his inexperience. Only I know exactly what you need." You were squirming at this point, your juices already starting to soak through your panties.

"Please, Daddy… Please..." You begged as he pressed his knee even harder into your dripping heat.

"Patience, my sweet Abeja. Daddy will give you everything soon."

He jerked your wrists forward, pulling you close as he let go of his hold to grab your ass and hoist you up. You quietly squeaked in surprise, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he quickly carried you over to the bed. He threw you down on it, the springs protesting lightly from the sudden weight as Pedro began to strip.

He almost had his undershirt unbuttoned when you sat up and tried to unzip your dress, but he stopped you by pinning your wrists to the mattress.

“Only Daddy’s allowed to take that dress off, baby girl.” You whined, another gush soaking your already damp panties.

He let go of your wrists again and continued to undress, looking over your body hungrily as he did so.

“I bet you’re soaked already, aren’t you, pretty girl?” You nodded rubbing your thighs together as your pussy clenched again. He parted your legs and haphazardly lifted your dress. He groaned at the sight of your heather gray panties darkening in color as your arousal continued to seep.

The stylist had highly advised you to wear sexy underwear with the dress, but you didn't care. You'd take comfort over looks anyday and Pedro didn't seem to have a problem with your choice of underwear.

He took his right pointer finger and ran it gently over the darkening patch, the bulge in his boxers twitching and somehow getting harder.

"Fuck, look at you. So shameless." He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you to the side of the bed while getting down on his knees. You impatiently began to fidget, knowing exactly what he was doing. He pulled your panties aside, the sight of your glistening pussy spurring him on as he yanked you closer and licked you from your opening to your throbbing clit.

“Daddy…” You sighed, your hands instantly tangling in his hair. Pedro groaned, the vibrations and his facial hair feeling heavenly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and threw them over his shoulders, pulling you even closer and pressing the pads of his fingers into your smooth skin.

“MMmmmm.” You whined, the sudden movement causing your pussy to clench around nothing. You spared a glance down to Pedro. You could only see his eyes, but that was more than enough, his dark chocolate orbs staring up at you with a dizzying mixture of adoration and lust.

Pedro loved how wreaked you looked, your mouth hung open and your eyes hooded. He took pride that he was the one making you feel this way, knowing that he was the only one who got to see you like this.

He’d had plans on taking his time with you, slowly bringing you to one orgasm after another with his tongue, fingers, and cock; but the sight of you losing yourself just on his tounge alone drove him crazy and he grew impatient.

He pulled away from you too soon for your liking, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal as he yanked off your underwear in one swoop. He discarded his boxers as he stood up, pinning you to the bed as he drug the head of his cock through your slick folds a few times.

“You’re mine, understand?” You nodded quickly, wanting so desperately for him to get on with it. “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours, Daddy… Please….” You begged.

“Please what?” Your mind was so fuzzy with arousal, that you could barely process the words he was saying, let alone compose some of your own, but Pedro wasn’t having it. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked it, the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure only making your neediness worse.

“Answer me.”

“Fuck me!” You whined, your voice hoarse and weak, but still loud enough for him to get the message. Pedro let go of your hair and caressed your face, the gentle gesture a far cry from how he’d pulled your hair barley seconds ago.

“Good girl.” When he finally pushed himself in, you both made noises of pleasure, Pedro wasting no time. "God, you feel so good, baby." He groaned, starting to thrust into you faster. Though you both were inpatient and did very little foreplay, you were still absolutely soaked.

“You hear that?” He gruffed, his facial hair tickling your jaw as the sounds of your wet pussy squelched almost musically. “That boy could never get you this wet. You’d probably have to- fuck- have to use lube just to get started.”

You were already close. It’d been a hot minute since you’ve seen each other, your music classes revving up for concert season and his schedule getting booked by the day. It was hard to be away from one another for so long, but this… this made it worthwhile. No toy or vibrator could ever top the way Pedro made you feel.

"Pedro…" You groaned.

"That's it. Scream Daddy's name, baby girl. Show the boys who you belong to."

His cock repeatedly rubbing against your g-spot sent waves of tingling pleasure all throughout your lower half, the intensity of it building higher and higher as he continued.

"Don't stop, Daddy. Please don't stop." You whined, your voice getting higher as your orgasm grew closer.”

"Cum on Daddy's cock, Abeja. Let him feel you drip." Like a rubber band being pulled too tight, you snapped, your back arching off the bed and your toes curling. It hit you hard, your pussy drenching his cock and throbbing relentlessly with wave after wave of chilling pleasure.

“Mmm, Daddy’s gonna cum, baby girl. Whe-where do you want it?” He panted, his movements slowing for a few seconds while he waited on your answer.

“Inside…” You whined, your orgasm still wreaking havoc as he sped back up.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna… gonna…” He thrust his cock into you one last time, his own orgasm tearing through him with the same intensity as yours. The feeling of his cum warming your insides and his throbbing cock brought you to the peak for a second time. It wasn’t very intense, but getting filled up always made your orgasm even if they’re small.

Pedro collapsed onto you, his lips colliding with yours in a slow, passionate kiss. You laid your head back with a sigh on pleasure, Pedro chasing after you to gently kiss and nibble at your chin.

“I know you like me to stay in for a bit after we finish, but can we please make an exception this time? My back is killing me in this position.” You snorted.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking old.” Pedro pulled out slowly, the feeling of his cum seeping out dazing you again for a moment. He smugly smirked at the sight, his hand gently caressing your upper thigh as he watched it trail down your folds.

“You weren't complaining about it earlier.”

A little later, you were laying on Pedro’s chest as he played with your hair, both of you just enjoying each other's company and the silence after a night of constant noise.

"Since when do you get jealous?" You finally asked, breaking the peace as his hand stilled in your hair.

"M'not… not usually anyway." You traced small circles on his chest for a moment.

"What was so different this time?" He sighed deeply, the silence returning as he thought of an answer.

“I dunno. I guess I just…” He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“There’s just... so many people out there… people who have their entire lives ahead of them, who doesn’t have back pain, who doesn’t have gray hair and wrinkles, and who doesn’t sound like rice crispies in the morning and…” He paused, his arms tightening around you.

“... Someone who has the time to give you all the attention you deserve. I feel so guilty knowing that I can’t wake you up with breakfast every morning, that I have to leave you alone for months and months at a time, and that you have to face so much scrutiny because of my age. When I saw you with Brice, you looked so happy and it made me think of all the things that I can’t give you…”

He was choking up at this point, his eyes glassy and brimming with tears. You sat up a bit to face him, your hand caressing his face and gently scratching his facial hair as you stared into his watery eyes.

“Pedro… don’t say things like that. You are more than enough for me. You’re so kind and smart and oh so sweet. You’ll come take care of me when I’m sick, you respect me and treat me as my own person, you spoil me even though I beg you not to, and you love me for who I am.” Pedro sniffled as you rested your forehead atop his.

“You are hands down the most amazing man I’ve ever met and no amount of scrutiny, grey hair, or rice crispy joints is going to change that. You may think that you can’t give me everything, but you give me more than enough and I love you more than anything on this Earth.”

Pedro smiled a small smile, bringing up his left hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and caress your jaw as a tear fell down his cheek.

“I don’t deserve you…” He whispered. You wiped the tear away with your thumb and leaned down to kiss him for a bit.

"That, and you're such a DILF. I mean, did you see yourself in Narcos?" He laughed, wiping his eyes with his wrist as he got up to take a shower.

"Alright, bye. Your fangirl's coming out." You got up as well, hoping to finally take off that stupid dress and join him.

“You know you love it.” His arms suddenly wrap around you from behind, his lips pressing gentle kisses on your shoulders.

“More than anything.”

[menalez]

Hi menalez so this is extremely off topic and personal but I thought maybe you could have a helpful perspective on this. I'm a bisexual woman in a committed relationship of five years with a lesbian woman. We're extremely connected and loving, but recently something came up that worries me. So we were partying with friends and I was talking to some of them when I noticed that my girlfriend was being pestered by some guy, so obviously I went up to them to make sure she was OK. Suddenly this man asked me about a threesome which I instantly rejected and got offended. He told me they had a bet on what would be my answer, so I told him that was that. He made it worse, of course, by asking what if it wasn't him, what if it was another man, a woman... Until I coldly told him to stop, and he got away. My girlfriend apologized to me but she was visibly shaken. For context, we used to have an open relationship because I was really insecure and coping with a shit load of trauma when we started and so was she. I wasn't sure I deserved her or that she would want to be committed to me in that way. Afterwards, I started to work a lot in myself because I really wanted to make it work with her, and I started to read into radical feminism which has helped me build my self esteem and realize what I'm OK with and what I'm not. All of it made me realize that what I really wanted out of the relationship was true equality and stability, which I don't necessarily see as possible in a relationship where there are more than two people. I realized that I had a lot of internalized biphobic ideas that I needed to fit into a hypersexual stereotype and slowly talked about these realizations with her, terrified that she wouldn't see it that way and that she would leave me. She did not, in fact she confessed similar feelings and we officially closed off our relationship. I'm completely happy this way, with her, but deep down I wonder if I truly am enough sometimes. So, after this guy kept asking about threesomes I was wondering whether she actually wanted that (with another woman, obviously), and I asked her. She gave me ambiguous answers until she said that "she understood that there were things she was not able to give me". I countered that I was also not able to be, I don't know, a natural redhead, a different body type or a different ethnicity, and asked her if she would miss being with women that were different than me. She said it's not the same thing and I told her that for me it is, of course I can find other people attractive, some of them men, but I don't feel the need or even want to be with someone else. I want her, I love her. She said that she loves me too, and by this time she broke down and apologized because she felt she was being biphobic but that she couldn't help but feel like I would always be missing something if I could not have sex with men for the rest of my life. She's wrong, I assured her I as capable of being committed as she is, as anyone is, and my sexuality doesn't factor into it. But I did not get offended as I can see where it's coming from (the whole of society centering men and heterosexual relationships, and her own insecurities and some fucking guy coming in when she's drunk and feeding her some disgusting shit about our relationship).

As a bisexual woman threesomes are admittedly a hot button for me because everyone seems to think I must want to live a 24/7 orgy, and I don't. But I didn't expect my girlfriend to actually think I can't be happy in a monogamous relationship. I guess it is an understandable fear lesbians might have about bisexual women, so I don't really hold it against her. I just want to know how to make her feel secure and safe in our relationship. How to convince her that she is who I want to be with. What do you make of this?

I know you are not a love advisor so sorry for the long rant lol, I'm curious to hear a lesbian's perspective on this, seeing as I know what the bisexual perspective is already. I don't fear for our relationship, I know we care for each other and are patient with each other. But I just want to know how to help her see that she has nothing to worry about, or if there's anything I should take into consideration that I am not right now.

im sorry theres this issue in ur relationship and ur gf’s insecurities are taking a toll on u too since it relates to ur sexuality :( tbh maybe you could emphasise that like…. there’s literally nothing a man can offer you that she can’t? if u want penetration she can do that, if u don’t she can offer that… so what exactly would being with her make you miss out on? you’re attracted to women and women aren’t people who can’t offer as much as men, not sexually speaking nor in other ways. keep repeating that to her until she starts to trust in that and realises her insecurity is really more about her than about what you want and feel fulfilled with. and i guess maybe also clarify that the reason u asked her if a 3some is sth she wants isnt because it’s something you actually want but bc that guy’s statements got in ur head a bit. i do hope she realises ultimately that like if you’ve been together 5 years and ur fine being without a man, why would that change? and if it did, why would it be a reflection of her rather than a reflection of you? and to also realise that bi women can be committed in a relationship and not desire a person of a different sex to their partner

[snapdragon-mina]

Enchanted Pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x GN!Reader

A/N: UHHHHH, here's my late entry for ✨the newest✨ POCuties Sever Collab Based on the movie version of Ella Enchanted

Warnings: No beta we die like men, a couple swear words here and there, mentions of death, attempted murder, and this is a Crack fic treated seriously. Part 2 will be out within a few hours of this.

Word Count: 2.8k

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

----------------❌----------------

It all starts with a baby. A beautiful baby named (y/n) was born into a comfortable family. This baby cried a lot, wanting to be held by their mother constantly. She took good care of her baby alongside kiyoko, a household fairy. Everything worked out beautifully until a particular fairy godmother appeared. As desperately as the mother and kiyoko tried, they could not hide the baby from Satori (the only fairy godfather who gave god awful gifts).

As much as Satori tried to quiet the baby's crying, it would not stop. This gave him the perfect idea for a gift. He gave the child the "gift" of obedience. (y/n) would not be able to disobey a command given to them no matter what. Kiyoko absolutely hated the gift that Satori gifted the baby and begged him to take it back but he refused.

Despite the gift they were given, (y/n) grew up to be strong willed and determined. Once they discovered a girl being bullied for something as stupid as a name, they quickly took to standing up for her. The girl introduced herself as Yachi and they became best friends very quickly.

When (y/n) discovered the gift, they asked for Kiyoko to take it away, only to be told that she couldn't. But despite this, (y/n) always fought against the gift whenever they could.

When (y/n) was still a child, their mother grew very ill. As she laid in her bed, she told (y/n) to never reveal their gift to anyone. She didn't want her child to be taken advantage of. Before she passed away, she gave them her necklace to remember her by.

----💫----

Getting dressed, (y/n) put on their mother's necklace only to be interrupted by none other than Kiyoko. "(Y/n), your father wants to speak to you." She said before taking her leave.

(y/n) walked to their father's study only to receive shocking news.

"What?! You're married??"

"Look, she has money. It was either marry her or sell the house. She has two sons, so there's no doubt she's a wonderful mother-figure." He let out a sigh before continuing. "I'm sure you'll all be the best of friends, just... give them all a chance."

The next morning, three people arrived in a carriage. They were *not* pleased at the sight of the house.

(y/n)'s father greeted the three with a warm smile and two kisses to the woman's cheeks. "Welcome, my dear. These must be your sons?"

She nodded with a fake smile. "Yes, this is my dear Tooru, and my... other son, Tobio." The brunette just stared while the black haired one did an exaggerated bow. Just as this occurred, (y/n) walks out of the house to meet the three new people who were supposedly living with them now.

"You must be (y/n)." The woman said, giving them a once over. (y/n) bowed and greeted them with a polite "pleased to meet you."

After a short, awkward pause, the woman returned her attention to the father. "You have a wonderful home, but I recall you saying that you had a castle." she hissed out.

He shook his head. "No no, you must be mistaken, I said "A man's home is his castle"."

While their father and the lady talked, (y/n) introduced themselves with a smile only to be almost completely ignored.

Inside the house, the two brothers began setting up. Tooru putting up posters of a prince while Tobio explained.

"Tooru's president of Prince Tetsu's fan club." They grinned at each other only for their faces to fall into a scowl when (y/n) spoke.

"You must be aware that Tetsurou and his uncle are responsible for the segregation of the kingdom, right?"

With a judging look, Tooru spoke. "so? He's hot."

After looking around a bit the two were getting increasingly displeased with their surroundings. A small room, damn near nonexistent closet space, etc. "This won't work." The brunette spoke in a clearly disgusted tone. "We'll use yours. Show it to us."

Unable to disobey the command, (y/n) led them towards their room. Tooru narrowed his eyes and seemed to file that bit of information for later. Upon reaching the room, He was immediately disgusted. "It looks awful. There isn't any room here either. We're throwing out some of your clothes."

"what?! No. Get out of my closet." They went to attempt to force him away only for him to immediately demand that you get away from him.

As they backed up, He noticed the necklace and demanded that it be given to him. Unfortunately, (y/n) was forced to hand over the necklace.

Not a moment later, (y/n)'s father announced his business trip. They needed money and his work was the only thing keeping them afloat.

----💫----

During a heated debate in class is when Tooru figured it out. They'd been debating on whether king Kei had been a fair ruler or not. (y/n) was vehemently arguing in favor that he was not. He'd enslaved every other race and forced them to work in little stereotyped boxes. He'd made laborers and entertainers out of anyone non human. (y/n) *hated* it.

Tooru, on the other hand, thought that he was a wonderful ruler. He gave us free enterprises, humans don't have to work hard at things that *they* should be doing. They disagreed and when (y/n) insulted the prince. Tooru demanded that they apologize and admit they're wrong and when (y/n) did, it all clicked. (Y/n) couldn't obey a single command they were given.

----⭐----

"Do I really have to go to this mall opening?" Tetsurou asked his uncle as they sat inaide of an extremely expensive looking carriage.

"As heir to the throne, it's your responsibility. You're a public figure. You have to be seen." Kei told him simply.

"Yeah but you're the one in charge."

"Not for long. Your coronation is next week and you need to be out there with your people, Tetsu."

Seated next to Kei was Tadashi, who was something like Kei's closest companion. You would rarely ever see Kei without Tadashi.

Kei advised Tetsurou that keeping a good public image builds trust within a kingdom before telling him of the things that where apparently going on within the kingdom.

Of giants and ogres wanting to rebel against them and take them down but none of this sounded right to him.

"The giants have always been peaceful." Tetsurou said, confused as to why he was being told otherwise.

"The ogres were once peaceful as well. Until they killed your father in cold blood." His voice held a certain edge to it. "Before your father's gruesome death, I promised him that if anything happened to him, I would take care of you and the kingdom." Pushing up his glasses, a glare formed on the glass, shielding his eyes from view. "I have kept my promise, haven't I?"

Tetsurou remained silent for the rest of the ride, turning to face the window instead of his uncle.

----💫----

(Y/n) sat in the crowd next to Yachi, surrounded by hundreds of adoring fans of the prince as king Kei made an announcement.

"Thank you. It's wonderful to be in your... charming town of... Frell. Prince Tetsurou and I-" He was immediately cut off by the sounds of hundreds of people screaming at the mere mention of the prince's name. Kei decided to get the announcement done and over with. "And now it's with great pleasure that I introduce Prince Tetsurou."

Screams broke out again as the prince stepped into view. He waved as he walked out.

This was their cue.

Immediately, (y/n) and Yachi stood up on a fountain holding banners that read Say No To Ogrecide! and Stop Giant Land Grab!. The began chanting these words at the prince, catching his attention.

Tooru did not like this. He immediately ran over to the two protesting. "You're embarrassing us!" he hissed. "Go Home. Now."

Immediately, (y/n) began apologizing to Yachi as they left her there.

----⭐----

"Prince Tetsu, are you a fast runner?" A girl in the front asked him. He shook his head with a smile.

"Not really, why?" He immediately regretted those words. Because as soon as they left his mouth, the crowd charged at him; forcing him to flee.

He ran as quickly as he could until he ran into someone walking down a pathway. Quickly, he pulled them down and behind a stone wall.

"Prince Tetsurou."

"Please, call me Tetsu..." He trailed off, looking at the person he had just pulled down. "Sorry about that." He attempted to help them up, only to immediately be shot down.

"I don't need your chivalry and I definitely don't intend on bowing to you, either." They dusted themselves off and began walking away.

"Bow or not, that's your choice. Can't really do much about that other than have you beheaded, but that's a bit too much" he joked.

"Charming. Why don't you do what your people usually do? Steal my land and destroy my livelihood. Now if you'll excuse me." They continued walking away only to be forcefully stopped by him commanding them to wait and come back.

Groaning, (y/n) turned around and walked back to him, standing directly in front of him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"(Y/n) of Frell."

"(Y/n)... You're one of the first people I've met that hasn't immediately melted at the sight of me." He sounded astonished.

"It might've done you some good." They rolled their eyes and went to turn around and leave again.

Tetsurou paused and looked offended. "Wait, I've never stolen anyone's land nor their livelihood. I want peace in the kingdom as much as anyone."

(y/n) turned around with a scowl on their face. "So you have a new plan once you take the crown?"

"Well... Sorta... I can't reveal it though."

They scoffed in his face. "Yeah, thought so. Y'know you're all the same. You care more about your fancy club and next jousting tournament."

"I- well I've never been comfortable with having a fanclub. In fact... Your obvious hatred of me is kinda refreshing." He grinned.

"Obvious? I was trying so hard to hide it." They rolled their eyes and continued on their walk home. As they were walking they suddenly remembered leaving their bag. Any attempt to go retrieve it was immediately stopped by a simple "wait right there."

They were stuck in place as Tetsu rushed back to get it. Unfortunately, a carriage was rushing towards them. They called out his name but was only saved as they were inches away from getting hit.

"Are you insane?! Why didn't you move?" Tetsurou asked.

"Yeah... I would've... were it not for your apparent fascination with knocking me to the ground." They sat up. "This is the second time today."

"Yeah well I'll try to be more considerate next time you're about to get ran over."

"What makes you think we'll see each other again?" They raised an eyebrow.

"Won't we?" he asked.

"Nope."

Before much else could be said, Tooru stood in the middle of the path, seething. "Get over here."

Immediately, (y/n) got up and walked over.

"Shouldn't you be at home cleaning the fireplace?" Tooru let out a forced laugh before whispering to them. "Stop flirting. I'm going to be at his coronation."

"Yeah in the center of the table with an apple in your mouth." They muttered in response.

"Go back to the mall with Tobio."

(y/n) stormed off with Tobio in tow as Tooru stayed back to try to flirt with his royal highness.

----💫----

At the mall, (y/n) met back up with Yachi. "Where were you?" the girl asked. (y/n) explained their meeting with the prince and went on to say that Tobio and Tooru were there.

"Why do you always do what Tooru tells you to?" She asked.

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Tell the truth."

"Guess I do..."

A moment later the two were spotted by Tobio and Tooru. "(Y/n). take that for me." Tooru asked, pointing towards something on a stand. The moment they took it, something lit up in Tobio's eyes. It quickly devolved into demanding them to steal various items against their will until they got caught taking a pair of glass slippers.

It resulted in (y/n) getting chased throughout the mall by a guard.

----💫----

The moment their new step mother learned that (y/n) had been arrested for theft, she flew into exaggerated hysterics. "A felon in my own home!" she cried.

Kiyoko immediately came to their defense. "They were probably put up to it. The (y/n) I know, would never do this." She glared at the brothers. However, as Tooru looked out the window, He got an idea.

"Kiyoko's right, we were there. They were forced to and it isn't poor (y/n)'s fault at all." He sighed to his mother, leaving (y/n) and kiyoko confused.

"So, Who put you up to it?" The woman demanded as she looked away.

A devious smirk graced Tooru's face. "Tell her it was Yachi." He whispered.

"Y-" They quickly covered their mouth but that wasn't enough. "Yachi."

Kiyoko closed her eyes and let out a sigh. The woman immediately forbade (y/n) from ever speaking to them again.

It was then that Yachi approached the door with the intent to ask (y/n) about what had happened at the mall. (y/n) was forced to answer the door and tell their best and only friend that they never want to see her again.

Later that day, (y/n) cried to Kiyoko about how awful the experience was until they came to the conclusion that they absolutely had to find the fairy that cursed them and Kiyoko offered something that would help them.

She held a book in her hands and present it to to them.

"I'm not... The most talented fairy... But this book is my boyfriend, Ryuu..."

The book was a light pink and gold with a magic mirror in the center. It showed a face in it and the moment he was revealed, he greeted (y/n).

"I've never seen anyone like it."

"Well, It was an accident. I wanted to practice a spell that would trim his hair since it had grown out, but it... didn't go well. So now he's in a book." Kiyoko explained.

Kiyoko allowed (y/n) to take Ryuu along with them on their journey.

----💫----

They walked through a forest, holding Ryuu in their hands when they heard screams. An elf was stuck to a spinning wheel as a couple of people threw darts at him. The elf told them to kick their asses and they did just that.

He began commentating as they fought off the guys and eventually, they won the fight with the men retreating.

Immediately (y/n) helped the elf down and checked on them quickly. Fortunately, the elf was completely uninjured.

"I'm Shoyo!"

"I'm (y/n). Nice to meet you. Now if you're okay, it was nice to meet you but I have to leave."

That didn't sit well with Shoyo. He immediately began arguing and trying to convince them to eat with him until he succeeded. Convinced that (y/n) wouldn't make it through the woods alone.

Eventually they made it to a bar in an Shoyo's home town with only a minor distraction.

Inside of the bar, they both sat down to eat and so (y/n) decided to ask a question. "Why don't you like music?"

"Right because all Elves are supposed to love singing and dancing. I wanna be an athlete, not an singer or dancer."

(Y/n) nodded sympathetically. "Yeah I understand that. I'd forgotten all about the laws that restrict elves from being anything other than singers and other occupations like that."

----💫----

After convincing Shoyo to come with them, (y/n) walked alongside him calmly until they were caught up with a couple of ogres. (y/n) tried to convince the ogres that that they were on their side only for that to backfire horribly and end up with them being steadily lowered into a pot with Shoyo tied to a tree.

Extremely conveniently, Prince Tetsurou found them and fought off the ogres, freeing (y/n) and Shoyo. He backed one of them against a tree with a sword pointed at the ogre's neck. "Are you one of the monsters that killed my father?"

The ogre looked confused. "What? No no, you've got it all wrong. King Koutarou was a good man! We lived in peace during his reign, why would we ever want to kill him?"

Tetsurou pulled the sword away from the ogre but didn't seem to believe his words. "Leave. Find breakfast somewhere else."

The ogres agreed and quickly left the area. Tetsurou turned towards (y/n). "What are you doing here w with an elf for protection? Do you get off to near death experiences or something?"

"No. I had things under control." They lied.

"Yeah, sure you did. I see the score stands Chivalry: 2, Gratitude: 0." He said, back facing them.

They apologized and thanked him for the help before cleaning dressing a wound he'd gotten from protecting them.

"So... Where are you heading?"

"A giant's wedding. I have to meet my godfather."

"That's on the way back to me home, I'll come with."

"No thanks."

"Too bad."

[dweetwise]

a short one this time, ft. a lighthearted breakfast together <3

ship: felix x ace warnings: none word count: 2350

[previous] [next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 4)

Ace had a pretty good feeling about this morning.

He'd tried to slip away gracefully to avoid the awkward morning after, but Felix had stopped him. In Ace’s opinion, getting in some silly chatter and morning cuddles was much preferable to a walk of shame before the sun was even fully up. At the very least, it beat going to his room to start the day with a shot of gin from the mini bar like he’d originally planned.

Felix had seemed much more relaxed this morning, though he was still awkward; at this point, Ace just accepted it as part of his charm.

Suggesting to get breakfast together was a spur-of-the-moment idea—as if Ace ever had any other ones. As soon as the opportunity to spend time with Felix in a casual setting where Ace didn’t smell like week-old-liquor presented itself, Ace took it, and Felix happily accepted.

Which is why Ace wasn’t really nervous when returning to his room to get more presentable. He even had time to start cleaning his messy room in preparation for Felix's visit for tonight, because after only a quick shower and even quicker internal debate between two different shirts, Ace was ready to go.

And from the way Felix's gaze immediately drops to said shirt, he seems to have made the right choice.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Ace offers with a grin, pleased with picking the navy blue button-up with a pineapple print.

It's cute how quickly Felix's nervous demeanor seems to calm down in Ace’s company. He goes from tense and running a hand through his hair to smiling in just a second, whatever he was fretting about momentarily forgotten.

“I was worried I'd be late,” Felix says, stepping into the elevator and coming to stand way closer to Ace than is appropriate.

But this time, they don't have an audience that would make it awkward.

“You really do worry way too much,” Ace offers with a carefree smile.

“I've been told that,” Felix smiles sheepishly, before his eyes are drawn downward, to the second button of Ace's shirt that he deliberately left unbuttoned.

Following suit, Ace lets his own gaze roam appreciatively over Felix's outfit, a sadly not as tight tee with a tasteful, open vest and snugly fitting washed denim jeans. His hair is loose and looks even softer than it was in the morning.

All in all, he looks extremely kissable.

“I like the look,” Ace says, meeting Felix's eyes. And if he tilts his head up in silent invitation, nobody can prove it.

“Me too,” Felix says, returning a small smile, before flustering. “I mean—your look. The outfit,” he explains.

And somehow, the awkward floundering makes him even more kissable.

Sadly, the elevator ride isn't infinite, and they arrive at the lobby floor before Ace can instigate a make-out session.

“Shall we?” Ace offers with a smile.

“After you,” Felix agrees, oh-so-polite.

They give their room numbers at the restaurant counter, and then are off to the breakfast hall that’s somewhat crowded despite the late hour. Ace isn't surprised that people decided to sleep in after the rude wake-up in the middle of the night, but the crowd does make it somewhat of an annoying experience.

Luckily, he has company to keep him entertained while they wait in line.

Felix trails after him, which Ace doesn't mind in the slightest, but it's only when the German stops in front of the cereal section and looks at him meaningfully that Ace cocks his head in confusion.

“You were supposed to help me pick,” Felix says, deadly serious.

Ace tries not to laugh that Felix seemed to take his earlier invitation literally. He really shouldn’t be surprised at the man’s quirks anymore.

And that's how Ace ends up improvising a three-minute lecture about why corn flakes are superior to muesli.

“I see,” Felix says, nodding in understanding, reaching for the cereal—

And choosing muesli.

“Hey!” Ace exclaims, mock offended. “Didn't you listen to any of what I just said?”

“Yes. I just don't agree,” Felix says, way too nonchalant, spooning the cereal onto his bowl. “I like this one better.”

“It has raisins!” Ace exclaims, flabbergasted.

“I like raisins,” Felix points out.

“Oh, babe,” Ace sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “And here I thought you had taste.”

Ace quickly peeks back up at Felix, needing to make sure he didn't take the joke personally.

“Shut up,” Felix snorts, elbowing Ace. “Come on, let's go argue about juice next.”

After a brief conversation about juice ("Who the hell drinks apple juice!?" "I don't like the texture of orange pulp") followed by going through the rest of the breakfast selection together, Ace discovers that Felix is an incredibly picky eater.

When they sit down at a table, the difference between his and Felix's servings is hilariously prominent.

Felix's plate holds two pieces of toast, a fried egg and some sliced fruit, compared to Ace's overflowing plate featuring 90 % of the entire breakfast selection.

Usually Ace wouldn’t care about other people’s eating habits, but the knowledge makes him a little nervous about their dinner.

“Really adventurous with the white toast, I see,” Ace teases.

“At least I don't have bacon with pancakes,” Felix shoots back.

“I ran out of room on my plate!” Ace protests, but Felix only smirks behind his cup of coffee. “So, what kind of food do you like?” Ace prods, digging into his meal.

“I don't really have a preference,” Felix says diplomatically.

But Ace can smell the bullshit a mile away.

“Really?” Ace asks, raising an eyebrow. “So you wouldn't mind if I picked the place for dinner tonight?" he teases, only to realize something. “Uh… we're still on for that, right?”

“I hope so,” Felix says, smiling bashfully.

"Good, just checking!" Ace grins. "Well, since you're not picky… how about a Mexican place? What about sushi? Or an oyster bar?”

Predictably, Felix cringes at his suggestions.

“I'm… not great with spices or raw fish,” Felix admits.

“Or?” Ace pushes.

“Steak, shrimp, mushrooms, tofu, kebab, or greasy food in general,” Felix lists and Ace tries not to look too confused at how someone can so nonchalantly rule out entire food groups.

“What about Italian?” Ace asks.

“I don't like pizza, either,” Felix says apologetically.

“I'm not taking you to a pizza place for a first date!" Ace protests, while simultaneously trying to figure out how someone can not like pizza. "I was wondering how you feel about pasta or risotto?”

“That…” Felix considers. “Actually sounds nice.”

“Italian it is!” Ace grins victoriously. “I'll find a nice restaurant, just leave it to me.”

“Alright,” Felix says with a small smile.

“Now…” Ace says, realizing he's been running his mouth instead of actually eating. “Excuse me while I stuff my mouth with bacon pancakes.”

Felix huffs out a quiet laugh before following his example.

They eat in silence, or as much relative silence as a bustling dining hall allows. Ace does his best to not eat like a pig, feeling Felix’s stare on him as the other sneaks glances. After not having had any food for 24 hours, Ace is kind of surprised he didn't pass out in the parking lot, especially after the bright idea to have a few drinks on an empty stomach.

“So, how…” Ace trails off mid-sentence as he suddenly notices a couple of pigtails sticking up right beside him, narrowly missing the kid’s head when he reaches for his coffee.

“Good morning!” the kid, a little girl, beams up at him.

“Uh, hey there,” Ace says, a little taken aback at why this random child is approaching him.

“Hello,” Felix jumps into the conversation, getting the girl’s attention. “We meet again.”

Ace shoots Felix a weird look; does he know the kid?

“Did you remember to give him your number?” the girl asks Felix, tilting her head in curiosity.

A grin spreads over Ace’s face in realization, while Felix only clears his throat self-consciously. Ace didn’t really pay much attention to their company in the elevator last night, but the girl clearly remembers them.

“He did, yeah,” Ace says, shooting Felix a smug look over the table.

“Good,” the girl huffs, before turning back to Felix. “You need to stop being so forgetful, mister!” she accuses, hands on her hips.

Ace bites his lip to stop from chuckling as Felix flounders for an excuse to this sassy eight-year-old.

“You’re right,” Felix settles on. “It was silly of me, I’ll try to do better.”

While Felix is talking, the kid seems to get distracted, standing up on her tiptoes to peer into Felix’s now empty cereal bowl.

“What did you eat?” the girl asks, like a typical nosey kid.

“I had some yogurt with muesli,” Felix explains, way more patient than Ace would be in his situation.

“Do you like Froot Loops?” the kid asks.

As Felix calmly explains that the cereal in question isn’t his favorite, Ace starts discreetly scanning the room for the girl’s mother. He tolerates kids just fine, but he’d rather not have one ruin his unofficial date with Felix. Hopefully, the girl isn’t lost or something—

“There you are!” a woman appears from the crowd and gives the kid an exasperated look, Ace distantly recognizing her from the elevator last night.

“Hi mom!” the girl interrupts her cereal debate with Felix to greet the woman.

“I’m so sorry, I swear she was right behind me a second ago—” the woman glances at Ace and Felix apologetically, steering her daughter away with a hand on her small shoulders.

“No worries,” Ace defuses with a smile. “Kids, huh?”

“Always getting into trouble,” the woman agrees with a sigh, grabbing the girl’s hand. “Come on now, let’s go back to our table.”

“Bye, misters!” the girl calls.

“Goodbye,” Felix offers, and even Ace forces a smile and wave as the pair disappear into the rush of the dining hall.

“So, you got any kids?” Ace asks, having noticed how patient Felix was with the girl.

“No, I… maybe in another life,” Felix says, sounding melancholy, and Ace realizes there's probably more to that story. “Um. You?” Felix asks, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

“Nah,” Ace says. “I have a niece, though. She's a real demon. Great kid.”

“That sounds accurate,” Felix says, smiling. And somehow, Ace gets the overwhelming feeling Felix would be a great dad. “At least she has an interesting uncle.”

“Oh, you don't know the half of it!” Ace grins, taking the opportunity to tell Felix about some of his more memorable moments with his niece.

All too soon, they finish the last of their breakfasts and Ace offers to walk Felix to his room.

“Thanks for the company,” Ace says when they’re coming up to Felix’s door.

“You as well,” Felix says.

“See you tonight?”

“I'll call you,” Felix promises. “I should be available around five."

“Can't wait,” Ace grins.

Felix turns to his door, but then almost instantly whips back around to face Ace. His gaze flicks obviously to Ace's lips as he swallows.

“I have an hour before I need to leave for my meeting,” Felix says. “If you want…”

Ace's gut flutters at the implications, but then he remembers he has things to do. Though he'd much rather make out with Felix than go find a fence or shady pawn shop that will buy his shit, now is not the time.

“Sorry babe, I've got some errands to run,” Ace says good-naturedly, pretending not to see how Felix deflates in disappointment.

“I see,” Felix says.

“I'll make it up to you later,” Ace promises.

“It's okay, I should prepare for my presentation anyway,” Felix says, and upon the mention of his work, instantly seems more tense.

“Well, good luck with your work thingy. I'll be waiting to hear from you!” Ace says with fake cheer.

“Right,” Felix says, reaching for his door. “See you later.”

When the door closes in front of his face, Ace can practically feel the anxiety radiating from within the room. Ace really has his hands full, if he's going to get the guy to relax and forget about his work like he promised.

In the next thirty minutes, Ace ends up turning his own hotel room upside down while he scours it for valuables. He finds the watch he was looking for, as well as an earring behind the headboard, and some spare poker chips in one of his jacket's pockets.

He can’t help but smirk as he runs his fingers over the poker chips; it looks like destiny is trying to point him in the direction of the casino after all. And who is he to deny fate? After all, it's what brought him this far.

Ace thinks back to a couple months ago, where he—or well, his alias, Diego Sanchez—had still been living a somewhat stable life. Over the course of a year, he’d managed to pick up a few part-time jobs to fund poker tournaments and talk himself into more than a couple of loans. But as with most things, Ace had gotten too cocky, and his associates had figured out he wouldn’t be able to pay back the debts he owed.

At this point, uprooting his life and starting over was something Ace was very familiar with. For the last few weeks, he’d been motel-hopping across the country, having shaken the debt collectors off his trail while he tried to figure out the next place to settle down—at least for a little while.

Meeting Felix was just the kind of morale boost he needed right now. Even as Ace opens his wallet and finds a whopping two dollars among the handful of stolen credit cards, he knows he’s going to be okay.

He grabs his things and throws on a blazer along with shades and a hat; even if he should be safe, it doesn't hurt to protect his identity.

Finally, he heads out into the city, with an agenda of restaurant, pawn shop, and casino.

[galaxythreads]

Suggestions on how to improve fanfic writing:

I was talking with @angelfishofthelord recently (not that recent, time is a concept that escapes our collective grasp) and I jokingly suggested that I make this post. I am in the middle of an insomnia night, so. Here be us.

Characters use the same nicknames and phrases inside their head as speaking. This doesn’t necessarily mean they’re sharing the humor they’re speaking. I.g.: For SPN, I see a lot of people write Dean as a little careless in his POVs, because that’s just how he portrays himself, but Dean, I think, while having a dark sense of humor, isn’t actually very funny in his head. Same goes for MCU and Tony Stark. Funny characters does not always equal happy head space. :)

Nicknames--this used to bother me to no end, because nicknames were never something in my family, and people shortening down the names felt wrong. But you nickname what you love. If someone has given a nickname (and not in mockery) to a character, chances are, they call them that in their head. Like in MCU Clint calling Natasha "Nat", or SPN Dean and Sam calling Cas "Cas" however, with that said, unless the nickname is self chosen, most people will use their full name when narrating. Castiel, Natasha, etc.

Headcanons! This is going to sound a little backwards, but headcanons have always helped me sort between characters. I know that some fic authors are very against headcanons, but to me, you HAVE to make these characters and their world your own, at least a little. You need to understand how their brain functions, and headcanons are a wonderful, wonderful way to do that. So long as you can conceivably fit them into canon, I think you’re good. One of the ones I have about SPN Cas is that he doesn’t actually give off body heat, so he’s constantly room temperature. It’s a detail for people that’s not Cas’s POV to notice. So getting some headcanons like that will help differentiate between POVs because it’s different things for characters to acknowledge.

Mimic writing that you admire. (And ask yourself WHY you like it) I really, really love the way that TFW/avengers team is portrayed in some stories, in others, I’m like “meh.” Write to please yourself, first and foremost, on how to read these characters thoughts. Those who agree with you will flock to be your audience, and they’re who matter.

Language/word choice is really important for POV change. Again, people talk like how they think.

POV change? Treat the character whose POV it is like they are THE most important person in existence. Their reactions get a front seat. Their five senses are your concern. What they notice about a character may not be true, but it's what they notice. They are human, not omniscient, ergo, they'll get things wrong. Even if the story is written with a completely different character in mind, this character is still the most important. POV's time to think, talk, panic, angst, express, etc. That chapter was about how they felt. That’s why sometimes, even if I really do want them to talk or something, a character might think “please don’t say xyz” because THEY don’t want that, and how I feel as an author isn’t relevant here. Remembering that they’re human, and need time to process/react to things is huge.

Practice, practice, practice. It does get easier with time, and effort. I promise. All of you would laugh at my first few weeks of diving into fandoms. That stuff is garbage.

Conscious stream of thought is generally the best way to engage readers, and the most enjoyable. This is how we immerse ourselves into the story. We become a part of it because we follow their thinking. It is always ideal to start where you are the most comfortable, whether that's 3rd omniscient, 2nd person, etc, but, in my opinion, you don't get that true "click" with the characters until you've conscious stream of thought them.

Research. Lots of research. Don't know how long battieres could last in 2002? Look it up. Don't know how to do stitches? Google it. Try to avoid making things up.

Look guys. Everyone understands that you are most likely NOT a doctor or have any semblance of a medical degree. This is fiction. Research what you can, and move forward carefully or vague it out with the rest. The worst that can happen is someone correcting information you got wrong.

Please, please, please stay within the range of human limitation. (Or whatever creature/being you are writing for) You can't lose more than five pints of blood. You CAN die from pain. Infection spreads quickly. I'm sorry. I just. Have read so many fics from newbie writers who push their characters past extremes that is almost impossible. You want to hurt them that bad, break a bone or something. Just. Please try to be realistic. (Don't misunderstand here, I love me some well-done whump.)

Again with the "you are not a professional thing." Those diagnosed with mental illnesses know that you may not be writing from true experience. This is okay. But please, please do not avoid using any words or phrases common with the illness as you try to "vaguely" write it. The more authentic you are, the less likely you will offend someone. Look. I would be so frustrated if someone tried to write about an ED and just... Avoided words like "starve" "binge" and "hungry" because they didn't want to trigger me. Like. Sweeties, I appreciate the thought, I do, but it's more frustrating that you can't even SAY it than actually putting it into your writing. So. Please just. If you're going to write about a mental illness, do so with the intent to WRITE it, not skirt around the bush.

With that, if you are not diagnosed with the mental illness your writing for (or suspect that you have some form of it) that's okay! Google symptoms to get a basic idea, and search for first hand accounts. People's experience is a lot different than the definition. For example, some of the most hilarious people I know are severally depressed, and Google will just tell you they are sad.

Write write and write. You are building a skill. You have to practice that skill frequently.

Do not be afraid to ask for feedback. Betas are wonderful. Asking for advice is wonderful. Being too shy and afraid of criticism for asking for help is perfectly okay. (Hello fellow traveler)

If your search history doesn't have you being watched by government organizations in the next few months, you aren't researching enough. ;)

Take your time. Quality over quantity. Do NOT conform to the update fairy that demands updates frequently. Look. I love my readers. I do. But you HAVE to take your time to finish things in order for them to be worth reading. If this is six hours or six years, that's that.

Do not give everything away. Stop answering questions. We keep reading because we have unanswered questions. Anticipation = good. Knowing everything at once: bad.

Do not put in funny for the sake of funny.

Insults should be insulting, not make people want to cringe and duck their heads.

Dialog should serve as people communicating... Like actual people.

Siblings (unless otherwise said so by canon) DO NOT address each other as "bro" and "sis"

Not a native English speaker? Cool. Natives would love to help you learn their language. :) English grammar sucks.

Analogies should make sense. They should flow smoothly into the writing. If they pop out, you've lost the attention of your writers.

please, please don't glorify rape, racism, homophobia, mental illness shaming/glorification, abuse, sexism, and other crappy things. Thanks. People came for a story, not to get their souls crushed.

[sahbibabe]

Hello! Hope you're having a wonderful day. I have a request, if that's okay with you. Can I have a soulmate AU 1#? The one about the craving? With Rufus? I was thinking, Rufus with a poor soulmate who craves the expensive foods he eats but doesn't have the money to buy them and sometimes doesn't even know what she's craving because it probably doesn't exist where she lives. I'm sorry if it's too detailed. It's okay if you don't want to do it. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Here you go! I hope you enjoy! Tell me if you liked it and if not, what I can improve on! Thanks for requesting, hon! ♡

THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENED, you were sitting in Seventh Heaven and trying to ignore the excited chatter and boisterous energy around you. You had just ordered what would be your meal for the night and the next morning─it was all you could afford, given your meager salary as a scrap collector. Tifa had given you a hefty discount, since you helped her out a lot by finding spare parts and fitting them to the building when she needed it, but you sometimes suspected it was out of pity.

     Your dinner─a plate consisting of two pork chops, rice, and a small salad─had cost you twenty gil. In the eyes of some, that was cheap, practically a penny out of their pockets; but for you, that was half your salary gone, and you rationed out the rest through cheaply packaged ramen that ran for one gil at the market. You weren't very healthy as a result, but Tifa did her best to meet at least some of your body's nutritional requirements with what you could afford to buy. She had even slipped you a free slice of pie and a beer, said it was on her for helping out with watching Marlene, and disappeared before you could argue.

      When you couldn't afford even ramen, you bought food replacement tablets. They were cheaper than even those packets of noodles, could be gotten anywhere, and worked well enough to keep your appetite low as long as you didn't burn off too many calories working. Compared to you, Tifa and her group were well off, and they bought more food than they could handle. They didn't even box the rest up; Tifa would, though, and stow it away for later for them. It made you angry, and a little jealous.

       So when you had gotten the barest sip of your beer and tasted the most exquisite flavors you had ever been privy to in your entire life, you felt your mind go white trying to catch up with it. You had never tasted this before, whatever it was─it was strong, and tasted like pizza smelled, but it was… off, more potent.

       Your sister, before she married and moved topside, had told you about this; that people, when they were a certain age, tasted what their soulmate was eating. She also had said sometimes people have threads, others have telepathic thoughts, and even names on their arms. There was no real rhyme or reason to it, she told you, but it helped narrow down the selection pool to general salaries. Whatever that meant.

       The taste still lingering in your mouth, you looked down at your pork chops in disappointment, knowing you would not get the same satisfaction out of your food. You ate with a mechanical slowness, forcing yourself to appreciate what you got and to savor it. The beer and pie was only a little satisfying, mostly to your sweet tooth, but as you were walking to the bar to pay Tifa, the taste changed. Your soulmate was taking dessert, it seemed, because all you could taste was the cloying sweetness of strawberries and sugar, something tart or somewhat bitter.

       Your stomach felt very, very empty.

       You paid Tifa and she rung up your receipt.

      "How was the pie?" She asked, her eyes bright. Keen on conversation. "Did you like it? You were pretty slow tonight."

       "I'm sorry." You took the receipt from her and stuffed it down your bra with a sigh, too lazy to flip open the button lapel at your breast. "I just got my first… soulmate taste thing. Whatever you call it. I wish I could have enjoyed it more, to be honest."

      "Really?" Tifa motioned for you to sit down. Clearly you weren't going anywhere until she got all of the details out of you, haven't experienced it herself yet. "Tell me all about it and I won't get offended."

       "I'll take that," you laughed. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably, tasting the delicious dessert your soulmate was having but confused when nothing came down. "I don't know about the main course, but the dessert had fresh strawberries… I remember those from when my mom would steal them from up topside. Sugar. Something bitter, but with its own sweetness. I've only ever eaten ramen and your food my whole life so I can't say what it was."

       You hadn't noticed that Cloud had taken a seat one over from you until he spoke.

       "That sounds like the Soireé up top." When you blinked at the long absent merc with confusion, he elaborated grudgingly,"A lot of Shinra execs would eat it. It's a dessert. Strawberries and blueberries. I overheard a conversation about it. Sounds like what you were describing."

       "Oh, so they must have money, then, to eat topside," Tifa gasped. "I wonder who it could be!"

       "I don't know." You shrugged and rubbed your stomach, grimacing at the twang of pain. "Well, I'll head on home now. Thanks for the pie, Tifa. Just call if you need anything."

        "Sure thing, [Name]! Get home safe."

       For the next five years, you suffered with your soulmate's eating habits, and over time, you got good at determining when they ate. Their favorite food seemed to be some kind of soup that had very little flavor, but their palette was large and vast. They ate three times a day, ate a snack inbetween, or drank some gods awful concoction of chocolate and bitter powder that you couldn't stand and took days to get out of your mouth.

       In those five years, you had gone from lowly scrap collector to the illustrious Madame M's secretary and student. She boarded you and fed you extremely better food than you had ever eaten before, supplied you with a far more generous salary because she liked you and treated you like a daughter, and even helped you get healthy and into physical shape.

       You could massage someone's hand like nobody's business, or even do the poor man's massage, but what you really specialized in was a unique method of acupuncture that stimulated relaxation and blood flow. Madame M had deemed you successful enough to take your own clients, but refused to let you take hers; you had to gather your own.

      So topside you went, clothed in traditional garb as she had told you, with your hair pinned up and decorated with jewels from Madame M's prized collection. She had given them to you with a proud smile, along with some rather serious looking adoption papers that would allow her to become your official mother. Even at twenty-nine years old you had cried like a baby and hugged her. She didn't even tut like she normally would and hug you back.

       But as soon as you were topside, you couldn't resist it.

      You tracked down the restaurant that sold the Soireé.

      +

      When Rufus woke up tasting strawberries and blueberries in his mouth, he sat ramrod straight in his chair. At his feet, Darkstar whined and nudged his knee, but he ignored it and focused more intently on the flavors playing on his tongue.

       It was the unique taste of a Soireé.

      Over the years, he had tasted many things, things that he had looked up and found belonged to the slummers, then the middle class elite, or the oriental flavors of Wall Market cuisines. None of it had ever come close to touching the foods that he ate or the indulgences he found himself to favor, but this was the first time he had ever tasted something so expensive from his soulmate.

       A slummer no more, it seemed.

      He raised an eyebrow and hit a number on a rotary phone his father insisted on keeping. "Tseng."

       "Yes, Mister President?"

       "Find out who's eating a Soireé at Vallei Astra."

      Tseng was very, very quiet for a few moments. He wisely didn't question it. "Yes sir. I'll be back with you in a moment."

    +

       She sat on the back patio facing a genuine ray of sunshine. The manager had escorted him to her with a sickly smile, sweating bullets, and mumbled under his breath the entire time while he did. Rufus had quickly made him leave once he got sight of his target.

       She wore the oriental styles of the Wall Market; a black kimono, a dark purple obi, and brilliant red and white cranes and dragonflies sewn into it with a careful hand. A very expensive piece of silk indeed. She wore true jewels in her hair, a far cry from a slummer's jewelry, and from behind, wore her hair in a high bun with some strands left to dangle around her shoulders.

        He had seen Madame M once, when she answered a personal call for his father. She had left the building in a rage, but he had heard her yelling at him when the massage had been finished. Her obi har been untied when she left. Rufus could only assume his father had been attempting to make her his mistress.

       This girl, her student, was bound to be a spitfire.

       He straightened his tie and stepped outside. A pair of cool, calm [color] eyes turned and regarded him, a plucked eyebrow raised, as if asking who dared to interrupt her dessert. Even sitting, she looked down her nose at him.

       Oh, yes, he would enjoy every part of this… Starting with those eyes.

[rieson]

@sanjis-simp submitted; Hi! Can I get a matchup for One Piece if you’re still open for them? Please and thank you! I’m 5’5 and am a plus size girl. Super pale with dyed black hair with straight bangs and hair to my shoulders. Personality wise I’m an infp or 6w5. I I’ve been told I’m kind but I’m also very opinionated especially about civil rights, politics, and how people are treated so I can come off bitchy to some people. I do curse a lot and will absolutely obsess over something until I learn all I can or until I get bored of it. I’m a big homebody never really go to parties or anything like that. I’d rather stay home and watch tv or read. Thanks again!

hello ! thank you so much for requesting love, i match you up with . . .

word count; 1,440

Donquixote Rosinante / Corazon !

Now, let me start with the usual height difference between you both; I'm sorry but you look like a dwarf standing next to your 293 cm boyfriend.

Like, an absolute DWARF. (Why is he so tall god dammit)

It's embarrassing but, he first met you when he stumbled down the stairs trying to deliver paperwork to Sengoku's office ─ you were coincidentally trying to go up the stairs so Rosinante ended up kissing your shoes.

If one were to ask 10 year old Rosinante where he would see himself 10 years in the future, the answer was probably going to be something he always wanted to do; "helping people" and NOT tripping down the stairs ─ face planting and possibly kissing someone's shoes right now.

"A-Am i dead..? Am i in heaven?" He mumbled groggily, looking up to see a blurry pale figure with dark hair, "Are you an angel...? P-Pretty ...Pretty angel" The words seemed to slip out of his mouth unconsciously, but it still made you blush.

You cleared your throat, blush still visibly apparent in your cheeks, and you handed out a hand for the stranger to take, "Are you okay? Here get up"

The stranger seemed to snap out of whatever daze they were in, finally processing what just happened.

His lips pursing, he stared at your hand ─ and stared at you ─ and back at your hand ─ and then back at you; you stare at him back.

His face visibly flushed, he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly; before deciding to close it and avert his gaze to the floor that seems oh so interesting now.

"I..Uh....Are you gonna get up? You looked like you were in a hurry" You spoke out; voice so gentle yet it was clear that you held alot of confidence.

The stranger finally deciding that the floor wasn't interesting after all, looked up at you with soft hazel brown eyes, and accepted your hand.

You pulled him up; startling him as if he didn't expect to get pulled up, and he stumbled yet again ─ but this time, he was stumbling forward.

Towards you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, stopping him from falling down again and possibly bringing you down with him.

To others, it looked like sexual harassment but honestly, the stranger just seems to be really clumsy.

Your whole body was dwarfed by his unusually tall, freaky height, making it a challenge to keep him stable but you did it anyways.

"Whoa! You okay?" A chuckle escapes your lips, "You're really clumsy"

The man flushes at your comment and nods hastily, and stands up as you unwrap your arms in his torso.

You got a good look at the man, he was tall. Like TALL tall, perhaps even more than 250 cm? You couldn't tell.

The man wore a white, short-sleeved shirt emblazoned with the Marine emblem; a simplified gull with the word "MARINE" underneath it, on the back; a blue neckerchief; dark blue trousers and above his shoulders wore a coat, "Justice" on the back. He wore the coat like it tends to be worn like a cape, draped over the shoulders with the arms not in the sleeves; indicating that he was indeed, an ensign.

His unruly blond hair seemed to go towards every direction, making it (if not) tangled.

The man finally spoke out, "Y-Yeah sorry about that.." his voice was a bit deep and husky.

"It's fine, you looked like you were in a rush" You answered kindly, crouching to gather his scattered papers he dropped.

He seemed to notice this and started to panick; arms flailing around.

"W-Wait! It's okay I can pick it up!" He sheepishly spoke out, finally taking a look at you and panicking more as he saw that you were a Rear-Admiral.

"No, No it's fine." As he was about to stop you, you were already done gathering the scattered papers, handing it to him with a smile.

"You're in a rush, aren't you? I understand, i also tend to get a bit clumsy and panicky when i wasnt in time." You chuckled.

"Y-Yeah! Thank you ...once again" He took the papers from you, and bowed.

"It's no problem! Please don't bow to me it's a bit awkward haha.." You nervously trail off.

"I- IM very sorry! I didn't mean to- I mean- I-"

"It's fine, it's fine ! You're going to Sengoku's office right ? Better be fast then" You gave him a wink.

The man blushes, "R-Right! My name's Rosinante ma'am" He gives you a shy smile.

You gave a smile back, "Chanae."

And that's practically how you two met; cliche yikes but it's fine !!!1!#!

You both kept accidentally crossing each-others paths and decided to atleast be friends because it was starting to get awkward with the short "hi's" and "how are you's"

As you got closer to Rosi, you found out that he was indeed, an extremely clumsy dork.

Its pretty comical actually, despite you hating the amount of bruises he gets from his clumsiness.

Rosinante grew up and up the ranks; finally reaching the marine commander rank.

While you, only going up to Vice-admiral, just like garp.

You've been offered the title 'Admiral' quite often but you declined, not wanting such a heavy title to be put on your shoulder.

Rosinante was disappointed to say the least but he was supportive with your decision.

Over the past few years of doing missions with you, Rosinante gained a not so small crush on you.

Scratch that, he mf loved you.

He wanted to confess how he felt to you; even if you dont return the feeling back ─ he can relax knowing he's confessed already.

Hence, that's why he's outside of your office, bouquet in hand, as he thinks of a thousand scenarios that would happen when he knocked the door to your office.

Taking a deep breath, Rosi finally gathers enough courage to knock on your door.

And so he did.

Knock.

Knock.

A door creaking could be heard, your head peeked out of the door, face visibly displaying confusion.

"Uh- Hello Chan!"

"Rosi..? What are you doing?" You narrowed your eyes at the suspiciously acting 9 foot tall man.

"Uh..I....I wanted to tell you that I like you!- I-Uh- M-More as a friend..And i was hoping if I could take you out on a d-date...?" He trails off softly, his gaze glued on the floor, face flushed.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, flushing lightly before shrugging, your mouth forming a smile unsconiously "Sure!"

You both took the relationship slowly; not wanting to rush and make one another uncomfortable.

You and Rosi has alot of things in common; including civil rights.

Rosinante was raised to not be like other celestial dragons; he was truly kind.

And you wanted to make sure people were treated how you think is right.

You both hate celestial dragons; you more than Rosi.

Often, when someone gets offended by you cursing your mouth off, Rosi will usually be the one who will apologize profusely while you continue throwing profanities at the celestials.

Rosi also admired your hunger in knowledge; he knows a bit but he isn't as extreme as you.

Rosi HAS to drags you to sleep sometimes otherwise, you'll loose your sleep because you were focusing on learning too much.

Rosi doesn't like to go on alot of parties either, he instead just likes to be alone with you; either cuddling you or watching you read with a lovestruck gaze.

He absolutely loves the fact that you're plus size! He doesn't care what other people thinks, it makes you supper huggable and Rosi loves it.

Likes to shower you with kisses everywhere. Literally, everywhere !!

He can and will send death glares at disrespectful men that keeps checking you out; you don't need to worry about creepy men from now on. (Rosi drinks his respect women juice !! )

Both marines, you don't have much freetime so Rosi usually buys a dozen of books to give you whenever he sees one that he thinks you'll like; it's his way to remind you that he loves you and also because he loves the way your eyes shine everytime you learn something new.

If you're both not busy though, he'll take you out on nice picnic dates !!

You tried doing a pottery date but that ended up horribly as he kept accidentally smashing his creations and kept slipping on the clay.

Rosinante absolutely adores you and your flaws; he forever will and no one could ever replace you ─ same goes to you for him.

[ Runups : Sabo )If Rosinante doesn't pair well with you.) ]

i...i think i went too far ?? i'm sorry i just love this dork alot.

sorry if Rosinante isn't the most compatible with you, although this is only my take on who would balance well with you.

note; not proofread ! sorry for any grammatical errors.

[robronvalentineexchange]

Operation Idiots

for @like-the-first-time-i-kissed-you

There was pink and red everywhere. Robert looked in the village. David’s shop was the worst offender, and he felt blinded by it all. The pink cards, the pink flowers, pink colored crisp packages and even the beer cans in the refrigerators seemed to not have been saved from the Valentine’s take over. He shook his head and wondered vaguely if Valentine’s Day as a holiday had taken over the world while he was in prison? He frowned at the flower display and tried to push the holiday out of his mind, or rather the person it made him think about.  

He’d told Vic he’d do the shopping – needing to give her something back for letting him say with her until he figured out a flat for himself. It was hard going because he wanted to be in Emmerdale. He needed to stay close to his family. He’d missed them more deeply than he expected to while he was in prison and being home. It felt amazing to back in his sister’s life, to know his nephew — even Diane wasn’t annoying him to often. He supposed eventually that might fade, but he missed her.

Robert needed them. All of them. But most of all he needed Seb. The thought of him made all the Valentine’s Day decoration fade away. He felt a rush of happiness that made him feel like he was buzzing from the inside. Seb was spectacular. He was perfect. He was too old, twelve, and Robert lost far too much time. But they were getting along, somehow, his son didn’t hate him for leaving him — it’d been his worst nightmare over the years. But after a few hard questions, Seb had hugged him and cried and told him he was happy Robert was home.  

He wasn’t sure if his homecoming would’ve gone so easily if Seb hadn’t accepted him, but he did, so Robert pushed down the what-ifs and found it easier to ignore all the cheery pink around him.  He smiled at the thought of his son and how amazing he was —

But the real reason for that popped up in his mind, and he saw himself looking at a card that was taped to the wall as decoration. To My Husband on its cover and he frowned.

Aaron.

Only they weren’t husbands, not anymore. Robert had ended it with the clink of his ring on a white table. He watched Aaron take it, not realizing what was happening and hated himself more than he ever had before. But it was the past now, and he needed to focus on the present. He told himself it wasn’t like they’d ever celebrated Valentine’s Day themselves when they were together. He remembered mocking it more than anything, shaking their heads at the fuss and people wasting their money. Then using it as an excuse to make it an early night. As if they never found on any given day to do the same.

Memories of them in bed rose up, and he couldn’t stop the smile. The truth was he spent a lot of hours thinking about them to simply stay sane in prison. There were lists and rankings, and maybe it was mad, but it’d kept his alive. It wasn’t just sex, of course, it was laughter and conversations. It was Aaron. It’d kept him alive somehow. Even when the thought of Aaron was a wound in his heart instead. Missing him, letting him go, it was a double-edged blade — thinking about him saved him, but it’d also hurt too.

He smacked a hot pink balloon with a bit too much heft as he passed it and tried to bury down the memories. He needed to let him go — again. Always. He was out now, and he couldn’t use Aaron like this any longer. They were over, and it wasn’t going to change. He’d shoved Aaron away without looking back years ago, and it’d worked. Aaron moved on with a life without Robert in it, and now there was too much time and distance.  

And Aaron had moved on.

At least he wasn’t married.

Though he was living with someone. Tim or Jim, or was Ian? Robert shook his head and hated eventually he’d learn the man’s name. The man he had to accept had a life with Aaron. But, no all that mattered was the man was good to Seb, that he accepted his son and wasn’t going to hurt him. And he knew Aaron would never put up with that, so there was nothing to worry about — his son was safe and happy. His son was being raised by Aaron, and Aaron was allowing Robert to take part in it. Somehow despite all the time and distance between them.  

He was back to thinking about his son About the things he’d learned. How he was tall for his age, how he’d inherited the Sugden freckles, and somehow he was still more of a redhead than a blonde. Robert grinned as he thought about bright and precocious Seb was, but it grew wider at the fact his son scowled a bit. It made him look so much like Aaron that it hurt a bit. It also made relief flood him that his son had Aaron in him, that he was being raised by Aaron because Robert had always wanted it. He’d always thought his son’s best interests would be under Aaron’s watchful eye.

He always knew Aaron would be the perfect dad.

He frowned as he realized he hadn’t managed to get Aaron out of his mind at all. And on cue, the bell to the shop rang and Robert looked up and in came the two most important people in his life.  He felt a bit blinded by the two of them, there together. Both of them smiling at him like they were glad to see him. Aaron’s smile seemed bright, and their eyes met, and Robert felt that familiar pull he always felt around Aaron. He wished he could give into it, wished all of this was more than just a hello, but he felt thankful Aaron seemed to have met his promise about them being mates.  

“Hi ya,” Aaron said after a moment with a shake of his head, like he was rude forgetting.  

Robert just shrugged at him and returned the greeting.

Seb made an odd snorting sort of noise, which made Robert look at him, and a rush of extreme affection rolled through him. He suddenly he realized he did have a reason to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was the perfect excuse to find another way to spoil Seb rotten — and he meant too, he meant to show Seb he loved him in any way he could possibly manage.  

“Hey, kiddo,” he said.

“That’s a lot of food,” Seb said, pointing to his overly full cart of food.

“Your Aunt Vic’s fridge is empty,” Robert laughed. “She’s gotten a bit caught up with work lately…”

“Yeah… Valentine’s rush, mum, calls it,” Aaron laughed. “It’s like people do test runs at the Woolpack.”

“Test runs, for what dropping a ring in the wine glass?” Robert rolled his eyes.

Aaron laughed. “Who would propose at the Woolpack? Daft.”

“What’re you gonna…” he sighed and instantly regretted the question.

“What?” Aaron prodded.

“Doing for…” Robert shrugged and looked at David’s gaudy display of red and pink flowers.

“Oh…uh,” Aaron mumbled and looked down at his feet.

Robert braced himself to hear Aaron was going away with his boyfriend or something.

“Tim and Da, they broke up.” Seb nearly shouted it, and Robert stared at his son. Seb beamed at him. “Tim and Da, they broke up.”

“Oh….” Robert bit the inside of his cheek because he couldn’t smile, he couldn’t assume this was good news. It really wasn't… Aaron had been living with this man.  

“Yeah… it wasn't… it just wasn’t going to work out.”

Robert opened his mouth to attempt to tell Aaron he was sorry to hear it when his son spoke over him.

“Maybe Dad can come over Friday,”  

“Friday?” the two of them said in unison, given it was Wednesday.  

“Valentine’s Day,” Seb announced like it wasn’t anything.

He shook his head and tried not to notice that Aaron was doing the same — it shouldn’t hurt, and he was saying no too, obviously. But he needed to avoid Aaron’s face, and his own felt hot, and he wished they could spend the day together, but they just couldn’t do that…

They couldn’t.  

But he had another idea. “How about you and I do something on Valentine’s Day, Seb?”

“I’m your son,” he muttered.

“Exactly and I love ya… So, we could make a special day of it, right? If your Dad’s okay with it?”

“Yeah, it’s a great idea. What do you say, Seb?”

Seb looked from Aaron to Robert and back again with an odd expression on his face. Robert was just learning how to read his son, and he wasn’t all sure what it was he was witnessing, and he was afraid Seb was about to say no, that he didn’t want to spend time with him and he wondered if he could brace for that hurt.

“Seb…” Aaron said, his voice gruff.

“Okay, yeah, of course,” Seb said quickly, and he hugged Robert too. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He pulled away from Robert and looked, Aaron. “I saw Isaac was up at the swings can I go, Da?”

“Of course,” Aaron said, and Seb rushed off quickly.

“It isn’t weird, is it?” Robert asked after a beat.

“What?”

“Father and son on Valentine’s Day?”

“Bloody made-up holiday anyway, why not use it as an excuse to love on him?” Aaron shrugged. “Plus, he’s got your sweet tooth, so chocolate will win help in you continue to win him over.”

“Are you suggesting I’d bribe my son to like me?”

“Are you suggesting you wouldn’t?” Aaron’s eyes glinted.

“No,” Robert laughed, and it felt like they fell into a staring contest. Robert cleared his throat and asked another question he shouldn’t, but he was curious.  "What happened with…“

"Tim? It just wasn’t going to… It wasn’t going to work out…” Aaron cleared his throat. “It’s been coming.”

“Oh, yeah… I just didn’t…” He felt stupid and like he was making it all about him, or them when it probably wasn’t about him at all.

“It just wasn’t going to work out, we wanted different things…” Aaron said after a beat.  

“I'm…” he tried to say sorry, but it never formed on his tongue.

They stood there again, and Robert started to wonder if they were standing to close when Aaron broke the silence again. “So…A pint later?”

Robert smiled with relief, and he felt more grounded again. The truth was they’d decided to be mates. They’d avoided each other when he first got back. They’d yelled at each other, and then Robert had broken down and apologized. Aaron revealed he’d forgiven him years ago…

They got to a good place. It was for Seb, really, Robert thought because they couldn’t raise him together as strangers. And Aaron offered to do this to make them equal in their son’s life, and Robert felt grateful. The truth was Aaron held the cards, he was the one who was raising their son, and Robert wasn’t going to take away that power. But Aaron wanted them to do it together, he promised Robert they’d figure out a way and asked for them to mates.

So they were mates.

And they went for a pint.

Nearly every day.

“Yeah, meet ya there, usual time?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great…” He said. “I better…” He raised up his groceries.

“Right… I should get what I came in for…” Aaron looked around the shop.

Yet they stood there together, both of them pointedly not looking at the other before they cleared their throats and went their separate ways. As Robert turned, he caught a glimpse of Seb through the window and smiled at him, happy to see him but a bit curious why he was looking into the store. Seb blinked, then smiled and waved at him before turning around and heading toward the playground.  

Robert shrugged, shook his head, and stuck his groceries down for the kid currently working for David to scan.

One Day Later

Seb sighed where he sat at the bar of the Woolpack, his maths homework spread out in front of him. He was nearly done, he could’ve been done ages ago, but he kept getting distracted. But how STUPID his Dads were. They were first-class idiots. Seb had never seen anyone or anything more ridiculous than the two of them. He really wondered how they could be so monumentally idiotic?

He turned back to his maths, but he couldn’t focus, so he ended up looking at his Dads again and sighed again. Because they looked happy, they looked more than happy, really, and Seb was sick and tired of them ignoring the fact that they only felt that way together.

He could see it. They both smiled the entire time, they’d see each other, and their faces would light up, and they’d talk, and the smiles would be wider and brighter. They reached his Da’s eyes, and he had never seen his Da smile like that and all his clearest memories his Da was there… and he was sometimes a sulky bloke, but so was Seb — so what, but he’d thought he’d seen his Da happy before. He thought Tim had made his Da happy, but then he’d seen his Dad make his Da laugh…

And yeah, there was no comparing it.

His Da was the happiest Seb ever seen him since his dad came home — Seb was too, and he knew his Dad was because he told Seb more than once that being in his life again was the happiest he’d been in a long time. But he was still sad when his Da wasn’t around, and his Da was downright moody and weird when his Dad wasn’t around.

But they kept saying they were just mates. Seb shook his head because they didn’t look like mates. And they looked way more happy and in love than Da had ever looked with Tim. And Tim had been gone for weeks now, weeks, and he definitely wasn’t coming back…

So wasn’t his Da saying anything to his Dad about them.

They loved each other, you’d need to live under a rock to not know it.

How did they not know it? It seemed the only explanation, the two of them were being idiots who couldn’t see the truth. They belonged together. Seb was starting to believe he was the one who would have to do something about it. If they wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day together — he’d just have to figure out how to make it happen.

~~~

He decided Leyla Harding-Cavanaugh was his only hope for two very important reasons. The first was a conversation he’d overheard between her and Tracy the night before…. It seemed he wasn’t the only one watching his Dads and wondering why they were being slow about admitting their feelings. She thought it would happen sooner rather than later. Seb had heard her use the word inevitable. So, they were in agreement that his Dads belonged together, and that made her a natural ally. Second. Her job was throwing Weddings. Soppy things were her specialty, so she would know exactly what he needed to do to get his Dads to stop being idiots.

So he walked into Take a Vow, carrying the big shoe box from under his bed and marched up to Leyla at her desk and spilled all the coins and paper bills of money he had onto it and announced himself.

“I need to hire you for advice,” he said.

Leyla blinked at him a bit and stared at the money. “What?”

“I need to hire you for advice,” he repeated.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

Then she was grinning. She leaned forward her eyes wide with interest. “Who is the lucky girl or boy you want to impress for Valentine’s Day?”

He screwed up his face in disgust. “Ew. It’s not about me.”

“It’s not?”

“No…gross.”

“I’m confused,” Leyla shook her head.

“It’s my Dads.”

“Oh…” She breathed it out like it solved all the questions in the universe.

“How do I get them to admit they should get back together?”  

She was back to blinking at him and he’d really never noticed how long her eyelashes were — they had to be fake, he leaned forward a bit to see if he could tell.

“Seb, I don’t think I can help you there.”

“No! You have too, it’s taking way too long and their all sad when they aren’t together.”

“Well… it is very complicated.”

“Is not,” he stood his ground. “They’re happier together. Da does this thing with his mouth I didn’t know he could, and my Dad gets bigger, like he’s less scared of everything since he’s out of prison. And they laugh, and they talk FOREVER and forget to drink their pints. They need to get back together, PLEEEEEASE.”

“Isn’t your dad with Tim?”

“They broke up like weeks ago….” Seb sighed, feeling frustrated.

Leyla’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes! And it’s Valentine’s Day, shouldn’t they get together then?”

“Well…”

“You have to help me make them see it’s for the best.”

“I don’t know what I can do, though… I don’t really disagree with you, always was a bit jealous of them really…. But it’s been a long time, and your dad, Robert, he just got out of prison.”

“It’s been months, he got out before my birthday.”

“Well… I mean short of knocking their heads together, I really don’t know…”

“Knocking their heads together, how would that work?”

“Not literally, locking them in a room or something until they really talk about things… but I mean, you can’t really do that, can you, Seb.”

“Lock them…” Seb’s brain felt warm, thoughts were forming, a plan was taking place. HE KNEW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO. “Thank you, Mrs. Harding-Cavanagh,” he shouted before running out of her shop.

“Seb, your money…” Leyla yelled.

“You earned it,” he yelled back just before the door closed and grinned madly.

Operation Idiots was in effect.

There were just a few details to iron out before Friday.

~~~

Later on Thursday

Robert glanced at the cheap watch on his wrist, and Aaron averted his eyes from it and tried not to think about the watch that used to live on his husb — no Robert’s wrist… Aaron sighed and wondered when he’d find the courage to return the watch to Robert now that he was out — he could give it to Seb himself someday. But the thought of even touching that watch brought up feelings and thoughts that were just best avoided.  

“Huh…it’s really late, Aaron.”

Aaron glanced at the pint he’d barely taken a sip from because they’d just kept talking all night. Not about much really, mostly Seb and some random subjects. It wasn’t like they’d ever had issues just talking, or getting along, or just being quiet together. It was all so simple, really, how easy it was to be Robert’s mate and just meet for a pint. "Is it?“

"Going on ten.”

Aaron’s eyes widened, and he looked around the bar. Seb was easy to find. He was at the corner of it by the door to the kitchen. His books were all shut, and he was sitting there and looking at them. At seeing Aaron look over, he immediately looked away like he’d been caught — that was weird. Or maybe he knew it was way past his bedtime. “I’ve gotta get Seb home…”

Robert nodded and moved to his feet. “Of course.”

Somehow though, Aaron and Seb found themselves walking with Robert. He and Seb were talking. Robert checking he’d done all his homework and listening to him talk about his assignments. Aaron felt a warmth in his chest at it all, Robert getting to hear about their kid’s day at school, and he swallowed over a lump in his throat at it all. It was nice, but it also unsettled him.  

They all came to a stop in front of Keepers.

“Well, here I am…” Robert said. “So, I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow, and we’ll spend the rest of the day together?” he asked Seb and Aaron wished he stop sounding so unsure.

“Of course, Dad, I want too,” Seb said, his tone reassuring and saying with it what Aaron wished he could find the words to say to Robert. He wanted Robert to see what he did, how mad their kid was about him. Seb loved Robert, he’d never stopped. Asked about him all the time, in a lot of ways, he’d kept Robert alive for Aaron in a way that didn’t burn — too much.  

Robert looked relieved and hugged Seb goodbye, running a hand over his head before standing up straighter. “Well, yeah, I’ll see ya, Aaron.”

“See ya…” Aaron echoed.

But they stood there, gazes locked for a good minute. Aaron searched for an excuse to keep talking, but there was none, and he almost thought Robert was doing that same. But then Robert shook his head a bit and turned around. And Aaron watched him walk away and go inside the cottage.

And Aaron felt an impulse to fly at the door, bang on it, and drag Robert home with him because he was remembering another February. A night where he stood exactly where he was standing now and shouted at Robert that they belonged together because it was the truth of them. Of him. It was something he knew in his bones, that Robert was it for him and no one else would ever compare.

He loved Robert.

He knew he loved Robert.

It was in the bones of him.

He’d broken up with Tim because with Robert back, he’d seen he’d been settling — again — and he knew he couldn’t do that to Tim. Tim deserved someone who could give him all of themselves. Aaron would never be able to do that with any other man but Robert.

Yet it didn’t mean he was letting Robert back into his heart, into his home, into his life…

Even though it was all forgiven.  

He’d forgiven Robert a long time ago for pushing him away. He’d always understood why even if he hadn’t been able to admit for the first year or so… But even so, when Robert arrived back in town that anger had risen up and he’d yelled, he’d yelled until his throat was hoarse. They’d cried, they’d both apologized but hearing Robert’s had given him clarity.

It truly was all forgiven.

But it was too late for them.

It’d been too long.

It was too risky.

All those things echoed and repeated in Aaron’s head, so he’d done the only thing he could think of and promised himself they’d be mates. Best mates, close mates… that’d they be friends. Because at the very least, he could get his best friend back because it was the truth. Somewhere during all their breakups and reunions, Robert had become his best friend, the one person who knew him with just a look and that he could talk to about anything.

The depth of how he’d just missed that alone was unspeakable.

So, they had a pint, every day, and talked about everything, talked about nothing — like today where they’d mocked Valentine’s Day again like they used too and talked about Seb and what he might like to do with Robert. Then they just talked about their son, because it was the easiest and both their favorite subject… But it’d been quiet too, or they’d spoken about nothing really, it’d just been good to sit together, to laugh together.

Aaron ignored the fact he’d ached to touch Robert the entire time, and now he pushed down the ached he felt to fly at Vic’s door, pound on it, and shout at Robert to come home.

“Da?” Seb’s voice broke through his thoughts.

And reminded him how terrifying his feelings where. Because it was terrifying. What if it all went wrong? Aaron wouldn’t be the only one hurt. He turned to Seb and smiled at him and ignored that it was a bit forced because he did ache for Robert. But their son was everything, to him and to Robert.

And they weren’t going to risk hurting him.

“Let’s get home,” Aaron said and started walking toward the Mill.

“Why can’t you come with us tomorrow.”

“It’d be good for you and your dad to have a day to yourselves, don’t you want too?”

“Of course, yeah, it’ll be fun, but…”

“What?”

“Couldn’t all of us just play some games and watch a movie at The Mill?”

“No,” Aaron shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Seb, I have to work tomorrow anyway, there is a big shipment, I will be stuck up there long after you get home from school. And this is important to your dad, all right. He likes to spoil the people he loves, and he’s got a lot of lost time to make up with you.”

Seb’s face went serious, and he nodded. “I get it, I guess, but I love him. He doesn’t have to spoil me.”

“I know, I think he might know that too, but remind him, alright…” Aaron frowned. “Sometimes, he doesn’t think he’s enough.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated. Come on, we’ve got to get you home, it’s past your bedtime, I don’t know how it got so late.”

Seb snorted.  

“What?”

“You don’t know how it got so late?” Seb was giving him a look.

Aaron blinked at him.

“Whatever,” Seb whined two seconds later.

“Seb?”

Seb sighed and yawned. “I’m just tired, I guess, since it’s so late, forget it.”

Aaron smiled at him, fondly and put his hands on his shoulders. He was getting so tall, he would be taller than him, and he wondered if he’d be taller than Robert or the same height as him. “Let’s get you home.”

“I just…”

“What Seb?”

“He never comes to the Mill, Dad… Unless you’re not there.”

“Seb,” Aaron sighed. “It’s just complicated.”

“Why?”

“The Mill is…” Aaron shook his head. “It’s better this way, alright.”

“Why?”

They weren’t purposely doing it, at least Aaron didn’t think they were. But it made sense, he thought. Them avoiding being together at the Mill. It’d been their home, and it’d been a happy home. Robert built it for them, and once they finally were truly together, nothing else between them and living together. It’d been the best days of Aaron’s life, and he looked back and knew he’d never been that happy before. And he only came close to be that happy again when he was with Robert — he knew it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.  

They couldn’t go back. Could they?

As they walked closer to it, Aaron realized he hadn’t allowed it to change much over the years. He could bring himself to completely de-Robert it. Things here and there changed but the soul of it… The soul of it was what Robert built.

For them.

Robert had been in the Mill a few times since he came home. And the space was loud around them… All the happy memories had echoed around them, and for Aaron, it brought back their dreams too. Seeing Robert in the Mill reminded him about their life together, how they’d wanted more children. He thought about them now, those children. Would they be boys or girls? Would they be more like Robert or him…  

“Da?” Seb sounded worried, and Aaron looked at him and knew they’d all be as brilliant as him. Suddenly he was missing children he never had and never would have…  

There was no blame, but that dream was broken.

“It’s just complicated, Seb,” Aaron repeated.

“I just… I like having you both around and…”

“You’ll always have the both of us, Seb,” Aaron interrupted him. “Always,  Robert’s not going anywhere. Never again.”

“I know that,” Seb sounded exasperated. “Do you?”

“What?”

“I know Dad’s staying. But I don’t think you’ve figured it out.” Seb stalked into the Mill.

Seb suddenly seemed older than his twelve years. Aaron had seen a fierceness in his eyes that showed he’d meant every word, but Aaron wasn’t at all sure he understood at all what Seb meant. He hurried into the Mill and caught him just before he went upstairs.

“Seb, I know your dad will never leave ya, again.”

“I’m not talking about me, Da,” Seb sounded even more frustrated. “I’m going to bed.”

All Aaron could do was shake his head.

Valentine’s Day

“So, you’re working?” it was the third time he doubled his check his dad planned to be at the scrapyard ALL DAY. But it was important to his plan that the day goes according to THE PLAN.

“I told you, big shipment coming in this morning, will be busy all day.”

“Right so, the shipment’s at…”

“Around noon… Seb, what’s this about?”

“Nothing,” he muttered and put a piece of toast in his mouth. But he felt his dad’s eyes on him. Seb knew he seemed suspicious, but it was hard to act calm about everything. This plan could change everything. This plan had to change everything, he thought as he stuffed more toast in his mouth and hoped Da would drop it.

He got lucky, and his dad went back to eating his own toast.

Seb started to smile as he chewed.

“Looking forward to your day with your Dad?” Aaron asked him, and it was the third or fourth time. He wasn’t the only one repeating questions.

“Yeah, of course. Still think it’s a dumb holiday,” he muttered, because it was dumb — unless he managed to get his Dads back together, then it might become his favorite holiday.  

“It’s important to your dad to treat ya, Seb.”

“And I’m gonna let him…” Seb grinned. “I mean, he tries too hard, but it’s nice…” He bit into the last piece of toast because he felt his eyes getting wet. The truth was he really did like spending time with his Dad. Anywhere and anyway, he didn’t really care.  His Da wasn’t the only one who had missed him.

The truth was before Dad came back, all of Seb’s memories about him were pretty blurry. But, he remembered a lot of sweets being given to him, and there were funny voices he’d make for the characters in all his favorite books. Seb remembered being held in strong arms and feeling safe. And he’d tried hang onto that memory the hardest after his mum died. He’d tried to hang onto all of them harder after she died, and wished he had clearer ones to hold on like he did of her.

But it got harder the older he was…

And now he had him back he knew again how safe his hugs felt and that his Dad loved him and how he smiled at hard he was always trying and how sometimes he asked too many questions and Seb didn’t really have all the answers. But his Dad wanted to know him, and he wanted to know his Dad too…

But he wanted him home more.

Being back in the village wasn’t enough.

Harry shouldn’t be the one getting to live with him.

Seb wanted his Dads together because that was going to make them happier, and it would make him happier too.

So, today his Dad wasn’t going to get to try to hard to show his love. No, today, his Dad was finally going to admit he wanted to spend the rest of his life with his Da again…

At least if Seb had any say in the matter.

“I love him, Da,” Seb said.

Aaron smiled at him at that, and the light in his eyes almost lit up as much as it did around his Dad. But it faded out quickly, and his father shook his head. “Yeah, yeah…he loves you.”

“Da?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you?” Seb asked as doubt about his plan creeped in out of nowhere.

“Do I what?”

“Love Dad?”

“Seb…” His voice sounded clogged up. “It’s complicated.”

Seb frowned. “That’s grown-up, for I don’t wanna lie to you.”

“It is not.”

“Then tell me the truth? You always say the truth is best.”

“Seb…”

“What?”

Aaron sighed and moved his chair closer to Seb. “Sometimes, love is complicated and when you’re older…”

“So, you do, love him,” Seb exclaimed because that was all he needed to know to be sure again.

“Yes….but.”

“I knew it,” Seb grinned, cutting his father’s disclaimer off. Seb was pretty sure it was just grown-up lies and silliness anyway. His doubt was gone, and he nodded to himself. He’d seen them together, he knew his Da’s smiles, and he knew only his Dad had the power to make him really happy.

He was definitely doing the right thing.

~~~

“No?” Robert scratched the back of his neck and tried not to feel out of sorts, but it was easy to feel thrown by Seb. He wanted them to get along, and he wanted to spend as much as time as he could with him. He knew he’d never get bored of him, he loved him so much — it hurt sometimes. And he’d lost so much time, and since deciding on spending Valentine’s Day with him, he’d been looking forward to it a lot.

But Seb seemed off, and now he was saying no to a movie, and Robert felt hurt, and he tried to shove it aside because it wasn’t about him. It was about his son. He took a deep breath and told himself it was just a no to seeing a movie. Maybe Seb had something else he wanted to do.  

“I forgot something in Da’s car,” Seb said as he finished off his chocolate donut. “It’s part of a maths project that’s due Monday.”

Robert frowned. “Was it assigned today, you haven’t mentioned it before?”

“No, I just forgot about it. But I thought Aunt Liv is always saying your good at maths and all. Can you help me with it today? Maybe we can do a movie later, with Da? Please, Dad?”

“Yeah, of course… I mean, I’m not going to let you not finish your homework… Seb, you should have brought this up sooner.”

Seb just shrugged at him, swallowed the donut, and grinned at him in a way that was a lot like looking into a mirror. It made Robert smile, but something about the shine in Seb’s eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  He chuckled a bit and told himself it was probably a warning that he was in for it with this kid – that this amazing kid was his and he was going to have his hands full. All he wanted was to be a good father, he could at least do all he could to get that right and be there for Seb.

Always.

“Alright, so you left it in your dad’s car?”

“Yeah, the backseat…”  

“Alright, I’ll call him,” he started to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“He’s probably outside, he’s at the scrapyard, said there was a shipment….” Seb hopped up from the table, “Let’s just drive up there.”

Robert nodded and felt thankful he had Vic’s car for the day, and soon enough, they’d climbed into it, and his son started texting. He frowned at that and elbowed him a bit.

“Who are you texting?”

“Belle… I thought since we’re heading that way, I’d walk over to see the pigs? Just making sure someone is home.”

“Okay…” Robert nodded. “You like pigs?”

“Oh yeah, and the cows and lambs at Isaac’s…it’s fun to play with them. Isaac doesn’t like too so much, says he gets stuck having to wake up early, and he gets smelly from things his mum makes him do. I like my chores better.”

Robert smiled. “I hated farming chores, myself.”

“You had chores like Isaac…”

“Yeah, I grew up on a farm like Butler’s…’ Robert smiled and started talking about his childhood, amazed at how easy it felt to talk about memories that use to cause only pain. But it was made easy by Seb’s smiles and simple questions and put everything into a different perspective.  

"Belle says I can come over.”

“Tell her, I’ll be there too…” Robert laughed as he pulled into the scrapyard, a flood of memories hitting him, and he gripped the wheel a bit tight at an onslaught of memories. He and Aaron had been through a lot, and the scrapyard had always been there through all the ups and all the downs. Robert had lost count of the times they’d locked the doors to the Portacabin – when they remembered too anyway.  

But now wasn’t the time for those memories, and he pushed it down for another memory to rise up. It was a bright memory and one of his favorites. He’d thought about it a lot over the years. I’d gotten him through a lot of hard times, and now he could share it with his son… He was back in his son’s life, and he could tell him about the amazing moment Aaron first held him.

“You know, the first time your dad held ya, was in that PortaCabin.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… You were a little terror, I was stressed out, and you were picking it up. Your dad, he held ya for me, and you calmed right down and wrapped him around your finger, I think…” Robert smiled. “I remembered thinking it looked ao right, you two, together…” he sniffed hard to fend off tears, the visceral memory surprising him a bit as he spoke. “I’m just so happy you’ve had him in your life Seb. There is no one who can love ya better than Aaron.”

“There’s you, too, Dad. You both love me loads,” Seb smiled.

“I’ll try.”

Seb beamed and in a blink he was out of the car.

“Seb…” Robert laughed and hurried after him. He felt weird about stepping into the PortaCabin. He’d been working out of Vic’s flat or Nicola’s house rather than up here. It’d felt wrong to encroach on Aaron’s spaces after so long… The first thing he noticed was that the desks had been shifted about a bit bit, but it was the same four walls. There was a slightly newer looking heater that it seemed to keep the room a bit of bearable temperature even in February in Yorkshire.  a

“Hi ya…” Aaron said, looking at the two of them with confusion. “I thought we decided…”  

Not to see each other today. Robert finished for him in his head, and they hadn’t spoken about it. It’d been a silent agreement, and Robert wasn’t totally certain why… Valentine’s Day wasn’t important to them, but it felt like… It felt like it might bring up all the things they both want to say, or the things they feel they can’t say. It just felt best to avoid it altogether.

After all, there was no them.

“Seb forgot about a maths project…” Robert said.

“He what?” Aaron looked at their son.

“Yeah…” Seb muttered. “Sorry… I left it in the car, can I have the keys?”

Aaron sighed and pulled his keys off the ring by the PortaCabin door. “Alright, go get it.”

Seb took the keys and grinned.

Robert felt his hair on his neck, go up again.

“Seb?” Aaron was saying Seb’s name in a parental tone and standing up.

Seb slammed the door shut behind him.

“Oi, no need to slam the…” Aaron shouted but stopped short as they heard the clang of keys and loud click. “Seb!”

Robert stared at the locked door and jumped when his cell phone rang. He grabbed at it and nodded. “It’s him,” he muttered as he answered it.

“Put me on speaker…”

Robert followed the order, mostly because he was too puzzled to do anything else. “Seb, open the door…” the both of them yelled.

“Welcome to Operation Idiots. It’s been FOREVER already, I can’t wait any longer. I’m tired of watching you be all happy together and then sad when you’re apart. I might be a kid, but it is obvious you belong together. I am tired of waiting. So, it is Valentine’s Day, so it’s the perfect time for you two to GET BACK TOGETHER. You’ll be alone, no one will interrupt and you can’t wuss out and leave cause I locked the door. I’ll be over at Wishing Well with the pigs and Belle, so don’t worry about me, I’m sorted.”

The line went dead.

“SEB,” Aaron shouted, and he pounded on the door. “SEB.”

Robert walked to the window and peered out. Sure enough, his son was skipping, his way toward Wishing Well. He shoved his phone into his jacket and suddenly wondered what the hell to do with his arms, legs, hell his entire body.

He was alone with Aaron for the foreseeable.

And the truth was they’d been meeting in public spaces for a reason.

Even if they never spoke it.

Aaron shouted Seb’s name one more time before just stopping. He seemed to just freeze facing the door and let out a long breath.  Then he turned around, and Robert forced himself to look at him.

Aaron looked as frazzled as he felt.

Somehow that allowed him to breathe.

Aaron moved next to him, both of them sitting a bit on the desk with less clutter on it. Aaron scraped his hands over his face and shook his head. “He’s…”

“Mine?” Robert offered with a laugh.

Aaron chuckled.

“Does he really have a maths project?” Robert asked.

“Probably not.”  

Robert laughed again.

Aaron sighed.

“Operation Idiots?” they spoke together, then laughed together, and Robert felt his heart hammer in his chest as he remembered every time he’d fondly called Aaron an idiot… Especially that day, during the last proposal when they’d jinxed each other and Aaron been mad, Robert tried to step on his turn to propose…

It felt so long ago. It was so long ago. But he looked at Aaron and felt like no time had passed at all. But it was heavy now, the memory and realized they’d only managed a year of happiness. He’d ruined it, he’d ruined them every time and did he really deserve another chance.  He wanted it, he wanted it enough to take it – he knew he’d take it if Aaron offered.  

But he couldn’t ask for it.

And he doubted Aaron would offer it.  

Aaron cleared his throat and looked away from him.  

“I’ll call Belle…” He said and dialed her number.

Robert nodded.

“Belle, it’s Aaron…” He started. “Look, can you get the keys from Seb and come and let… What… What do ya.. What?”

“What is she saying?”

“It is not a good idea…” Aaron sighed. “What did he tell ya?”

“Aaron?”

“Belle, no… Belle, just… Hello? Hello?” Aaron groaned.

“Is she coming?” Robert asked though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“No. She thinks Seb has a point, and we should talk.”

“She what?”

Aaron’s cheeks went red, and he ducked his head. “She’s decided to support Seb’s plan.”

“He’s twelve.”

“Liv was fourteen,” Aaron said.

Robert laughed. “At least we had a beer then.”

Aaron smiled, and their eyes locked.

Then they both looked away.

Robert sighed.

“Belle really won’t make us stay here too long… So uh… Get comfortable?” Aaron muttered and he sat down at his desk. “I guess I’ll do paperwork.”

“Really?” Robert said.

“What?” Aaron said as he sat down.

“Paperwork?”

Aaron averted his eyes and pulled out a pen.

Robert stared at him, and he shifted where he stood. He tried sitting down. He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He sighed a few times and glanced at Aaron — a few times he caught Aaron glancing at him, and he was pretty sure Aaron wasn’t actually doing the paperwork in front of him.

Robert cleared his throat loudly.

Aaron looked at him.

“Would…would…” He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t, …but he wanted too and somehow that won out.  "Would talking about what Seb said be so bad?“  

Aaron pretended to be reading whatever paperwork he had under his nose for a bit longer before he finally just dropped the pen he was holding. But he stayed silent.

"Forget it…” Robert muttered.

“Maybe…” Aaron sighed.

“What?” Robert asked they’d spoken at the same time.

Aaron looked at him. “Maybe we should say it.”

“Say what?”

“That’s it’s…off the table.”

Robert clenched his jaw and looked away from Aaron. He ended up turning his back to him as he tried to tell himself he deserved how hard that hurt. It felt like something been slammed at his chest, and the mere thought of it made him feel wrong in his skin. Robert gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn around again and face Aaron. When he turned, he saw Aaron had stood up, and he looked a bit uncertain where he stood, but he wasn’t speaking. But he wasn’t taking it back, and his mouth opened a bit like he wanted to speak, but nothing was coming out of it.

“Alright, then… Say it,” Robert said because it was what Aaron wanted. He could voice it out loud. He could make it true, that there was no going back to them — that was real, there was no hope.

Aaron opened his mouth and closed it.  

Robert waited.

“I can't…” Aaron sighed.

“Love me?” Robert asked before he stopped himself.

“What? No, Robert, say we’re off the table. I can't…I can’t say that.”

“What? I thought you wanted that…”

“Can you? Do you?” Aaron asked him.

Robert shook his head.

“But…” Aaron winced and sat back down at his desk.

Robert sighed.  

“Seb asked me if I still loved you…” Aaron said.

“What did you say?”

“That it was complicated.”

Robert nodded.

“But it isn’t…” Aaron stood up.

“What?”

“Loving you isn’t complicated, it just is Robert.”

“But?”

“It scares me, it always has and it always will…”

Robert nodded.

“And maybe if…”

“If what?”

“If Seb wouldn’t get caught up in the tidal wave…” Aaron said.

Robert nodded.

“I love you, but I don’t know how I can risk you again, Robert.”

“I know,” he said because he did. “I don’t… I’ve never deserved you, and I definitely don’t deserve Seb.”

“No…that’s not. No,” Aaron snapped at him.

“What? It’s true, Aaron.”

“It is not,” Aaron shouted. “Is that..is that what you made you able to do it?”

Robert looked down at his feet and shook his head.

He heard Aaron moving, then he felt him, hovering right in front of him, and then their hands were clasped. He shouldn’t have held Aaron’s hand back, he shouldn’t have let him thread their fingers together, but he allowed it. He let the electricity skate up his arm, the zap he always felt every bloody time Aaron touched him from the first second to the last second.

“Look at me.”

Robert looked up.

“Was that it?” he asked again.

Robert nodded.

“You idiot…” Aaron shook his head. “I knew, I knew it was letting me go because you loved me, I knew you were too stubborn for me to get to – when you were locked away but…”

“But what, you didn’t think I knew I never deserved you?”

“Fuck that,” Aaron snapped. “You do…you deserve whatever you want, Robert. You deserve our little boy, you do.”

“I left him too,” he sniffed. “I walked right away…”

“I was there right after that, I remember you crying out in your sleep, the tears…” Aaron sniffled, and his free hand wiped at his eyes. “You love him like you love me…” He paused. “You do still?”

“Always, Aaron,” Robert breathed. “Don’t know how to stop, and don’t want to learn.”

Aaron sighed.

Robert squeezed Aaron’s hand, felt that zap, and felt dizzy and hopeless. They had to let go. “But it’s not enough, is it?”

“That’s not it…” Aaron shook his head. “You’re enough. Your the only one who is enough…” He laughed. “I tried, more than once, but… I almost married someone, not Tim, but the day came, and I found myself in the garage.”

“Yeah?”

“Us, there, that day… Those vows,” Aaron sighed. “I couldn’t say them to someone else.”

“No?”

“And Tim… He thought he’d change my mind, said he was gonna wear me down…but I was honest. I told him I’d never get married again. I thought I could be with him anyway, that it’d be enough… But that wasn’t fair to him, was it? Especially after, after you and I breathed the same air again.”

“Aaron?”

Aaron squeezed his hand, and his eyes closed. “I don’t know what to do… I know what I want, I just don’t know if it’s right.”

“What?” Robert shook his head. “You can’t…”

“I can’t what?”

“You can’t want me back, Aaron. That’s…”

“What?”

“Stupid… I’m not… I’ll mess it up again, somehow.”

“No,” Aaron shook his head. “We messed it up, Robert.”

“No, I did.”

“I didn’t fight for ya,” Aaron sighed. “I should’ve. I almost did more than once, but…”

“I wouldn’t have let you try.”

“Yeah, and I let that stand. I regret it.”

“Aaron… It was fourteen years, I served most of it… I’m old.”

“You were always old,” Aaron muttered. “And you don’t look it, you look amazing…just some more lines around your eyes, but I always loved the ones already there. And I’m gray.”

“Barely,” Robert whispered, and his free hand hit Aaron’s cheek. Beard stubble against his palm, the perfect scratch, and Aaron’s gray hair was really fine and white, and you’d only notice it if the light hit them just right.  "You’re beautiful.“

"Shut up.”

“You are?” Robert smiled.

Aaron looked at him, and their gazes locked. Robert felt rocked by it harder than the first time it happened. Because he felt rocked by Aaron seeing him every single time it happened. He saw Aaron too, and Aaron’s eyes fell to his mouth for a split second, but it was enough…

Robert kissed him, and he felt like he was breathing for the first time in a decade.

~~~

Aaron sighed as Robert’s mouth landed against his own. It wasn’t a kiss, not yet. For a suspended moment, Aaron just felt like he exhaled a breath he’d been holding – for a long time – possibly since he lost Robert. He sighed, and his eyes closed, and the hand that’d taken Robert’s tightened its hold on him before his other landed on Robert’s chest, right over his heart. He felt it beating, wildly against his palm and he sighed again, he felt Robert breath slip right into his mouth and then they were kissing.

They swayed, their bodies crashing together, there was a push, and a pull and their hands let go, only for Robert’s to land behind his neck, thumb in his cheek, like their first kiss and so many that followed. Aaron grabbed at his arms, biceps that felt bigger than he remembered, and he frowned about why – there was only so much to do in prison. He made a sound, at remembering why Robert was gone…

Why he left…

It’d been easy to just focus on him being gone if he thought about the why it broke his heart, it made him miss him, it made him fight himself about allowing the time and space between them.

They’d never fell out of love.

Robert never did anything wrong.

He heard voices in his head that were his mum’s, Paddy’s, Cain’s… Talking about murder, but he shook his head. Because Robert had ended a monster, a real true life monster. He dug his hands into Robert’s arms and allowed himself to fall deeper into the kiss.  

It was Robert, he inhaled and smelled him and felt it settle into him and over him, he pulled at him wanting him closer, wanting to feel the heat of his skin and see if remembered what his skin felt like… He was yanking and pulling, he felt himself losing his hi-vis vest, and he was on top of a desk, Jimmy’s he thought idly, but then his eyes fell on freckled skin…

He pulled more buttons apart and ran his hands up Robert’s chest and counted his favorite spray of freckles that were between his nipples. He pressed forward and kissed him there. Robert made a noise, both whimper and moan, and he did it again. Missed him making sounds like that, missed every fucking thing about him.  

It overwhelmed him, and he was pulling back and looking up. He was on the desk, and Robert was standing between his legs, he felt large and looming over him. Aaron felt his insides curl, and he realized he was crying, just as Robert’s thumbs caught his tears. He looked at Robert’s face and saw his own chin, wobbling in that way it did, the way Aaron knew Robert hated.  

Robert let out a deep shuddering breath, and their foreheads smacked together, Robert curled down over him and Aaron looking up, his legs around his waist – he thought he should move them but he couldn’t. He took a few breathes and tried to find words.

“Aaron?” Robert breathed his name, and it sounded to reverent.

“It’s just me,” he said.

“But it’s not…” Robert whispered. “It’s like you said. We have to consider Seb.”

Aaron nodded.

“I want you…” Robert’s voice was deep. “But I can’t if it’s not going to be…”

“Forever?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish I could make grand promises, I could make them sound believable.”

Aaron laughed.

“I love you, I’ll always love you but…”

“You do, though,” Aaron sighed and moved just enough to lean back, grab Robert’s face and stare at him. “You deserve what you want, you deserve happy Robert.”

“I destroy.”

“Tell Jack to shut up,” Aaron spat.

Robert’s mouth clicked closed.

Aaron sighed, and the guilt ate him. “I let myself pretend you really left me.”

“I did.”

“No. You let me go…” His voice broke. “You loved me, and you let me go… And I let you do it.”

“I thought it was a lifetime, Aaron.”

“But, your home…” Aaron sighed. “And I never, I never found anything close.”

Robert sighed.

“You’ve always said no one comes close…” Aaron sniffed.

“They don’t, no one could…”

“Same, Robert…” Aaron sighed. “Why do you think I broke up with Tim?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t want too…”

“What?”

“Hope?”

Aaron laughed. “It’s scary, it is… You’ve terrified me from the first second I touched ya…”

Robert laughed.

“I shoved you against that wall, remember… Told you right off for being a smug arse.”

“I remember.”

“But I had ya there, against that wall and I just wanted… I wanted ya, Robert, and it scared me. You scare me, I know you, I know what we have…and…” Aaron stared into Robert’s eyes, the color of a tropical ocean, full of tears, and he blinked. Making tears fall from his own eyes, he remembered drowning in a car and knowing he couldn’t live with it if Robert went with him…

But Robert would’ve in a heartbeat.

It was scary.

It wasn’t normal.

But nothing about his life ever was….

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

Robert nodded, and Aaron saw the same fear in his eyes.

“But…”

“Aaron, don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I do, though, don’t I, I always mean it… It’s you. I’ll always choose you.”

Robert smiled. “Aaron?”

“We belong together.”

“But…”

“We risk it,” Aaron lunged forward and kissed him, again and again, and spoke between the press of their lips. “We risk it, for us, for Seb… We won’t be happy apart, it won’t work, Robert, you know it… You know.”

“I know,” Robert whispered into his mouth.  

“I love ya,” Aaron smiled.

“Always,” Robert whispered.

“I need ya…” They whispered in unison as they pulled and yanked at the rest of their clothes, remembering how to touch each other just right. Aaron realized he never really forgot the taste of Robert’s skin – it was a craving he’d never been able to sate.

Their intimacy was their own and it blew anything else he’d ever felt out of the water – because no one ever came close despite the lies he told himself. He panted into Robert’s neck and let him hold him as he came apart.

And Robert shook his arms, and he felt tears against his shoulder. He had his fingers in Robert’s hair and into his scalp. “It’s alright.”

“I just… Thought I’d lost you forever.”

“Never.”

Robert breathed. “Might have to prove it a few times,” but he laughed and their eyes locked. Robert winked, and it made a tear fall, Aaron pressed forward and kissed it off his cheek.

“I’ll prove it.”

Robert kissed his forehead, and Aaron felt himself cry. It was relief though and a bit of fear but knew he’d made the right choice. Robert was always his right choice. They fit together too well, they were…

“You’re my soulmate,’ Robert breathed, lips pressing the skin of his forehead again.

"I know,” Aaron whispered, buried his face into Robert’s chest. The only place he’d ever felt complete safety.  

“Now what?” Robert asked after a few minutes.

“We get dressed… It’s bloody cold in here.”

Robert laughed, and reluctantly they moved apart and slipped back into their clothes, stealing glances, and Aaron felt younger than he had in years. He felt a bit giddy and grinned, and then he laughed loudly.

“What?”

“Valentine’s Day is one of our anniversaries now.”

Robert scoffed. “Why don’t we just make it all of February.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” He smiled.

Aaron knew he meant it too. “Come home? Tonight?”

Robert smiled. “Are you…”

“Of course, I’m sure…” Aaron smiled, and old memory flashed in his mind, of Robert on other February day, pulling two rings out of a wallet.

“Aaron?” Robert protested as Aaron moved out of his reach.

He found the safe and hurried over to it and turned the combination. He looked through the papers and things inside for the specific large blue envelope he’d put them in and found it. He pulled it out and turned toward Robert. “I had to keep them safe.”

“Aaron?”

He opened the envelope and pulled out a watch and two rings.

Robert’s mouth fell open.

“I was going to give this to Seb, like you wanted, on his eighteenth – now you can, and you could…”

“Aaron?” Robert licked his lips.

“I love you,” Aaron said. “I want this…” he stepped forward and took the cheap watch off of Robert’s wrist and snapped their watch back around his wrist where it belonged. Then he grabbed his left hand and held up one of the rings?

Robert nodded.

“Marry me again?” Aaron laughed as he slipped it on his finger.

“God, yes…I love you,” Robert smiled, and he took the other ring from Aaron, took Aaron’s hand and slipped it onto his finger. In that second, Aaron felt himself become whole again.

“Soon,” they both whispered.

They kissed, and Aaron whimpered when Robert broke it.

“We should go tell Seb,” he said.

“Give him a right big head.”

“Say he deserves it… He’s pretty brilliant. One his first schemes, and it’s worked.”

Aaron laughed. “He gets that from me.”