#listen it took me six years to get caught up on story bc if the vibes don't hit I'm GONE for like three months

[scourgeblooms]

commander ⇾ wayfinder

[chuluoyi]

romeo and juliet

- fushiguro megumi x reader

you were both young when you first saw each other. years later, you and your gentle childhood friend fall in love... but you're betrothed to someone else.

genre/warnings: modern royal(?) au, childhood friends to lovers, soft!megumi, fluff, forbidden love, arranged marriage, mild angst, comfort

notes: i love this request!! but i don’t know if this turned out good🥲 honestly, this is what unholy matrimony would be if done right in another universe *snorts* anyways i hope i did this right! enjoy!

had to repost it 3x bcs it didn't show up in the tags😭 based on this request: “Hey, can I ask a Megumi x Reader with the plot related to “Love Story” by Taylor Swift?” thank you anon!

listen to: love story - taylor swift duh

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Your father had always told you that you were promised to the Zen'in.

Ever since you were a child, he had groomed you to be the picture-perfect lady, and he always brought you to their ancestral home, a grand, maze-like estate you would always get lost in.

You were barely six back then, stumbling on your own feet as tears streamed down your face. You sought refuge in the gardens, hoping that someone would come to find you there eventually as you were tired of walking around.

And on that fateful day, the one who finally did was none other than the little Fushiguro Megumi, who looked at you with tilted head and confused eyes.

"Are you... okay?" he asked cautiously, and he was startled when your wide, teary eyes quickly focused on him. The next thing he knew, you immediately clung to his hand.

"I'm lost! Please help me!" you said with trembling voice, and Megumi merely blinked. This unknown girl suddenly latched onto him, well, who wouldn't be taken by surprise?

Yet, even as a child, Megumi knew how to treat someone right. Seeing you in distress, he immediately found a way to console you. "Okay... where are your parents? Let me take you back to them."

"I... don't know..."

He sighed. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears, and he didn't want that. He had to find another way. "Don't be scared. This place seems scary, but it's not."

You scrunched your face, tears already pooling in your eyes. "How is it not scary? There are so many windows and leaves! This is more like a jungle rather than a house!"

"Well..." Megumi wracked his head and a light bulb went off in his head when he caught the sight of the flowers. He pointed at a pot of roses. "Look, they're actually quite pretty, right?"

At that very moment, your focus was completely captured by the flourishing plant, and your eyes practically shimmered with delight.

Little Megumi thought then, that you were quite lovely.

And your friendship started then, as he took you by the arm to lead you to the main foyer.

Years flew by, and the only thing that made it bearable to pay a visit to the Zen'in was meeting Megumi. You both would explore various hidden corners and knew every nook and cranny of the place. And when you reached your teens, the "playing" was replaced by studying in the library together.

"Hrrrgh, why—can't—I—reach—"

You gritted your teeth in frustration as you attempted to pull the book from the top shelf, only to fail miserably. Your were too short. But you refused to surrender, standing on your tiptoes once more, you stretched your hand as far as it would go.

Suddenly, the scent of fresh roses filled the air, accompanied by a warm presence behind you. Your back made contact with him, and a longer hand effortlessly retrieved the book you desired.

"If you're having a hard time, ask me for help, dummy," Megumi shook his head and handed you the book. "Here."

"Thank you," you pouted. Despite the frequent close proximity between you two, you still found yourself feeling giddy.

Megumi was always like this though. He was curt, but he cares. He would often cheer you up whenever you father smothered you with the talk that he couldn't wait for the day you would be living at the Zen'in estate and became their bride. He would get you flowers, let you put your head on his shoulder, or quietly watch as you cried, offering his silent presence.

You really, really hoped that if you were to be married off to the Zen'in, it would be to Megumi. He was easily the boy you'd pick over Naoya, the son of the main branch of family. You were never close to him, the way he stared at you sure gave you the creeps.

"I can ask for your help anytime, right, Megumi?" you mused, observing his cool profile as he turned the page of the book he was reading.

He regarded you with the straightest face ever. "Of course. I have always helped you since we were kids. Why wouldn't I do that now?"

"Then..." you breathed. "Can you take me somewhere... anywhere, just away from all of this?"

Megumi stilled. He knew about the conflicts in your heart. He knew you hated being played as a pawn in your father's schemes, and he hated that too, because he simply didn't like how sad it made you.

And he hated that there was the looming possibility that you might be out of his reach far sooner than he thought.

"Sure," he answered. "Where do you wanna go?"

And then, you began to do just that. Sneaking out to the gardens, finding secret meeting spots in the town—because you were dead if anyone should know.

Before you knew it, you both had each other's hearts entirely in your hands—before you knew it, his face was mere inches from yours as you both concealed yourselves behind a large cluster of foliage in the Zen'in gardens, your father and the Zen'in clan head engrossed in a conversation just a few feet away.

Your clear, wide eyes blinked up at him, and Megumi gulped. At that moment, he realized once again that you, his childhood friend, were really stunning. And that you trusted him wholeheartedly enough to go with him and be found in this position, with him.

He couldn't deny it any longer. He was in love with you. Have been for a while now.

And so even with the great risk of being found out, he led you deeper into the woods, his arm wrapped around the small of your back, and with a soft tug, he planted the gentlest, sweetest kiss on your lips—your very first kiss. Everything was sealed then.

"So, do you say yes, or not?" he mumbled afterwards, his cheeks burst into the color of peach. Meanwhile you, still breathless, touched your lips in astonishment.

"You..." you couldn't help the grin that was blooming in your face. "You like me?"

He turned away. "Who wouldn't? After making me run after you, lead you to safe places, see you cry—"

"Okay, okay!" you giggled, and the sound was like music to his ears. "Then it's a yes!"

You were the happiest with him. Amidst the intrigues surrounding you and the Zen'in clan, the times you spent with him were your saving grace.

"Am I pretty?" you boldly twirled in front of him, after meeting up at the outskirts of the town in one of your escapades. Megumi watched you from head to toe, taking note of how your flare dress hugged your form so elegantly, and the straw hat that framed your head only made you look even more adorable.

He didn't immediately answer, and when he did, all with red cheeks, you smiled brightly, expecting a compliment.

"Don't do that. People are looking. You're embarrassing yourself."

You pouted. "So I'm not pretty..."

To your surprise, he suddenly plucked your hat and pulled you behind the pillar, and then the round hat was beside your head, hiding your face—

And he stole a kiss.

"Megumi!" you jolted, blood quickly rushed to your beautiful face. "This is public place!"

His soft chuckle only served to make your heart soar even higher.

You were living the dream, with the man of your dreams beside you. This love story no one knew, you were content with it.

"By this point, all there's left to do is run," you heaved between chuckles and his feathery kisses as the two of you hid away to have your thirst in the gardens. "Can't we just run, Megumi?"

"I would, if I could," he gazed at you with a steadfast resolve. "Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess, somehow."

This love is difficult. But it's real.

But so was your father. And his will. In the summer of your coming of age, it was decided that you were going to marry Zen'in Naoya.

Your love story with Megumi... would it end just like that?

"Please, don't go!" you begged. You could hardly believe this situation right now. What did he say? End things here—?

Megumi felt his heart clench. "It's been announced already. You are to marry him. We can... no longer do this."

"But!" you argued. "You s-said... you would find a way out of it somehow..."

Your eyes glazed over, and Megumi had to look away to keep his heart from breaking completely. "I'm sorry."

At the end of the day, he was still a mere son of the branch family and stood no chance against Naoya. If you were to become the bride of his cousin, even he had to respect that.

Your heart shattered into pieces. This day had been looming on the horizon, and you'd been aware of it for some time. Your father didn't exactly conceal his greed with how he insisted on your marriage to Naoya to secure your position as the clan's main wife, instead of Megumi.

Yet it still hurt. You didn’t expect your happiness to he this fleeting, and you were disappointed that Megumi didn’t exactly fight his way through this.

“It’s… for your own good,” he added, and grimaced when he saw how you started sobbing. “I don’t want to compromise your virtue. It'll get ugly fast if people think that we're having… dalliances. You deserve better—”

"Don't patronize me!" you yelled. "Don't t-try... to tell me how to feel!"

Frankly, you never cared about virtues or anything. Most of choices made in your life weren't yours, and if you could finally make a decision through jeopardizing your fickle reputation, then so be it.

"I love you too much to let that happen," Megumi said then, baring his own feelings, that he too, didn't want this any more than you did. "You know I would do anything for you."

"All there's left to do is run," you sniffled. "If you would do anything for me, you would run with me."

Just say yes, your little heart screamed. You stared at him through your wet lashes, desperately willing him to just forget all this nonsense about family, virtue, and just choose love—your love.

But he never did. That day, he decided to leave you. This love was indeed difficult, but you really thought it was real, and now you had never felt so alone.

Days went by longer after that. Now that it had been announced to the public, as per Naoya’s will, you would move into the Zen’in estate until the day of your marriage. You resented and barely knew him, and your gut feeling was proven true when he smirked before you, pulling you into one of the hidden compartments of this godforsaken place.

“Don’t think I didn’t know about what you and he were up to,” he spat viciously. “You should’ve already known that you are always meant to be my wife—and what did you do? You’re putting me to shame as you and that lesser bastard run around.”

“He would always be better than you,” you bitterly scoffed.

“Get it through your head already, you’re to become my wife, and that’s final.”

“You can’t do anything if I don’t want to anyway. Beware of upcoming scandals in the future.”

And with that, came the first day of your misery. Naoya locked you up in that desolate place.

You were missing.

Megumi had noticed it for quite a while. Even if you were no longer his, his heart still longed for yours, and ultimately he wanted to make sure if you were okay. You moving in into his home should increase the chances of him seeing you, and yet, it was as if you had disappeared into the thin air.

It was an understatement to say that he was just worried. He knew Naoya wasn’t exactly the kindest in this household, but he really expected him to at least treat you right.

He still remembered how the tears fell from your beautiful eyes, telling him not to go. Megumi was as heartbroken as you, if not more. He had the choice when you asked him to run, yet he willingly stopped and did what he believed to be the right thing.

Was this still the right thing though?

As the maids hurried past, yelling something that vaguely sounded like your name and the phrase "starving herself!", Megumi felt his blood run cold. Without hesitation, he forcefully grabbed one of them, demanding answers.

“Where is she? What happened to her?”

The maid merely cowered with worry and fear. “Master Naoya… specifically instructed us not to let the miss pass freely…”

Megumi didn’t quite recall what he did, but he couldn't forget the frantic pounding of his heart as he rushed through the gardens to find you in the small room tucked away in the farthest corner of the vast compound, near the servants' dormitory. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he opened it.

You abruptly spun around to face the commotion, thinking that it may be your shitty fiancé, utterly bewildered.

Megumi scrutinized you closely, and gradually, he could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface.

You were pale, your hair was a disheveled mess, but what truly infuriated him was the sight of your broken nails and the dried blood. All he could think of was that you probably tried to claw your way out of this place.

"Megumi?" your voice sounded too hoarse to his liking. You looked at him as if you couldn't believe he was real. His heart shattered.

He shouldn't have left you. He should've run with you. You shouldn't have to be alone and hurt like this.

"Save me," you croaked with small voice, eyes brimming with unshed tears and fear.

That did it. When he heard the approaching rapid footsteps, he made the swiftest, life-changing decision of his life.

He caught a hold of your arm, and pinned you to the wall. And when the entirety of the household arrived in your doorstep, Naoya included, he made it a show as if the two of you were having the most scandalous tryst of the town.

"This ends here," he grunted, casting a glare at his rotten cousin. "I'm marrying her."

"I got tired of waiting, you know," you giggled, peering at your beloved's sullen face. "My faith faded at one point."

Megumi hummed, clasping his hand in yours. "I'm sorry."

You rolled your eyes, staring at the clear waters under the cruise. "I kept waiting, but you never came... and when you did, you caused us to make the headlines."

Your wedding to Megumi was both the grand event and scandal of the year. The sudden change of groom on such short notice triggered disapproving glances from most of the people you knew in this infuriating town, but frankly, you didn't care.

"I thought you wouldn't fight for me at all,” you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers.

"I've always believed that if it would make you happy in the end, I would be fine with it," Megumi said, gently tucking your hair behind your ear as the wind swept by.

"And then? What made you finally let go of that righteous, self-sacrificing thoughts?"

The softest smile was graced his lips. "I love you, and that's all I really know."

You didn't give a damn about what anyone else had to say because, in this moment—as you sailed on your honeymoon cruise, and throughout this love story, from your childhood and forevermore, he is the prince, and you are his princess.

[ethanesimp]

AMAMI PER SEMPRE // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ethan isn’t the brightest—or the best—when it comes to surprises, so his attempt at proposing to you causes a few misunderstandings...

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny tiny mention of death, some angst, other than that it’s pure fluff and me projecting my obsession with old books onto the reader.

Request: Ethan planning to propose and acting super nervous and strange (a bit angsty bc the reader doesn’t know what’s happening) and ending in pure fluff.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: After more than a year of stepping foot into a bookstore for *cough* obvious reasons, I got to go to one yesterday. While looking at some second-hand books I had an idea that I decided to combine with @kawaiiwxnnabe​’s lovely request to bring you this. I hope you enjoy! <3 

Ethan had been mindlessly listening to Damiano sing Amandoti when the thought of marrying you first seriously crossed his mind. It had been a thing he’d thought of countless times ever since he started dating you, but it had never remained with as much intensity as it had that time. 

Damiano, who had noticed his friend’s face illuminate all of a sudden, had a talk with him that once and for all convinced Ethan that it was the right time and you were the right person. He didn’t sleep at all that night because he couldn’t stop thinking about what would be the perfect way to propose to you. It was no secret to him—or anyone who knew you—that you were a hopeless romantic. 

There was nothing that made you happier than simple and small details that came from the heart. That was the reason why you had developed an affinity towards old books. Not only did they have a particular and special scent that reminded you of vanilla and chocolate, but some had the luck—as you liked to call it—of being embellished by notes on margins or dedications on covers. Whether they were about love, sorrow, or maybe even hate, they still showed a small glimpse into the life of the person who had once owned it. Those notes told a story that would prevail even long after they were gone from the earth. 

Ever since he had noticed that small obsession of yours, Ethan had tried to help you expand your treasured collection by bringing you back books he found at antique stores from every country the band played in. 

During a visit to Spain after he initially had his stirring thought, Ethan took the chance to visit one of the second-hand shops he’d found during a night stroll with Victoria, who had disappeared into a bakery. His main goal was to find something different from the usual books he brought back for you. 

After he walked into the store and vaguely told the old lady at the counter about his idea in the best Spanish he could muster, she smiled warmly at him and guided him to the very back of the tiny shop where a beautiful and worn out bookshelf sat in all its glory, filled with as many books as it could hold. 

He immediately started searching around for the perfect book, but it proved to be harder than he initially thought it’d be. After searching around for more than an hour, all he had found was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems with a heartbreaking note to someone’s dead lover. While it had almost brought him to tears and was a special thing he’d buy to give to you later, it wasn’t exactly the best thing to help him carry out his plan.   

Victoria walked into the shop when he was about to give up and, fully aware of his plan, started looking around without saying a word to him. They both searched around the messy piles of books for something. It didn’t take long for her to stumble across three books held together by a lilac satin ribbon. 

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. All three contained a note on the very first page right under the title, but the last one stood out above the other two because, according to his basic knowledge of Spanish, it ended with the very question he wanted to ask ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? Or ‘Will you marry me?’. He bought all three of them after a huge smile and a thumbs up from Victoria.  

What he hadn’t expected was for them to remain hidden in a drawer he knew you never opened underneath piles of clothes. Ever since he came back from their small trip to Spain, Ethan had tried to ask the question about six times, but always ended up choking on his words and saying something else. In fact, the first time he ever tried, Ethan chickened out at the last second and ended up giving you the Edgar Allan Poe anthology instead.

You were still none the wiser to his plan even after he’d asked about your opinion on marriage a few times. Anyone would’ve probably caught up with what was going on already, but you were always so busy with things happening around you that you didn’t connect his awkward and nervous attitude with his questions.

You didn’t start giving his actions a second thought until one night… You had been cooped up in your office all day working on a new project you were supposed to present to your boss by the end of the week when you suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk around the house.

Ethan was casually sitting on the couch as he whispered unintelligible words into his phone. You supposed he was on a call with a friend or maybe his manager and was trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing you, but then he hung up the call with a panicked expression the moment he noticed you. After that, you started thinking back on the way he had been behaving ever since he returned and it all raised the suspicion that there was something strange going on. 

It didn’t get any better when he kept on acting weird. Simple things that he had allowed you to do, like using his phone to take pictures because it had a better camera than yours, now seemed to make him almost mad. He’d even snapped at you once when you tried to grab it to take a picture with him. Even if Ethan had apologized right away, it still didn’t calm you down, especially because he had gone as far as to change the password on it.

It almost felt like he was walking on eggshells around you and you didn’t like it one bit. Your relationship had always been about honesty and worked because of constant communication. Everything was just so strange that your mind couldn’t help but think of the worst.

You were an imaginative person who never had any difficulties when it came to envisioning things clearly. Unfortunately, that also applied to every negative thought that crossed your mind, so it wasn’t hard for you to start coming up with the worst explanations as to why he was acting so suspicious. It didn’t help much that he had been busier than normal because the band was wrapping up on their latest album, so you hadn’t had the opportunity to sit down and voice all your concerns, to ask if something was going on and if there was a way to fix it. 

The morning of your anniversary, you’d finally had enough. You had woken up, expecting to feel Ethan’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist and to receive a shower of kisses the moment he noticed you were awake, but no. There was no Ethan and the side of his bed was already neatly made.

Your disappointment only grew when he wasn’t in the kitchen or his small studio where he had his drums. You doubted he was in the house at all. 

It was a thing that wouldn’t have affected you much had he done it any other time, but with everything that had been going on as of late, you could only fear the worst. So, without being able to control yourself, you started making the worst conclusions. You’d always been fully aware that he loved you, but all the signs undoubtedly pointed at him meeting someone new… And maybe he was going to leave you for them as well… during your anniversary.

That was all you needed to break into tears. You climbed back into bed and cried for what seemed to be hours. Even since you got together, you had thought of him as your person, your forever. The thought of him leaving you broke your heart into tiny pieces.

Ethan arrived home only a few minutes after you’d buried yourself underneath all the blankets and cried out all your worries. When he was about to open the door to your bedroom, he stopped. Were you crying? 

He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds until he was more than sure that you were, in fact, crying. Ethan rushed inside and he felt his heart break at the sight of you looking so heartbroken, and it didn’t get any better when he heard a whimper come out of your mouth at the sight of him. You cuddled deeper into the bedsheets and turned away from him.

Ethan sat on your side of the bed and, as delicately as possible, he cupped your face into his warm hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Amore,” He said in a quiet voice, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You tried to turn away from him, but his grip on your face stopped you from doing so. You placed one of your hands on top of his and gave it a firm squeeze. No part of you was ready to have that conversation with him because that was going to be it and you were going to have to watch him leave…

So, with a lot of courage, you spoke the first words that came to mind, “You know, i-it’s okay if you’ve found someone else,” You caressed his cheek softly as more tears started spilling down your face, “You can tell me if you have.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words and the only thing he could do was shake his head no, “What? Found someone else? What would make you say such a thing dolcezza?”

Then, before you could even answer, realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt like the stupidest living being on the face of the Earth. He pinched his nose and sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Fuck… I’m so fucking stupid. Please don’t ever think of something like that. I was just… I-I,” Clueless as to what to say, Ethan pressed his lips against yours to kiss you slowly, hoping it spoke more than his words ever could. He could still taste a trace of the salty tears that had fallen on your lips and he couldn’t help but shed a few of his own at the thought that he’d been the one to make you cry.

After pulling away, Ethan pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose against yours while his arms held you as close as possible, “Will you close your eyes for just a second, amore mio? I promise everything will make so much sense soon.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as you felt him get up from the bed. You heard him open and close a few drawers, and look around for something for a while before he sat back on the bed. Ethan grabbed your hands in his and slowly slipped the three small books into your grasp.

You opened his eyes after a small sound of approval from him and smiled when you saw the three old books held together by a ribbon and the pretty pink rose that had been carefully been slipped into the first book and the ribbon.

You gently removed the flower and placed it on your side. Then you undid the simple knot and picked up the first book, “Wuthering Heights?” You questioned.

He nodded, “Yeah… At least I think that’s it. I hope I didn’t bring back some sketchy book or some shit,” Ethan scratched his neck and you giggled as you opened it on the first page. Your fingers brushed over the letters neatly written down in fountain pen.  

After clearing your throat, you started reading the first dedication out loud. Since your Spanish wasn’t exactly the best either, you had to pause every once in a while to translate all the words, “May 17, 1850… My dearest Helena, I hope this book reaches you in great condition, being apart from you is one of the hardest challenges I have ever had to face, one of the most painful as well. I hope you can find me in between these pages as you read and remember how much I love you, remember how much I long to be back in your arms and kiss your lips. Sincerely, Alejandro.”

You closed it and placed it back on the bed before opening the second book and doing the same thing with the third, “January 24, 1855. Carolina, nothing I’ve ever experienced has gotten close to being as terrible as not having you in my arms. Apologies are overdue… long overdue. Words have never been my strongest suit, yet I still hope I can coherently express just how much I love you, all of you. I’m afraid I’m already too late since you will soon be betrothed to someone else and there will be nothing I can do by then.

 “Still, I hope with everything in my being that this arrives sooner so you’re aware of how sorry I am. I hope you remember that I would do anything you asked without a single complaint just to watch that lovely smile I adore so much appear on your face. If you ever come back to me, I promise with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t keep my promise, that I will leave everything behind and escape with you. Anywhere, any time. So with that, I ask a question that will hopefully have a yes as an answer. Will you marry me? With love, Javier.”

Before you could close it, Ethan stopped you and timidly asked for you to open the book on the very last page. You did it and looked back at him with confusion at the sight of his writing on the page, “Read this one out loud for me. Will you Y/N?” You nodded and mumbled a small ‘of course’ before clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that had formed. 

“October 21, 2025… Y/N, my one true love, I’ve always hoped to make a gesture that will remind you of your treasured books. I’ve never been one great with words spoken out loud, so I sought inspiration from those before me who were just as in love with someone as I am with you. Ever since I met you I dreamt of one day settling down with you, of having our small home in the countryside as you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe even doing some of those cloying gestures people seem to do in fiction and dedicate to you the most beautiful love poems I lay eyes on. 

“I’ve wondered for a while how I could ever take the step that would bring me closer to that goal, yet every time I try, words seem to get stuck in my throat with no way out and I end up in square one all over again. It is with this note that I hope to finally take a step in the right direction because I know you’re it for me. You’re my person, my forever, and there’s nothing I would love more than to share my life with you. Sei la mia migliore amica e il mio unico vero amore. Ti chiedo di accettare il mio amore, il mio nome e tutto quello che sono.” (You are my best friend and my one true love. I ask you to accept my love, my name, and everything I am.)

When your eyes spotted the four words that followed, you slowly lowered the book, “Will you marry me?” You both said at the same time, although yours sounded more like an unintelligible mumble. Only then did you notice him down on one knee right in front of you. He held a velvet box with one of the most beautiful rings sitting inside of it 

A hand went to cover your mouth as tears started falling down your face. This time, happy and free of worry. You could only nod repeatedly, overcome with pure joy as your heart swelled with love.

He slowly slid the ring into your finger and grabbed your face to kiss you once again, “I’m so sorry I made you think something else was going on. I just kept backtracking every time I tried to tell you. Not because I was regretting the decision but because I didn’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head as a silent way of saying it was alright and brushed his hair back with your fingers, “The important thing is that you’ve done it and you’re not going to lose me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be right here because I love you and I’ll always be yours.”

[gredandforgesmischief]

long story short - f.w

title: long story short

pairing: fred x female slytherin reader

summary: fred has been in love with y/n since they were fifteen, but the universe was never really on their side. (idk i'm bad at writing summaries but basically best friends to lovers. this takes place during gof in the spring.) this is also vaguely inspired by "long story short" by taylor swift bc i'm obsessed w her (see if you can find the lyrics)

other characters/pairings mentioned: adrian pucey/y/n, fred/angelina, george weasley, harry potter, ron weasley, neville longbottom

content warnings: its all fluff, some parts can be construed as angsty?? maybe probably not. sad fred at some point. sad y/n at some point. fred and y/n are both clueless all the time for no reason.

a/n: i wrote this with my Head Empty, but I hope you enjoy (feedback welcomed) also this wasn't proof read so ignore any grammatical errors

“... right Fred?”

“Yeah that’s cool, whatever,” Fred grumbled as a very irritated George hit his side.

The pair were having breakfast at the Gryffindor table, and the two were supposed to be brainstorming shop ideas, but it was apparent that Fred’s mind was off somewhere else.

Regardless of how hard he tried, Fred’s mind was often clouded with his feelings about Y/N. The two had been best friends since third year, and it took him a long time to realize that he wanted to be much more than just her best friend. But just as expected, right as Fred realized, Y/N had gotten into a relationship.

“Dude, Y/N is with Adrian now, you need to get over it,” George said. While he did feel bad for his twin, there wasn’t much that either of them could do about it.

Fred nodded, but just as he was about to respond to his brother, he noticed a flustered Y/N get up from the Slytherin table. In all honesty, if Fred hadn’t been staring at her he wouldn’t have noticed how distraught she was. Without another thought, the ginger boy got up from his seat and followed her into the corridor.

“Y/N, wait up!” Fred called out, not quite sure what he was going to say to her. The Slytherin girl slowed down, waiting for her friend to catch up.

When it came to his and Y/N’s relationship, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t talk about, but Y/N’s relationship with Adrian was a conversation that was often avoided. Y/N knew how Fred felt about Adrian, so she made an effort to keep the two as separate portions of her life.

“Hi, Fred,” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy.

Fred winced. Up until she had started dating Adrian, Y/N always called Fred by his nickname. When Y/N started dating Adrian she pulled away from Fred quickly. He could tell she tried to make everything seem normal, but it wasn’t.

“Is everything alright? You walked out of the Great Hall a bit fast.” Fred said. The pair were now sitting on a bench in the courtyard.

“Just… some stuff with Adrian.” Y/N said, knowing that there was no way that Fred would allow her to leave it at that. There was an ever growing vendetta that Fred had against Adrian, and him hurting Y/N would probably be the worst thing that the Slytherin could do.

“Listen, I know I’m not Adrian’s number one fan, but I’m still your best friend.” Fred said, hoping that Y/N would talk to him. It had been months since the two had chatted about anything of substance and he feared their friendship would fall apart if they kept avoiding each other.

Y/N went silent for a moment, weighing her options in her head. After a short while she looked at Fred and started, “Have you ever been in love?”

The question completely caught Fred off guard. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected Y/N to say, but that wasn’t a question he was prepared to think about.

Sure, Fred had dated around during his time at Hogwarts, but the only person he had ever really loved was Y/N. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted to talk about with her, particularly because he didn’t know how great he would be at concealing his emotions. How terrible would it be for him to confess it to her while she was in a relationship?

Fred nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been in love before.”

“How did you know? What did it feel like?” Y/N asked, looking genuinely curious. Was Y/N truly asking him about this?

Fred looked at her incredulously, speaking once more, “Honestly, love, I think it's different for everyone,” The look on Y/N’s face was unreadable as Fred continued, “for me, I just knew.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “I feel like it’s all moving too fast.” There she goes again without any elaboration.

As Fred continued to give her terse answers, Y/N decided she had to describe what she meant. She had never really been great at putting her feelings into words, but she’d try.

“Adrian told me he loved me last night,” Fred’s face faltered, “and I didn’t say a word back.”

Fred wasn’t shocked by the idea that Adrian loved Y/N. The pair had been together for nearly five months, and Fred knew from experience how easy it was to fall in love with Y/N. If anything, it was more of a shock to him that Y/N didn’t say it back.

“But you do love him, right?” Once again, Fred hoped that Y/N would say what he wanted to hear. It was cruel of him to wish that Adrian and Y/N wouldn’t work out, but he couldn’t help it.

“I do,” Dammit. Y/N continued, “but I don’t think I’m in love with him. You know?”

Fred understood completely. He had loved a few of the girls he had dated, but he never felt in love. There was always some sort of hesitation that he had.

“I... just feel like I’m trying to force something that isn’t there,” The frustration was evident in Y/N’s voice. “And I thought that maybe I just needed more time, maybe we were moving too fast, but honestly I just can’t feel the way that I want to about Adrian.”

“Do you think there’s a reason why you can’t love him? You wouldn’t stop talking about him during Christmas break.” Fred said, recalling Y/N’s happiness after Adrian had asked her to the Yule Ball.

“What do you mean? I don’t think I acted any differently about Adrian during break.” Y/N was confused. If anything, Fred was the one who had acted strangely during Christmas break.

“No, I definitely recall you acting funny,” Fred said as Y/N shot him a glare.”You ignored me for two weeks Y/N.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head.

Fred remembered the two weeks in vivid detail. Up until six months ago, Fred and Y/N were attached at the hip. That’s why Y/N’s sudden absence in his life stung. In some way it felt like Y/N had picked Adrian over Fred, but he didn’t know why.

“Fred, I did ignore you, but do you really not know why?” Y/N said.

Once more, Fred tried to remember the events leading up to Y/N and Adrian’s relationship, but everything seemed normal. Adrian and Y/N had always been friends. It wasn’t strange for friends to date.

Fred shook his head, prompting Y/N to tell him what had happened.

-

It was a week before the Yule Ball, and the cheeriness around the castle was gleaming. The Great Hall was decked out with garlands of tinsel. Mistletoe was hanging in all of the corridors. It was nearly impossible to be unhappy with how much light was around., but as Y/N had watched what felt like the fiftieth person get asked to the Yule Ball, she was feeling less than cheerful.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, earning an adoring smile from the girl in front of him. She was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, as she had just been working on an herbology project with Neville.

“Hiya, Freddie, what’s up?” Y/N was excited. She and Fred had been spending a lot more time together recently, and she was convinced that he was going to finally ask her out.

Fred smiled, “I need advice. ” Y/N nodded, encouraging the ginger boy to continue, “if you were to get asked to say, a ball, how would you want to be asked?”

Y/N was practically exploding with joy at this point, but alas, Fred still needed an answer.

“Well, for me personally, I’m not fond of the huge gestures. I feel like if you really like someone then you should just… ask? I know that’s a bit boring, but I wouldn’t want everyone to be involved in my business, so public gestures aren’t for me.” Y/N was getting rambly, a clear sign of her nerves.

Before Y/N could ramble anymore, Fred was marching up the dormitory stairs, calling out a short, “Thanks, Y/N!” over his shoulder.

Although Fred’s behavior was strange, Y/N brushed it off as Fred being, well, Fred. The boy often did things that were unexplainable. It wasn’t until dinner that day that Y/N had realized why Fred had asked her about the ball.

-

“Y/N, c’mon what’s on your mind?” Adrian asked, poking his friend in the side. Y/N was staring down her plate, pushing around peas with her fork. After her encounter with Fred earlier in the day, she had been on edge. The ball was coming up quick, and at this point it was now or never.

“It’s nothing important, don’t worry about me.” Y/N had finally put her fork down, flashing a sad smile at the boy. Adrian looked suspicious, but as he opened his mouth to talk, the pair noticed commotion at the Gryffindor table.

George was ruffling Fred’s hair, and Ron and Harry were laughing. Fred had a smirk on his face, his cheeks tinged a pink color. Just as Y/N was about to approach Fred to ask what the deal was, Fred walked out of the dining hall.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/N told Adrian, before walking to the Gryffindor table to ask George about what was up.

“Hey, George, what was that all about?” Y/N asked as she sat.

“Oh, Freddie boy just asked Angelina to the Yule Ball!” George replied, causing the two other boys to start to laugh again.

Y/N muttered a “thanks” to George before heading out of the Great Hall. She nearly sprinted to the Slytherin common room, not wanting to have a meltdown in the middle of the hall. Y/N was convinced that Fred would ask her to the ball, and it stung like hell to know that he had asked someone that wasn’t her.

When she arrived outside the common room, Adrian was waiting outside for her. Without any question, Adrian outstretched his arms, embracing the teary-eyed girl.

-

“You wanted me to ask you to the ball!?” Fred asked, mentally slapping himself for being so clueless.

Y/N nodded her head yes, clasping her hands together. She thought she had been very obvious about how she felt about Fred, but it was clear he truly didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I never meant to make you upset. Angie and I went as friends anyway.” Fred apologized. He hated seeing Y/N cry, and to think that he was the reason made his insides churn.

While Y/N had cleared up her pre-Yule Ball behavior, there were still a few questions that Fred had.

“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with Adrian? If you wanted me to ask you out, why did you start dating Adrian?” Fred asked, despite knowing how forward all of those questions were.

Y/N sighed, this wasn’t the part of the story that she was particularly proud of.

“Other than you and George, Adrian is probably my closest guy friend. After I heard about you and Angie, Adrian was the person who comforted me while I was crying. I think somewhere along the lines I got my feelings for him all confused…” Y/N trailed off.

“Adrian was sort of an escape from everything. I thought that if you were dating Angie it would stop whatever friendship we had going. It felt like I got knocked off of some weird pedestal.” Y/N’s explanation made some sense, but it didn’t explain why she wouldn’t just talk to him.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me, Y/N? We’re best friends.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, “I sort of went down a rabbit hole when I stopped talking to you. I was embarrassed, and Adrian was sweet. But after it all, I think I was trying to emulate whatever feelings I had for you with him. I thought clinging to another person would stop my feelings. Clearly it didn’t work. It was just a bad time.”

From what Y/N was saying, Fred was hoping that this meant something for the two of them. But right now, Y/N was still with Adrian, and neither of them would ever do that to them.

“Y/N, you need to tell Adrian how you feel.” If the two were going to date, it had to be proper. Fred didn’t want to be some sort of secret.

“I did, that’s why I ran off actually. We broke it off yesterday, it was just a lot for me to be sitting with him today…” Y/N was slightly embarrassed.

“There goes your excellent communication skills again, why didn’t you start with that?” Fred teased, earning a groan from Y/N.

“Hey, the knife cuts both ways. If you had just said that you were asking Angie to the ball I would have never gotten my hopes up!” Y/N quipped back, intertwining her hands with Fred’s.

Fred sighed happily, “Is there any chance that you still feel the same way about me?” Fred was sure he knew what she’d say, but this situation had proved the two needed to talk more.

Y/N laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m all about you, Freddie.”

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[parkersbliss]

If the Holland’s has a sister

warnings: language

wc; 1.2k

request: @ashoup18​  Could u do a lil story where tom, harry, sam, and paddy have a sister. Age, love interest can be whatever you want. But like dom can cuddle with her (just listened to his podcast) and nikki can have someone to talk to abt smth other than golf? Just soft Holland family things

I hope you don’t mind that’s its a headcanon! it was a bit hard to write a story

a/n: I could write 3 pages worth of this stuff haha

Masterlist | Taglist

you were Paddy's twin sister

and the youngest holland in the family

by 24 seconds

Even if you weren't the youngest, you'd probably still get babied 

after all, you were the only sister. 

but being the youngest sister made sure your brothers were super overprotective

having four older brothers was hard

it was also messy 

you, of course, had your own room

(much to the boy's dismay)

but Nikki made sure they didn't complain too much

after all, you were her only daughter

and the favorite

but the boy's don't know that

when you were born the boys were pretty intrigued, to say the least

Tom was already eight years old

sam and harry were six

they all had a pretty good grasp on life

so when their mother came home with two bundles of joy, tom was shocked

harry and sam were excited

another set of twins!!!

and tom was just like 'man I didn't get a twin" 

regardless, when Nikki announced she had a girl all the boys were S H O O K

a FEMALE

Tom immediately asked to hold you

you cried

he felt bad

then he felt betrayed when Harry got to hold you and you started playing with his hair

there's a great family photo in the living room of Harry holding a beaming you, Sam holding a smiling Paddy and tom pouting in the corner because why don't the babies like him?? 

as the years went by, you warmed up to tom

he was still 8 years old then you though 

and he was always, always away

when you were eight years old, he was cast as Spider-Man

after that, you barely saw him

except for on TV

Harry went with him and suddenly, the house was emptier

with harry and tom being gone almost all the time

you were closest with sam and paddy

mostly paddy thought, because well he was your twin

You were 110% a daddy's girl 

Dom loved his boys, don't get him wrong, but having a little girl to protect and cuddle with was his joy in life

especially because you were the youngest 

so by the time sam, harry and tom were 21, you were still 15

it's safe to bet that Dom probably likes you the most

if you ask though he'll just say

"you're my favorite daughter."

when you learned to walk, you followed your dad everywhere

EVERYWHERE

he had to lock doors because of you

when you turned 13

he cried

why?

because his little girl wasn't so little anymore

Nikki laughed at him

your brothers gaped because when they turned 13 Dom pretty much told them, you're on your own 

then they all said, "to be fair, (y/n) is like five feet so she's still little."

youngest, only female and shortest

what a record 

you were also really close with Nikki 

you two did everything together 

she was so thankful to have a daughter she cried when the doctor told her it was a girl

all that golf talk was exhausting

sometimes she'd just walk into your room so she didn't have to face the boys or her husband anymore

they weren't allowed inside your room

not that they listened

you caught the other twins in their once

it was a nasty scene

"Why are you in my room, Sam?" 

"Uhhh... HARRYS IN THE CLOSET"

"YOU DIV"

"YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN"

and then Sam ran, leaving you to interrogate Harry and his intentions

the first time you had a boy ever, all your brothers had a plan

Paddy told them all about the guy you were bringing home

Tom would distract you

While Harry and Sam took whoever this "Mitchell" guy was for some questions

Of course, you warned Mitchell beforehand

"so, I have four older brothers and they're probably going to interrogate you"

you handed him a paper with all the appropriate answers

Mitchell was just your best friend

growing up with brothers ensured you got along with boys better

and bc you didn't trust girls since your brother was the Tom Holland

Tom had asked you to help him in the kitchen leaving harry and sam with Mitchell

"what are your intentions?"

"where did you meet?"

"do you have any diseases?'

"Are you going to break her heart?"

"Are you only in it for spiderman?"

"Is your name really Mitchell?" 

He passed the test

only bc you threatened to dislocate all of their noses if they didn't leave him alone

when tom and harry were gone you learned to cook with sam

which was chaotic neutral

he was a chef

and you were... trying

"pass the salt"

you gave him salt

"that's sugar"

you enjoyed cooking with him, but you didn't know anything

you tried to flip pancakes with him once and let's just say.. your ceiling and sams hair was never the same

you weren't allowed to be in the same Kitchen as him after that

"hey, sam do you kn-"

"OUT OF THE KITCHEN YOU DEMON"

"I just wanted a phone charger" you mumbled

Paddy was a different story

you two were either inseparable or could not be in the same room

someone breaks Paddy's heart? 

they better square up

someone ditches you after meeting Tom?

Paddy was throwing hands AND feet

or

"PADDY! Did you take my hairbrush?"

"no?"

"You barely have hair!"

"HEY! At least my hair doesn't clog the shower drain!"

"at least my deodorant doesn't give all the girls coughing fits!"

"yeah well, I don't spend an hour getting ready every day"

"that's cause no amount of time could fix that ugly"

"were twins"

"not identical"

"I can't believe I'm related to you"

"I know right, you make me look bad"

you liked harry the best

he was so down to earth and calm

he even let you straighten his hair once

that, however, was not calm

"you're going to burn me!"

"Stay still dammit!"

"AH SHIT"

"HARRY I SWEAR"

He almost choked on hairspray

"I look ugly"

"you always do, what's your point?"

"you're an actual div" 

family premieres were always fun

you got to go to America with all your brothers and wear expensive clothing 

like really expensive

Tom spoiled you

he would buy you the latest designer dress for the red carpet

and your brothers would just roll their eyes 

when you got to meet up with Tommy you always ran up to Harry first just to annoy him

then Harrison bc he was also like another brother to you with the number of times he's been to your house

THEN you'd hug tom and thank him for the dress

the reality was that you missed your eldest brother, he was gone for months, sometimes 3/4 of the year and you hated it 

posting with your family on the red carpet of Spider-Man far from home was like a dream come true

until they made fun of you for still being 5 2" in heels

you guys were a perfectly dysfunctional family 

but that ok bc you wouldn't have it any other way

[myelocin]

Here’s To Our Maybes | Ushijima Wakatoshi

Summary: Marriage with Wakatoshi felt natural, until, eventually, it didn’t. A story about how love can sometimes be met through those that have been lost. 

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, You, + surprise character that has no name sorry

Warnings/Genre: No warnings! Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff(?) but tbh mostly angst

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: This one is for my late mother, because I have been missing you lately. Hope you read this from the other side.

Click keep reading bc the whole fic is posted <3

You liked to take pride in the fact that most people noticed you took after your mother in many ways. After all, she was the woman who despite lived in a dying body, still had the heart to look at the world with the kindest eyes. Throughout your childhood, you watched her love bloom and nurture the hurt around her. Her hands healing, eyes loving, and heart always—always loving far too much for her withering body to take. And so early on in life, too early, you watch the same woman that you held above the universe quietly pass, an honest “I love you” spoken one last time for a man whose love never measured to a third of what she felt.

Her lips tilted to what looked like a ghost of a smile so you told yourself that you should be at peace with that. But only a year passed before you saw your father hold his new family within his arms, his lips singing praises of so much love and warmth that you couldn’t help but to feel your heart break for the woman who loved him more than herself.

That day you cry in your room, angry at the world, angry at your father, and anger at the fact that she deserved so much more. You remember her words, the ones that told you to “love someone who looks at you like they love you more than you love them”, her kind eyes, and feel your heart ache even more.

-

The second Ushijima Wakatoshi arrived in your life, the connection with him felt instant. Kageyama, a childhood friend of yours had been telling you about meeting his team because he thinks you would just love them. And true to his words, you did.  Less than six months after meeting Wakatoshi, the two of you had already blended your life with the individual rhythm you two held.

Meeting him felt natural, but you learned that loving him felt like coming home. He spoke to you like he would whispering a secret in your ear; gently. He loved you in a way that had you feeling like you were caught in a never ending high. And his eyes. Every day that you were with him, he looked at you in a way that never failed to assure you that his love was absolute.

And he proved his love to you every day.

In the evenings he’d come home late from practice, where you’d sit with him across the dining table watching him eat the reheated dinner you had cooked for the both of you hours ago, he’d let his gratitude be known to you by taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. The kitchen would be quiet save for the sounds of Wakatoshi’s chewing and utensils clinking against the plate. You’d be wearing his old volleyball jacket from his university days and in between chewing he’d look at you and comment on how it practically looked like you were wearing a blanket instead of a jacket. You figured you loved the small talk the both of you would stumble on within your day; being an adult and having your own different schedules to finish often meant that you both would just meet when the day ended.

But you took pride in the fact that the two of you found a way to make it work. Wakatoshi was a quiet man, sometimes didn’t understand the jokes you’d pull, or particularly prefer the movies you’d have on during date nights, but his complaints were absent. He’d mumble out that he liked seeing you happy more than caring about the movie, so that comment always had you blushing more than usual.

Wakatoshi spoke to you with the simplest words that seemingly sounded beautiful (from him, ofcourse). You had learned that after waking up next to him for the first time. 6ams in the winter meant that the sun just peaked over the horizon. So the first thing that greeted you in that soft winter morning light was Wakatoshi’s sleeping face inches from your own. You thought he looked beautiful as your hands trailed up and traced along the features of his face; thumbs brushing over his cheeks and the edges of his lips. Winters in Tokyo often felt too cold for you on a normal day, but that morning felt different. And that difference was personified in the way Wakatoshi’s arms somehow brought you closer to his figure, one hand under your pillow and the other resting on your hips. His smile was as soft as the way he spoke his “Good morning”, and “I love you”, and up until now, you can never truly forget or taint the memory of how that warmth flooded you.

So as he opened his eyes and looked into yours, you remembered the words your mom always told you and searched for the answer in his. And the answer came to you as your breath hitched in your throat because within the olive pools of his eyes you saw how the love he held for you igniting, flickering, and flourishing. You could feel the apples of your cheeks strain from the stretch of your smile as you felt the echoes of how hard your heart began to beat.

And in that same winter morning, the way he held you flush against him and whispered his I love yous over and over again—made the cold feel a little warmer.  

-

On the third year of being together, he asked you to marry him on a spring afternoon, so you said yes and felt the telltale signs of tears prickling in the corners of your eyes as he slipped the ring on your finger and looked at you beaming. At first you thought that Wakatoshi looked beautiful under the golden hues of a setting sun, but really, he looked beautiful because the love lit in his eyes looked and felt like the licks of fire on a cold night.

So a year later, the day before you walked down the aisle, you visited your mother’s grave and spoke of the man who looked at you like you held worlds on your palms. Wakatoshi stood beside you, in his hands a bouquet of yellow flowers, and you smiled because a week ago he looked at a photo of a smiling woman sitting by a garden of yellow and asked if it was because they were her favorite.

“We’re doing well.” You say and stare at her name painted gold on her tombstone. Wakatoshi doesn’t let the silence stretch because he stands straight and bows deep next to you.

“Thank you for raising her well. I’ll take care of her from now on.”

And he said the same words the next day as you stood with him under the branches of sakura trees midafternoon. Somewhere in the crowd you could see Kageyama smirk as if to tell you that he planned for the two of you to get married from the start, so you smile. Wakatoshi finishes his vows squeezing your hands in his and you meet his gaze—the presence of his love that lit in his mirroring the love raging, roaring, in yours.

-

Now that you think back to it, you weren’t sure where things began to shift. The nights where your husband wouldn’t come home until much later that night, you sat in the living room and let your thoughts drift. Being married to him for the past two years have nothing been in short of a blessing.

You still woke up next to him with his hands cradling your face, and he still looked at you in that soft way that never failed to get your heart going, but you felt a little stuck.

“Toshi, have I been too greedy? Am I too much?” You once asked him.

He clicked the TV off and faced you, brows slightly raised in question. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like I’m being too much.” You reply.

His brows furrow and so he does what he does best and takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and replying with, “Every day you always make me feel full.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear before letting you lean on him. “I love you because you overwhelm me with all that you are, (y/n).”

He meets your eyes and you search for the telltale lick of fire in his orbs. And you see it just barely flickering; you tell yourself it could have been false because your eyes were teary then, but the way your heart roared always left you feeling a bit unsettled. You think back to your mother’s words and try to convince yourself that this may have just been a slight hiccup in the road.

There’s no perfect marriage after all, right?

-

A month after that incident, you sit in your office during your break and pass the time by watching an interview your husband had the week before. Sitting back, you smile as his face appears on the screen after the commercial Kageyama starred in.

He answers the general questions of “How does it feel to finally win against your rival team?” and “What are your goals for next season?” with practiced ease, a trait of his that never ceased to leave you impressed. He had always been crafty with words and had a way of leaving the normally nosy reporters satisfied with his general answers.  

Though this reporter may have been a different case because she suddenly blurts out, “So! How are you and your wife doing?”

The question seemed to have caught him off guard, but he recovers quickly and answers, “We’re doing great. Celebrating our third wedding anniversary together tonight.”

“Congratulations!” She expresses, then continues, “Three years! Are you planning on any kids?”

Unconsciously, you find yourself sitting up and listening intently for what his reply would be. The topic with children have been broached a few times over the years, but he was quick to dismiss it and steer the conversation elsewhere.

On the screen, you could see Wakatoshi pause before answering, “We’re still a bit young and busy. But maybe soon, when we’re both ready.”

The reporter nods at his answer and tells him a final goodluck before moving on to interview Kageyama. Wakatoshi stands beside him and looks at the camera, smiling with practiced ease. But you know better, because your heart clenched at the absence of the flickering flame that used to find home in his eyes.

And because Wakatoshi has a way with his words and actions, you shake your head and think that maybe it’s just the camera and weird angles, so you huff out a breath you had been holding, text your husband an ‘I love you! Can’t wait to celebrate tonight.’ and continue your day.

By the time midnight rolls around, the atmosphere was calm. After coming home from dinner, Wakatoshi suggests the two of you watch a movie, so you reply by pulling out the biggest blanket you could find in your shared linen closet. For the next few hours the atmosphere stays nice and calm as you are leaning against Wakatoshi’s frame with his hands mindlessly stroking your hair from time to time. In between lull moments of the movie (that he picked out this time), you look up and revel in the few moments you get to just look at your husband. At what you assumed was a funny scene, you’d see his eyes crinkle in the way it does when he got particularly happy, and he’d smile before letting out a laugh.

And as he lets out another hearty laugh with his eyes crinkling even further you feel the love inside you ignite even brighter; if you closed your eyes you could just picture it pulsing inside of you.

At this point, he probably felt your stare getting a little intense because he looked down at you, still smiling and kissed the tip of your nose.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. I like looking at you happy.” Came your reply.

So his smile softens as he brings your forehead to his lips.  “I love you, Toshi. Happy anniversary to us.” You say and look at him with the love you have inside you—beaming, burning, raging.

But as he stares back at you looking like his love is just flickering, for now you just swallow the lump in your throat and find comfort in the fact that at least something is flickering.

Love can’t be perfect all the time, right?

-

It was around three am, and knowing that Wakatoshi was still awake did you choose to finally break the silence.

“What do you think about having kids, Toshi?” You suppose it was a good idea on your part to ask that question now, because you couldn’t imagine what kind of expression was on your face at the moment.

“I think it’s good to have them,” Came his reply after a significantly long pause; though before you could reply he continued, “Just don’t think it’s a good idea any time soon.”

“Why not?” You reply, voice a little more hushed.

“There’s still a chance an international team could scout me and if we have kids now, it would throw off our plans.”

You shifted in bed and faced him in the dark. “Toshi, you know I can’t just leave the country like that right? You know how much I love my job and life here. With you.”

His reply came out in the steady tone you were familiar with. “You always supported me, though.”

Your brows furrowed and you were quick to answer. “I do, Toshi. But when the time comes, we need to make those decisions together.”

Shuffling closer to his form, you blindly feel for his face in the dark and press your lips against his.

“I love you.” You tell him

He hums into the kiss and pulls you closer to him as a reply. It was after his breaths were even and you were sure he was asleep that you buried your face deeper in his chest and thought about how much of a good thing it was to have talked to him in the dark where you couldn’t see the fading flicker in his eyes.

Deep known you knew something was shifting, and your mother’s words couldn’t be helped but flash behind your eyes—so you resort to shutting your eyes even tighter and repeating the assurance that everything would be okay over and over again until you eventually succumbed to sleep.

For the next few months, things for you (at least you liked to think), felt slightly off. Wakatoshi hadn’t mentioned the conversation again and resumed to shifting his focus to addressing the mundane things that for those short moments, it felt like everything was fine.

But it took some time to admit that things haven’t. Because not once has he looked straight at you in the nights you were intimate. You started waking up a little earlier than him and spent those extra minutes tracing the contours of his face, but you knew the moment he was awake because he’d always shift his body, turning away from you. And you knew he was aware that you must have gotten the hint because you turn your back too.

And you were glad you couldn’t see his eyes when he kissed your shoulder to what you think is a silent apology because at this point, you didn’t want to know if that flicker had completely dwindled into nothing. So you shut your eyes and try to fall back asleep; ignoring the roaring of your love fighting to be released inside you.

-

Early in your marriage, Wakatoshi and you indulged in the habit of dancing to the music that permeated the walls of your flat coming from the elderly couple living in the building next to yours. Neither of you were dancers but a simple sway to the beat and your head on his chest sufficed. Wakatoshi often mused at the thought of the couple dancing simultaneously with the two of you in their own quiet space. You liked to think the same too.

And that night, where the two of you sat in the kitchen table with the familiar music floating in from the open window to your left, you feel that flicker of hope tingling on the palms of your hand. Earlier that day, after your routine checkup, you came home cheeks flushed, and heart happy at the news that in you grew a little life from the love you and your husband shared.

On the train ride home you couldn’t help but to clutch at the ultrasound picture and feel the pricks in your eyes because this could finally fix things.

You sit across Wakatoshi, one hand subconsciously touching your stomach and the other fiddling against the edge of the envelope.

Wakatoshi takes his seat across from you and clears his throat before looking at you. “I need to talk to you about something.”

You smile at him. “I do too!”

The slight wince from you tone breezes right past you because you look down and begin pulling out the photo of the ultrasound to show him; then he suddenly speaks,

“I think we should get a divorce.”

Your eyes snap at him and you push the envelope back down your legs. “What?”

Wakatoshi doesn’t raise his head to meet your gaze so you repeat your question, albeit a little louder. “Toshi, what?”

He sighs and looks at anywhere but you. “We’re not happy, (y/n).”

Your hands grip the edge of the photo a little tighter, but you still keep it down. “Did something happen?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“So you decide that a divorce is our only option? Because you feel overwhelmed?”

He grimaces at your tone and faces you, though you could tell he was focusing his gaze on the wall behind you.  “This doesn’t feel the same anymore, and you don’t deserve that.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach so you first let the silence settle before you grab his hands and place the photograph in front of him. “I’m pregnant, Tosh.”

He stays silent enough for you to take note that your neighbors play another slow song, so that floats through the open window again.

Gingerly, you take a breath, “We can get through this.”

“I got an offer to play for a team in the States, and I don’t want to take you away from your home.”

“You’ve always been my home, Toshi.”

He stays quiet, so you sigh and then speak, “Don’t you love me enough to fight for this?”

He finally looks at you and you suddenly want to sob. Like before, he takes your hands in his and kisses your knuckles gently. The music still plays and you think back to just a few years ago on a night similar to this the two of you had been swaying to what possibly may have been the same song playing now.

But as he looks straight at you and says, “I’m sorry.” you knew his decision was absolute because in his eyes all you saw were cinders from a dying flame.

-

So now at thirty years old, seventeen years after she left, you visit your mother’s grave and offer a silent prayer. With you, you bring a bouquet of yellow flowers, her favorite, and a story to tell. Your son, age four, stands next to you holding your right hand. You let go as you kneel down and offer a silent prayer. From the corner of your eye, you see your son do the same, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he muttered his own prayers to the woman he grew up hearing stories about.

You sit in front of the grave and begin to tell her that after you gave birth and after the divorced was finalized, Wakatoshi left for the states. Your son perks at the mention of his father and animatedly begins talking about how his dad bought him so much toys that they didn’t have in Japan from his recent visit. You smile as you listen because you were happy that Wakatoshi still found the time to be involved in his only son’s life.

He was right; at that time the both of you couldn’t meet in the middle and find a common ground with the splitting direction your lives were taking.

“Maybe there’s a story for us in time.” He’d told you as he first held your son in his arms. And you nodded, answering with a “Maybe.” Because for now, the future really is just a maybe.

Thinking back to the years you were married, he was someone you couldn’t bear to regret. And looking at your mother’s tombstone you suddenly remember her smile and final words to your father. Like her, you found yourself falling in love with a man who couldn’t return that same love in the end—and along with its end, it was okay. Because she, and you, had given it your all.

For a snippet in time, he had loved you in his own way and looked at you with a fire rivaling your own.

And you truly couldn’t bear to regret him because in the end, he had given you your son. The little boy who woke up extra early in the mornings so he could sneak in your bed and cuddle you before he knew he had to get ready for school. The little boy who drew smiley faces with ketchup on your omelet because “Mama, you need to smile more”.  

He has Wakatoshi’s eyes, you think to yourself as he looks at you, eyes crinkling from the width of his smile.

He plucks a yellow flower from the bouquet and shuffles closer to you. “Mama, how much did you love your mama?”

You take the flower from his hands and tuck it behind his ear. “A lot.”

He nods and stretches his arms. “This much?”

You peck his forehead and laugh before mirroring his stance, though stretching your arms a little wider. “Nope. Thiiiiiis much!”

He pouts before standing up and walking closer to you, the flower still tucked in his ear (you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked just like his father), “Well, Mama, I love you, “ he pauses to stretch his arms as wide as he could go, “Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!!”

And just like that you look at his eyes, the familiar pools of olive, gleaming at you kindling a fire that burned so beautifully that you can’t help but choke up because you remember the words your mother told you all those years ago.

In your son’s eyes you see her meaning, because for the first time you understand what she finally meant and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[unholyplumpprincess]

A Week Makes Me Weak

A commission for @fyeahnix tysm again for letting me write the gals!!!

Summary: In which Anita goes on a Girl’s Trip with Ramya to Gaea for the week, leaving her girlfriend at home who misses her all week. Hours before she’s coming home, Wraith sends scandalous images of herself and Anita can’t help herself. With promises of being tied down and fucked raw, can you really blame Anita for wanting to rush home?

Reblogs > Likes (Reblog if ya hit Like!) Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked. Have your age in your bio.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bangalore/Wraith

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Wraith has a big clit and body mods, Bottom Bangalore rights, hand around throat/mild choking, monster dildo/it’s a dragon strap on!, scent kink bc Wraith is a lil nasty, lots of praise! They’re in love Harold

Words: 5.9k

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A quick ’Girls trip’.

That’s what Anita had said when she explained to Wraith what she had planned for this hiatus. Wraith didn’t mind, of course, Anita had friends and that friend this time just so happened to be Ramya, who had business still in Gaea. Wraith could appreciate that, having unfinished business. That is…if she could even remember what business she might have had in the past. Something always felt unfinished, something amiss, but regardless of that feeling she had told Anita that she hoped it wasn’t anything stressful. That her flight went great and that she’d uh…

She’d miss her.

Wraith had admitted that with a soft embarrassed look in her eyes and Anita’s warm, calloused fingers tucking Wraith’s hair behind her pierced ear fondly. It was no surprise that Anita slept better with Wraith at her side, and that Wraith even got a wink of sleep with Anita tucked against her. It was only a week, Anita promised, just a week to go finish some stuff up and provide Ramya company she deserved and needed. Especially going back to a location that could bring up some not so fond memories.

Wraith couldn’t help but to tease Anita a little. Her arms enveloping her girlfriend and Anita’s chin tucking atop her head. “Who’s going to stop you from rolling off the bed, Sarge?

“I’ll stack up a pillow or two to substitute you- even add an ice pack just to make it authentic, Ghostie.” Anita teases back, pressing her lips to the top of Wraith’s head and letting her arms drape over her, rubbing her back soothingly. A smile forms on her full lips when she feels the soft shakes of Wraith’s laughter, jumping when her cold fingers slide under Anita’s shirt as if to make a point of her cold body. Resulting in a pinch on her ass that makes Wraith jump.

~Rest under the cut~

That had been six days ago. Only six, Wraith kept trying to tell herself, even when by the second day she started to feel a bit lonely. That was ridiculous, she thought. It’s not as if Anita was the only person in her life. But, to be fair, Wraith had only felt the loneliness settle in when she’d climbed into bed that night and rolled over to wrap her arms around Anita and found the empty space. A frown had tugged her lips, wrapping her limbs around a pillow instead and not getting even a moment’s rest that night.

That’s when the nightly calls occurred, just to allow them both that peace of mind.

Gaea was a few hours behind in comparison to where the compound was stationed in Solace, which made nightly calls only a bit difficult when Anita would realize Wraith still sounded wide awake at 3am. When at 10 pm on Anita’s end already had her eyelids heavy and ready for rest. Thankfully talking to her was enough to soothe Wraith and she could only hope that in turn Anita felt the same.

Anita always updated her on what’s happening over there. Ramya’s workshop was no longer up, burnt down completely in the fire, but there had been some scraps able to be recovered in the rubble. Nothing that could be used to pristine perfection for weaponry, according to Ramya, but some scraps to sell were better than having nothing. This whole trip was important for her, and Anita was there for moral support and to plan out for Ramya’s full, permanent stay into the compound. She’d already gotten bits and pieces of her workshop settled down.

Wraith busies herself at home on her own hiatus. Natalie stayed behind most times when it came to breaks between matches, she always said she liked it better in the compound. Wraith finds company with her, tagging along with Natalie when she wanted to go shopping or sit down at a café for a treat. They look like polar opposites next to each other even out and about, Wraith notes. How Natalie wears her sweet dresses and screams pastel energy, whilst Wraith wore darker clothing and leathers.

Anita gets the pleasure of receiving texts from Natalie of images of her girlfriend in candid photos, as well as selfies between the two of them. Normally fit with Natalie beaming and doing a peace sign and Wraith clearly talked into it, her own pierced tongue out and a weak peace sign to show her chipped black nail polish.

That was something Wraith had been certain to make happen. Natalie had been her closest friend since she’d arrived, and she wanted to make sure both her girlfriend and best friend got along. At first, Anita hadn’t been too keen on interacting, antisocial in her own manner, but Natalie’s jokes and openness to discuss boundaries had won her over.

Spending time with her best friend certainly helped Wraith at least get a few winks of rest in. Sometimes her mind got too loud, everything became too much and she felt overloaded. She supposes she was spoiled by Anita, able to bury herself into her chest and have Anita hum or just talk to drown out the sound. Her low voice always made her chest rumble pleasantly against Wraith’s cheek, the loud frantic questions and various lives quieting down when she could focus on the story Anita had to tell. Normally of her family, of old family gatherings or grand pranks she’d pull with her brothers.  

Or promises of how one day, Anita would take her home and she’d be given a proper Williams welcome. She always told Wraith her mama would love her, something about that always made Wraith feel at ease, despite her quiet worry of how she could come off. Didn’t help with what certain others would call her. Wraith just had to remind herself she wasn’t a punch line, but a person, and her own experiences and fears were real.

Just as Anita’s were, where she could come off to others as angry. She had her own heartbreaks to share, her own PTSD to fuss over. Wraith had only caught her crying once, watching Anita flick the tears away and steady her voice when she saw Wraith. Steadying herself in what must have been years of practice. She’d never allowed herself to break down in front of anyone, trying to save face. That’s where their communication had strengthened. Where when Wraith needed her on her mind’s loudest days, and where Anita could cry into her chest without fear of being ever seen as weak or different.

Taking care of Anita was one of Wraith’s favorite things to do. Anita was still getting used to that all, so used to being the one who took care of others since she could remember. Even when Wraith had made it clear to Anita, fit with sitting her down and telling her to her face she wanted to take care of her and to help her take weight off her shoulders, Anita had been nervous.

Wraith was still adamant on it. Including very much in the bedroom where Anita felt like she would have to take charge, a lot of times Wraith would shove her back down. Climb into her lap and hold a hand around her throat and remind Anita who was in charge. Normally fit with Wraith crooning things like, ‘Let me take care of you, baby.’ or ‘Don’t think you can push me around this time’, all whilst watching Anita squirm with red cheeks and huffing.

That was something Wraith adored doing was making Anita blush. No one knew just how quietly flirty Wraith could be, only the slightest of hints in public. She’s sure only someone with a keen eye or knew her well would notice. Like Natalie or Bloodhound. Natalie would always giggle under her breath if Wraith passed by Anita, only her fingers skimming across her lower back when she passed by. The slightest of touches always making Anita stand up straighter and her voice a little breathier to whoever she was chatting with.

That was one of the things Wraith didn’t expect to miss so terribly with Anita gone. How she laid in bed most nights and thought of just reaching over and touching her. To hear that smoky voice sigh and mewl under her touches or to see her throw her head back with teeth marks and bruises lining the column of it. Wraith hadn’t expected to like sex as much as she did, or maybe it was just because of how unfairly attractive her girlfriend was.

The way she smiles could light up a room.

Her laughter makes our chest rumble with how deep it is.

The way she fusses with her curls in the morning.

When she calls us pet names it makes us happy-

When she moans it makes us happy–

Regardless, that’s where Wraith’s mind wanders while Anita is gone.

All. All of her mind.

It didn’t help that Wraith also didn’t like to masturbate. She had the tools to do it, they had plenty of toys together, it should have been simple to just grab a vibrator and go at it. But Wraith didn’t like the action, not without something to look at or listen to- or even, hell, perform for Anita. The action wasn’t satisfying, even if orgasm was brought. Leading her to daydream about Anita and gather more and more fantasies. They were also helped and fueled by the shirt Anita had left behind on the floor when changing, smelling of her scent and sweat and making Wraith sigh whenever she buried her nose into it.

During this time, Wraith had felt like her desperation had gotten a little high, leading her to masturbation even without Anita like she normally liked. It was making her dizzy, only making Wraith wind herself up tighter each time she had her hands on herself and imagined Anita instead. Imagining even her lips or her voice had her clit throbbing.

Fuck, she missed her.

Thank whatever Maker was out there that Anita would be on her way home on the flight in a few hours, it would take her a total of six to reach back to Solace. Wraith was now lying in bed, texting Anita and figuring she’d at least try and get her attention. It looked like Anita was busy, obviously of course, she must be wrapping some things up with Ramya. That doesn’t mean that Wraith doesn’t want to tease and start something up, however.

‘Do you want to go right to bed when you get home?’ Wraith texts, waiting for a reply which takes up to ten minutes. It’s a quick response of ‘nah’ in turn, no further details like Anita normally liked to give.

Wraith hums, lying her head back on the pillow and her phone on her chest as she considers. She wasn’t usually so…needy for attention. But she knew Anita would be on her way home soon, and now she knew Anita didn’t plan on sleeping. Through texts they’d both hinted at missing each other, Wraith being more straight forward in her sexual interests in those texts.

What would get Anita’s attention now? It’s not as if Wraith could just do something sexual to her from here–

A quick glance down at her body’s state of dress of Anita’s huge black hoodie with the Apex symbol in white over the right breast and her pair of black boyshorts makes Wraith pause. Anita always liked her in a half state of dress, always whining behind her and kissing up Wraith’s neck, her warm fingers sliding under her clothing. It always made Wraith feel so adored, so wanted. And now, she can’t help but give a crooked smirk at herself.

That was certainly one way to get your girlfriend’s attention.

Natalie had been the one to introduce Wraith to the concept of selfies. She’d said it was a great way to monitor progress, using her own transition as an example. And telling Wraith that it could help her remember things and see her growth. Since then, Wraith has been mindful to take selfies and pictures of important moments. Nudes, however, would be new on her list of trying.

Wraith moves into action, setting up her phone to snap a few pictures and sending a few to Anita.

What she doesn’t see is how Anita, in turn, is in her hotel room with Ramya who is casually leaned against a wall and chatting. Anita is being polite, listening with her phone in her lap on her bed and adding to the conversation here and there where it could be. But when she feels her phone buzz not once, not twice, but three times she picks it up to check the texts really quick. Normally Wraith didn’t double text, so a triple was concerning.

Only to open the chat box and the first thing she sees is Wraith lying on her back in bed, hoodie pulled up to cover the lower half of her face and show off her pierced breasts, soft tummy with her navel piercing and the light happy trail. She’s got half lidded eyes, one strong, plush leg with dark hair crossed over the other and the text ‘Miss you’ right underneath.

Anita can’t even look at the others just yet, her cheeks heating up and standing up abruptly mid-conversation. “Yeah, yeah, I agree with you on that. Hey, uh, it’s gettin’ real late, dontcha think?”

Ramya gives her a quizzical look, quirking a notched brow and looking her over. “Ya gettin’ old on me, ‘Nita? Look atcha! Fit as a fiddle, and you’re telling me you’re already bloody tired?” It’s a tease, gesturing over Anita’s form as if making her point.

“Hey, we had a long day and we have a flight to catch in a few hours. Don’t blame me for wanting to catch a few winks before we head back home. Some of us have a gal waiting at home for us.” Anita playfully pokes back, standing up to usher Ramya out of the room who makes a whip sound that makes Anita roll her eyes dramatically huge. The second she’s out, the door is shut, locked and Anita is practically running to her phone. Feeling more like a high school girl than a woman in her 30’s.

The other two photos she sees is one where Wraith is lying on her side, her curves more accentuated and two of her fingers in her mouth, presses down on her tongue to show the glisten of her tongue piercing and a light amount of drool. Her eyes are once again half lidded, milky white and her breasts exposed still. Anita moans low in her throat, running a hand through her curls and feeling her own mouth water. Wanting to get her mouth on her breasts like Wraith liked and dig her fingers into her hips to hump against her shamelessly.

The next one is more scandalous. Her panties have been ditched; The angle lower with her soft thighs spread open to reveal the dark, soft hair on her cunt. How her fat clit peeks from her lower lips glistening with slick sticking to her inner lips and making Anita practically whimper at the sight. She could already taste and smell her all the way from here, practically hearing how Wraith would breathily tell her what a good girl she was-

“Shit-” Anita hisses under her breath, rolling her hips into nothing and having to reach down to grope herself through her tactical pants just to apply pressure with her palm. Everything in her throbbed, already aching to be home to feel Wraith’s cold fingers tug at her hair and show her what she’s been missing. Where she’s been wanting her.

There’s a scramble to kick off her boots as she hits Call next to Wraith’s name, consisting of a ghost and heart emoji. If Wraith could see her practically bouncing on one leg to rip off her shoes and pants, she’d probably never let her hear the end of it. But when your girl shows off her cute cunt and soft thighs, do you really have any other choice than to make a fool of yourself?

“Hey, baby,” Is heard on the phone and Anita’s heart pounds as she lies in bed, left in her loose tanktop and her underwear, her pants successfully kicked off. “Thought you were busy.” Wraith’s voice is a low tease, already making Anita throb as her eyes flutter and a flustered chuckle comes from her chest.

“I was. Someone was just impatient.”  

“You don’t sound too patient yourself there, sweetheart.” Wraith’s voice practically coos in Anita’s ear, catching onto her breathiness. Anita flushes, her hand already down the front of her boxer briefs, her thighs parted and idly petting over her lower lips. Ghosting pressure across the hood of her clit.

“When a pretty thing like you sends pictures of herself all open and taunting me when she knows I can’t taste her right now- maybe you’d lose some patience too, Ghostie.” Anita huffs back, gripping her phone a little tighter when she hears Wraith’s soft, breathy chuckle. It was a rarity for Wraith to touch herself- Anita is dizzy off the mental images dancing in her head of what she could look like right now. So wet, soft thighs parted, her fat clit just begging to be licked.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” Wraith starts, allowing Anita to hear the hitch in her breath that already has Anita circling her clit with two fingers and biting her lower lip. ”Think a week is too long to not have you here. I’ve been missing waking you up by eating that sweet little cunt, baby. Been thinking about getting my hands on you the second you come home- just want to taste you. Wanna make you feel good. Miss your hands on me.”

Anita’s face is flushed, arching into her own touch as her other hand squeezes a bit tighter around her phone. Her mouth feels dry, imagining how the piercing on Wraith’s tongue felt every time it teasingly flicked over the tip of her clit with a curl of her tongue. “Y-yeah- a week is too long. Been missin’ ya over here, too.” Anita manages to breathe out, applying a bit more pressure on her clit as she circles it.

“You left a shirt here,” Wraith sighs into the phone, a slight sound of something brushing against the phone that Anita can only guess is said shirt. Especially when she hears an inhale that makes her ears burn. Wraith had a thing about scents, especially whenever Anita came home from the gym. “Wish it was your panties instead.”

“Fuck, baby-” Anita hisses out, humping against her hand and letting her head toss back to expose her neck to nobody. If Wraith were here, she’d certainly latch on, leave bruises with her teeth and lips like promised.

“Wonder if Elliott will want to have a get together when you get home. Think I could- ah- convince you to fuck me in the bathroom? You could wear your cock under your clothes, only we would know. Maybe I’ll let you fuck my face after, taste your cunt and let you steal my breath. Wouldn’t you like that, baby? Haven’t you been itching to be my good girl?” Wraith’s voice is a breathy tease in her ear, not giving Anita even an inch to let her mind settle.

She’s practically frantic in how her fingers circle her clit, rubbing herself back and forth and her eyebrows pinching together. She’s sure she’s whining into the phone right now, only matching Wraith’s hitched breaths and sighs.

Anita can imagine that as clear as day. Wraith on her knees, looking up at her under her lashes whilst Anita fists her hair and humps against her mouth. Imagining that look Wraith always got, where she’d be moaning through her nose and clawing at Anita’s hips, guiding her on how to fuck her face and taking that control that made Anita shiver with arousal.

A moan buzzes through the phone and Anita whimpers as her clit twitches. Feeling herself getting closer, even more so when Wraith sighs into the phone, “I want to tie you to a chair when you get home. Want to show you what you’ve been missing being so goddamn far. I’ll spread my legs open for you, fuck myself right in front of you and you’ll have to beg and beg just to even get the pleasure of seeing me cum.”

That does it for Anita, a cry leaving her lips of a swear as she cums. Frantic to hump up against her fingers as they stutter around her clit. Wraith doesn’t seem too far behind, a beautiful little shaky sigh heard in the phone and a low groan as she must have cum herself.

The cool down is fit with them being soft to one another. Soft murmurs of missing the other as they both clean up, Anita promising that Wraith could have whatever she wanted when she got home. Fit with a little nervous chuckle of, “Just try not to kill me with your sexual appetite. I can only take so many rounds.”

To which Wraith had softly laughed in turn, the sound of her flopping onto the bed followed by her low voice. “You’ll go as many rounds as I want, sweetheart. And you’ll say thank you after each one.”

When they both get off the phone after Anita’s yawning, Wraith quickly sets up to clean around her room. Making sure the sheets are swapped with clean ones, water is in the fridge and some of Anita’s favorite snacks. Wraith doesn’t even bother getting anymore dressed, the same hoodie with different panties since her other ones got soaked. She tries to lie in bed and settle down, but that inevitably doesn’t work when Anita texts her a few hours later to let her know she’s on her flight home.

By the time Wraith hears the keypad outside and Anita’s stepping in, she hardly gets to set down her bag before Wraith is pouncing on her. She’s quickly caught, hands under her ass and her legs around Anita’s waist, arms around her neck as Anita laughs breathlessly. “Woah, woah, missed you too, baby.”

But Anita’s breath is quickly stolen from her when cold fingers are cupping her cheeks, her dark eyes being guided to look into Wraith’s milky white ones. There’s a moment passing between them when Wraith leans in, brushing their noses together and Anita’s breath catching. Squeezing under her soft thighs and groaning lightly under her breath. Her breath hitches when Wraith’s pierced tongue flicks cheekily over her lips, curling upwards with her eyes half lidded and watching as Anita’s lips part open in anticipation.

“Take us to the bedroom. I want you to strip for me. I’m sure you can follow those simple orders, right?” Her voice is low, her cold breath fanning across Anita’s full lips that pull into a small smirk at her teasing. When Anita leans in to kiss her, Wraith leans back, a smile playing on her lips and her eyes dancing with amusement. “Already disobeying, sweetheart?”

A groan leaves Anita, but she obeys, marching dutifully towards the bedroom. Wraith is sat down on the edge of the bed, hungrily watching Anita take a few steps back. Anita notes the chair a few feet from the bed with rope already ready. Her cheeks flush as she shrugs out of her flannel, pulling her tank top up and over her head with her sports bra. Feeling Wraith’s hungry gaze and hearing her sigh at the sight of her upper body exposed. “Beautiful.”

Anita’s cheeks flush at the praise, shakily exhaling as she pulls her belt from its loops. Her boots and socks are kicked off, working out of her tactical pants nice and slow just to make Wraith growl in impatience. Anita knew she’d get it for that, but she couldn’t help it when she peeks up to see how Wraith’s watching her so intently.

When she’s stripped, Wraith is guiding her to sit back into the chair. Anita sits obediently as ever, her arms tied to the arms of the chair and her legs tied spread apart to the legs of the chair. She’s left exposed like this, reminded of it when Wraith stands in front of her, moving onto her lap and making Anita whimper with her desire to grab her. Instead, Wraith grabs her jaw, tipping her chin up to look up at her. “Show me your tongue.”

Anita blushes, heat curling down her spine as she obeys and lets her tongue loll out. Hearing the blessed words of, ”Good girl.” That send a moan tumbling from her lips just as Wraith kisses her, meeting tongue first. Anita’s hips try to come up to press into her to no avail, another moan leaving her when Wraith grips her jaw a bit tighter, licking over her tongue in slow, languid swipes as if tasting her.

Anita’s hips are rocking up into the pressure of Wraith in her lap without thinking, not getting anywhere with it but able to hear how her girlfriend sighs in arousal into her mouth. Anita mimics the sound when Wraith pulls back, her eyes unfocused but a whine arising from her lips when pressure is gone from her lap and Wraith is moving back towards the bed, picking something up off the floor on her way. “Baby- c’mon, not with your teasing already-”

“I told you what I wanted to do to you when you came back.” Wraith only hums back, her panties flicked at Anita and landing in her lap where Anita’s eyes follow. Swallowing thickly at the sight of the undergarment and the wet spot on the front, wanting so badly to somehow lift and bury her face into it. But her gaze quickly raises to look at Wraith who is leaned back on one arm, legs spread open, her hoodie pulled up and above her chest. Anita’s panties in one hand.

Anita moans at the sight of her so wet. Her large clit already engorged and peeking so sweetly from her lower lips and she wants nothing more than to lick the slick from her cunt. Especially when Wraith reaches down to spread herself open. Anita also notices her black nail polish freshly applied and yet to be chipped, she can’t help but smile at the idea of Wraith applying it before she came home just to look a bit ‘nicer’ for her. The little things.

“You’re smiling,” Wraith notes aloud, rolling her head to the side in a tilt as her fingers trace from her hole up to just beneath her clit with a shudder. “Something on your mind?”

“Just noticed you repainted your nails is all.”

“You’re more focused on my nails than my pussy out on display right now?”

The look on Wraith’s face of amusement is what makes Anita break, laughing with a smile bursting across her face and dimples creasing her cheeks in that way that made Wraith’s heart pound. Even with her bound and nude, Wraith still can’t help but softly smile back, rolling her eyes and helping bring the situation back.

It’s not hard when Wraith rubs her clit in circles for Anita, making sure she’s watching as the laughter turns to soft, wanting sighs instead. Soft sounds leave Wraith’s own lips, getting off on the way Anita’s eyes trace over her body and her hips roll into nothing to match Wraith’s own speed of touching herself. A moan downright leaves Anita’s lips when Wraith brings her panties to her face, inhaling her scent and sighing with an arch of her back. “Missed your scent so much. Might just have to keep you tied up all night, baby. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind cumming on my tongue alone for a few hours.”

Anita groans, her head falling back but her eyes never leaving Wraith. Watching when she sets the panties down, reaching somewhere behind her until she finds a round bullet vibrator. She flicks it on, drawing it over her inner lips with her soft thighs quivering beautifully whenever it runs over her clit. Anita moans low in her throat in desire when she watches the silver bullet disappear into Wraith’s cunt, the cord and the dial being the only thing sticking out of her.

Wraith’s sounds are soft and wanting, keeping eye contact with half lidded eyes as her body trembles and her fingers circle her large clit. Carefully jerking it off by sandwiching it between her thumb and forefinger.

Anita can’t help the way her hips hump up into nothing at the same time Wraith jerks herself off. Each rise of her hips allowing Wraith to see the slick sticking to the chair in little strands, near about drooling at the sight of it alone and feeling a pulse of heat down her spine.

Fuck her.

Spread her open, make her cry underneath you.

Wouldn’t she look so cute filled with cum?

She’s ours.

Ours-

Wraith’s eyes are milky white with everyone chiming in at once as she looks over Anita, her eyebrows knitting as she starts to vocalize what she’s thinking of doing to her. Her voice shaking with little gasps between words. “I want to take care of you, baby, want to ruin you and see you cry f-for me. Do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart? You’re so wet, I can- ah- see it from h-here-”

By the time Wraith’s cumming, Anita’s a mess. Whimpering and straining on her bonds, her lips babbling pleads that bubble down to ‘please’s and caught between wanting to get fucked and wanting to taste Wraith. Wraith debates on leaving her tied up, just using her like that to her heart’s content, but she ends up untying her and being caught in a hungry kiss. Wraith is the one being guided back onto the bed, but Anita is quickly flipped. Shushed gently before teeth sink into her throat.

Wraith sucks dark hickeys up her neck, biting down her shoulders and collarbones where Anita swears when she gets her cold mouth over a nipple. Lightly biting over it and leaving her mark surrounding the areola, her pierced tongue leaves a trail down Anita’s abdomen, kissing over her hips and down lower and lower. Until Anita’s fisting her fingers in her hair when Wraith’s mouth finally gets on her cunt.

The temperature difference is always a shock, but that soft laughter soon turns to moaning when Wraith noses her way against her. One arm hooks under Anita’s thigh, pulling it up so she can focus her mouth on her clit. Her other hand sliding underneath her to fit two fingers inside of her wet sex with the sort of ease that makes Wraith hiss at how slick she is. She takes care of Anita like this, whose fingers fist into Wraith’s hair as she licks and suckles at her. Fingers twisting and curling upwards until she’s spread out enough for a third that she clenches harshly down on.

Her first orgasm is fit with her hips pressing up into Wraith’s mouth, her hands fisting her hair to keep her still. The way her body jerks and cries leave her lips is like a drug to Wraith, looking up at her to see Anita biting her bottom lip and her brows knitted when Wraith’s fingers still keep pumping into her. Never stilling as her tongue flicks against her sensitive clit to rock her through it and then her second one.

By the time Anita’s nice and loose, dripping wet and left on the bed rocking her hips into nothing, Wraith takes the time to fit her harness on. A more dragon-styled one with a black and dark red marbling, the tip tapered and almost sharp with ribs going down below it to a flared base that acted as a small knot. The girth of it big enough to be unable to circle your fingers around it in one hand, and the length being a total of seven inches.

The length is lubed up generously despite Anita being wet enough she probably doesn’t need it. Wraith fits between her thighs, hitching them around her waist as she slowly sinks the cock into her girlfriend. Immediately, Anita’s head tosses to the side to reveal the bruises and bite marks along her skin, her eyes near about rolling into the back of her head when Wraith bottoms out into her.

“Look at you. So beautiful covered in my marks. Do you like being mine, sweetheart?” Wraith sighs out, feeling how Anita’s hips twitch upwards at the praise. One of her hands holds up under Anita’s thigh, the other resting around her throat without choking, just holding her to feel how Anita’s breath hitches. Her hips start thrusting into her, starting with small humps and building them up until Anita’s body is rocking. One of Anita’s hands comes up, loosely gripping around Wraith’s wrist and squeezing as they lock eyes.

Anita’s eyes are half lidded, the lighting in the room making her freckles stand out even more on her dark skin. Her dimples show their existence when she flickers a lazy smile up at Wraith, her lips forming a swear but no sound following it besides a whine. Wraith’s heart twists in her chest, so many different lives pleading and begging their own poetic symphonies of their love for Anita. How much she meant to Wraith, how she would kill for Anita in a heartbeat if it meant that smile stayed.

Wraith’s hips have started fucking into her harder without thinking. Gripping her thigh a little tighter and digging her blunt nails in when Anita’s body starts to tremble again. “There you go, baby, go ahead. Cum on my cock. You’re so beautiful, so pretty, my pretty baby girl.” Wraith is spilling out praise after praise, sending Anita over the edge with a guttural cry. It’s quickly muffled by Wraith leaning down to kiss her, catching her in the open-mouthed kiss and swallowing every gasp and moan she releases until Wraith stills her hips. Cock buried deep inside her.

Once Anita is calmed down with a few more kisses, cleanup is to be had as Wraith slips out of her carefully. The toy is washed and she returns in just her hoodie with a wash cloth, cleaning up the sticky, wet mess between Anita’s thighs with soft kisses pressed over her abdomen and hips. Anita rewards her, fingers lazily brushing through her hair and tucking dark strands behind Wraith’s pierced ears. Soft words are exchanged before Wraith goes and cleans everything else up and grabs water. Returning with a dark chocolate bar and some pretzels that makes Anita beam when she sees them.

“My favorite snacks? What, are you trying to go for round four, baby?” She teases, letting Wraith hand them to her and climb into bed next to her. Her arms wind around Anita’s waist, burying herself into her chest and pulling the blankets over them both. She makes a negative sound, inhaling Anita’s scent and sighing softly.

“Just wanted to make sure you were spoiled a bit. And as an apology.”

“An apology for what, Ghostie?” Anita hums, taking a square of her chocolate and stroking her fingers through Wraith’s hair.

“For what I’m going to be doing to you all week in this bedroom.”

They both agree that night, later when they’re intertwined in each other’s bodies.

A week was far too long.

[wall-maria-fritz]

The Wingman (Erwin Smith x Marie)

Chapter 6: The Scout

Reposting this because I am officially overhauling my @levi-lives blog, in lieu of this one because SOMEONE Tumblr won't let my posts show up from there anymore! grrrr.

@levi-lives blog is still up tho, if you would like still see my original posts

THE WINGMAN MASTERLIST

A/N: FINALLY! So remember when I said this chapter was only going to be 5k words? WELL BEEYATCH IT’S 6.5K WORDS HAPPY UPDATE, HAVE A NICE DAY. In retrospect, it seems like I can only seem to write when I’m heartbroken and depressed, haha *sweats nervously at my 27 remaining chapters* But hopefully this thick boi of a chapter would be worth the wait! I’m just a little swamped these days, thanks to Ms. Rona’s world tour so updates are pretty sparse. But don’t you worry child, bc I still plan on finishing this baby. Music Inspo: Dream Sweet in Sea Major by Miracle Musical Crime by Private Island Do It All the Time by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME The Boys Are Too Refined by The Hush Sound The Other Lover by Little Dragon

The Wingman Playlist

Chapter 6: The Scout

Krolva District, Wall Rose

Spring, 825

“Mama, why can’t I go to school with Papa and Derek yet?”

Erwin whined in his little voice. His chubby little legs were swinging and bouncing up and against his bum from where he was sprawled out on his mother’s Persian carpet, with his favorite picture book of The Secret Garden opened in front of him—Erwin has always been an avid reader. And he loved The Secret Garden best of all.

Agatha Smith looked up from her paperwork. As Krolva District’s council chairperson, she’s been busy reading through district reports all morning. For the most part, her son has been quietly reading his book like the good boy he is. But Agatha knew her son, and it was only a matter of time before her little genius started asking her the curiosities which—how Erwin would say—‘bugged his mind.’

“Because you’re still little, darling. You’re just three years old!” Agatha smiled brightly at her baby, hoping it would help convince Erwin why he can’t go join his father and brother yet. Although, Agatha tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in her stomach at the thought of her son growing up.

She was perfectly fine with her baby staying home, and keeping her company; safe in her home office for the rest of forever.

Erwin meanwhile, as much as he enjoyed reading and coloring in his mother’s pretty office—with all the big books, the many vases full of  flowers, and the ever-present smell of strawberry tea—still wanted to go on the adventures Derek would  tell him about whenever his brother comes back home in the afternoon.

School just sounded so fun to Erwin! He wanted to play with kids like him, and read more books!

Erwin puffed up his cheeks, ‘It wasn’t fair. How come Derek gets to go, all because he’s older?’

“But I thought you said I was a big boy already!”

Agatha tried to hide her smile at Erwin’s quick retort. Her son has always been a clever boy.

“Well, you need to get just one more year bigger,” the boy’s mother says, as she held up one finger.

Erwin pouted. His cheeks were starting to grow red; the boy was going to cry.

“ookay, ookay,” Agatha immediately stood to scoop up her son the moment she saw him rubbing at  his blue eyes. She repositioned him at her hip, and peeked into the little boy’s clear blue eyes.

Her husband’s eyes.

Tiny drops of tears were already rolling down Erwin’s chubby, red cheeks. Like tiny little diamonds.

Agatha cooed, “I’m sorry you can’t go with Papa and Derek yet, but don’t you like staying with mama at home?” Agatha’s cobalt eyes peeked into Erwin’s. Erwin nodded, still swiping his small fists at his tears.

“How about Mama makes you your favorite strawberry pie, huh? Would that make you feel better?”

Erwin’s teary eyes looked up at his mother, “You’ll make me lots?”

His mother only ever gave him one slice since she’s very particular about making sure her boys are eating healthy.

And anyways, as a working mom, having two sugar-rushed boys isn’t going to help her productivity. Nor does she want them to be spoiled.

It’s a  different story for Erwin’s father, though. Jonathan was really a child himself, and saw no problem in giving his sons a few extra slices of pies.

As long as his wife never finds out, of course.

Agatha pauses at the request. Lots of slices meant lots more strawberries to pick. She glanced back at her pile of paperwork, and all the district proposals waiting for her approval to peruse. Agatha knew she simply did not have the extra time to pick strawberries.

“Well, then why don’t you go ask Sibyl to accompany you to pick yourself the juiciest, sweetest strawberries we have, yeah? Don’t you want to pick the best ones, Erwin?”

Erwin immediately perked up, “Yes, please Mama! I want to pick the strawberries!”

And just like, Erwin’s little legs ran him out the room and to his nanny for an hour of chores.

Not only did she calm her son down, that was also one task off her planner. Agatha patted herself. ‘Nice save, Mrs. Smith.’

~

When Jonathan and Derek arrived home that afternoon, Jonathan immediately sought out his wife, who was at the patio overlooking the garden. She was busy setting up tea and freshly baked pie slices for her two other boys, while a little Erwin was already happily scooping up the last of his strawberry pie.

Jonathan kissed the top of his wife’s sandy blonde head, and patted his younger son’s golden one.

“Someone’s been chowing down!” Jonathan’s laughter seemed to boom to Erwin’s ears. “Wow! Seems like Mama’s been spoiling you today, huh?” Jonathan’s clear blue eyes crinkled tenderly as he watched Erwin drop a big strawberry into his tiny rosebud mouth

“PIES!!!”

Derek immediately ran and seated himself down the moment he saw the treats. He excitedly took a teaspoon, started scooping himself big portions of strawberry pie.

“Hey young man, kiss mama first,” Jonathan chides his eldest. Agatha bends down, and soon enough Derek gives his mother a kiss on the cheek. Though, the kid was didn’t even look away from the treats.

Jonathan was about to say more, but his wife just patted his chest sweetly, and mouthed, ‘it’s fine.’ The parents watched their kids eat, while gently reminding them to slow down and make space for dinner.

In the middle of tea time, with his mouth full of strawberries, Derek exclaims, “You won’t belieeeeve what Papa taught us today, Erwin!”

Erwin looked to his brother in wonder, “Tell me, tell me!” Erwin caught his mother’s disapproving look.

“…please?”

Before Derek could gulped down what he was chewing, Jonathan already cut in. “Aww, don’t tell spoilers, Derek.”

“Spoilers?” two pairs of little clear and cobalt blue eyes looked to their father.

“It means, let your brother find out our lesson himself once he’s your age,” Jonathan says as he gives Derek a little tickle. Derek giggled happily.

“Awwwwww,” Erwin whined, knowing he’d have to wait a while, seeing as Derek was already six.

“But I wanna know, Papa,” he pouted.

“Want to,” Agatha corrected.

“I want to know, Papa.”

“Alright, alright,” Jonathan gave in. He couldn’t really resist his sons. “How about I tell you the Legend of King Arthur and The Excalibur tonight. Does that sound good?”

The boys cheered, already babbling how that was their favorite story, and how excited they were for bedtime. Another tactic Jonathan picked up from his clever wife to get the boys into bed.

“As long as,” Agatha cautioned within the din of giggles, “You smarty-pants go to bed on time.”

Agatha had an eyebrow quirked up, as she turned to give her husband a stern look as well. As if saying, ‘You better make sure, Jonathan.’

All three, effectively charming their mom, were already giving her puppy dog eyes. Jonathan proceeded to solemnly cross his heart, and so did the boys.

~

For Erwin, his father was not only the smartest person he’s ever met, he was also the most fun. His dad was so fun, that even his stressed out mother would laugh whenever he’s around.

And every night, Jonathan made sure to read to his kids. Animatedly telling them stories of far off lands and great dragons for kings and princes to slay.

Every night, passing on to his sons the yearning to dream beyond. To look beyond. To look around their realities with a curious, ever-critical eye.

And it was something the brothers picked up well, as the two grew up locking themselves in their home library, getting lost in volume after volume. Their fair heads joined together as they poured into a book on the carpeted floor.

Even after what ultimately happened, Derek stayed firm and true; Erwin’s best friend and brother till the very end. The two swore to defend their father’s legacy. Dedicated their hearts to finding out the truth because really,

They were still the little children listening to their father’s stories in wonderment.

~~~

Whispers and shuffling snap Erwin out of his ruminations.

Already at the Corps’ Archives Office with his father’s research journal hidden beneath several notebooks and volumes of military discourse (and perhaps a love letter for a certain bright eyed woman), Erwin hesitated at turning the doorknob.

Was some other cadet using the office today? Erwin was sure he read Derek’s schedule correctly before burning the letter. Then Erwin had his answer;

“Oh Derek, please!”

Considering his brother’s uhh… reputation, it wasn’t difficult to guess what exactly was happening on the other side of that door.

Erwin shook his head, ‘That letter wasn’t kidding. He’s got a girl alright.’

And with a smirk, he then swings open the door—

Adeline Müller jumps off of her lover in a panic. It was clear by the disheveled locks of her platinum blonde hair, as well as her smushed cherry lip gloss that the two have been busy.

“E-Erwin!” she exclaims, trying to smooth down her now-crinkled nurse’s uniform as gracefully as she can despite the situation.

Adeline’s doe-like purple eyes flitted between her lover and his brother’s knowing look.

Erwin smiled courteously at the lady, “Good morning, Nurse Adeline.”

“Hi.” Adeline gulps, as her small hand flies to hide the creeping blush at her neck.

Erwin then looks pointedly at his brother, a smug look on his face.

“Derek.”

Derek puffed out an exasperated breath.

“Brother.” Derek grits out as his eyes turn to slits. “Punctual as always.”

Erwin gestured offhandedly, a picture of nonchalance, “You called for me.” His polite but teasing smile comes back, and turns to Adeline, who has now managed to put her little nurse cap to rights on her head. “I hope my brother’s been a good patient, seeing as you’ve been busy helping him feel better, miss.”

Derek puffs out his chest at that, his Scouting Legion uniform making his already imposing height look even more domineering. He pulls a profusely blushing Adeline to his side, proudly beaming out, and “Oh I’ve been an excellent patient, Erwin. Little Nurse Adeline here has been tending to my Titan bone—“

“Shut up!” came the woman’s cry after giving her lover a good smack to the arm. She tried to look as menacing as she can in the face of all the cajoling, but see…

…she was just too cute, and the fierce eyes just really weren’t working.

Adeline Müller was already a remarkably petite woman. And at that very moment, not only did she feel miniscule, she also wished the ground would swallow her up in embarrassment.

Well, Adeline supposes, at least it was just Erwin. Any other cadet, and news would have reached her father and…

Adeline shivered, ‘Who knows what he would do to her Derek?’ Nonetheless, she knew what Erwin was here for, and she was more than willing to leave.

Derek started chuckling, and leaned down to tenderly kiss the top of her head. Suddenly, all was forgotten, and Adeline was once again gazing dotingly up at her lover. Derek then whispers ‘conspiratorially’ at his brother, “Legion perks.” Then winks at Adeline.

Adeline rolls her big purple eyes, while Erwin just gave a slow, sarcastic nod, his mouth forming an—

‘Ah.’

Before the most infuriating brothers in the Three Walls decided to tease her again, Adeline hastily darts over to Derek to give him a peck, saying that the Head Nurse will be looking for her at the Infirmary soon, which Derek returns with whispering in the poor girl’s ear, before kissing her hand.

Whatever it was, had Adeline blooming red, her eyes growing to saucers. She swats at Derek again, before flying out the door, she pauses;

“Bye, Erwin. And please tell Mike that Mrs. Kissling is onto him and Greta!”

Then the tiny blonde all but runs out the office.

Erwin sighs inwardly, ‘Even the fucking nurses Mike?!’

“Yes, ma’am!” Erwin hollers back. His face turns serious as he faces his brother,

“Müller’s going to castrate you.”

“Hah! I can outrun Corpse Cock on foot, and he still won’t catch me even if the old bastard used 3DMG!”

“She’s engaged.  To Alexei Lobov, no less.”

“And? I’m pretty much as good as dead with what I do. What’s some butterball nobleman gonna do to scare me?”

Derek swept back the same golden blonde hair as Erwin’s, while his cobalt blue eyes twinkled.

“Besides, I’m not going to go around fighting Titans to have Corpse Cock and some pig getting in the way of me and my girl,” came Derek’s obnoxious reply with his equally obnoxious grin.

Derek Smith was a man with what their mother calls ‘an award-winning smile.’  This was only accentuated by his Smith-good looks, his ever-present stubble, and perfect teeth.

Erwin snorted sarcastically, “Nice to see the Titans haven’t scared the jackass out of you yet, Derek.”

Although Erwin’s brother can be a smart-mouthed git, hearing his familiar Wall Rose twang alone was enough to bring back the nostalgia of home. Soon enough, both men were shaking their heads and chuckling fondly, knowing full well that no other man within the three walls could understand the other, as much as each other.

And within that familiar bubble of a moment, the Smith brothers finally move to give each other a firm hug.

~

Derek Smith’s thick eyebrows (it’s genetic, unfortunately) crinkled in concentration, as he was hunched over trying to discern the messy scrawl of his father’s handwriting. Derek rubbed at his stubble, a frown marking his lips, “Sweet Sina Dad, it’s like you don’t want anyone to ever read your work.”

“Speak for yourself,” Erwin retorts, a hand over his jaw, as one hand held Derek’s report up to the light, slowly realizing that the sun wasn’t making his brother’s writing any more legible. “It’s like reading code, Derek. You write your reports to Shadis like this?” Erwin turns to his brother with an incredulous look, lightly chucking the paper atop the mahogany desk.

“Hey, they asked for a researcher, not a clerk,” Derek retorts, throwing a hand up.

It was almost like a ritual for the Smith brothers to pour over the leather journals of Jonathan Smith whenever they have their intelligence meetings. It was a nice way to revisit and review whatever their father theorized in conjunction to what new information they’ve got.

The journals’ old leather smell also reminded them of their father, and that was always a comfort—like an intangible slice of their childhood.

Derek straightens up and breathes out, “Alright, give me that Erwin, I’ll just fucking tell you like the baby you are.” He swipes the report from the desk. “Sheesh, I’m like mom reading you The Secret Garden again,” the older brother mutters.

Erwin made face. “At least I don’t write like a cryptid, asswipe.”

“iM eRwIn AnD I nEeD mY BiG BroThEr tO rEaD tO mE.”

“I’m going to break your face.

“Try.”

“You sure? Because I just might, and we both know mom’s going to take my side.”

The two brothers stared each other down. Seething cobalt blue meeting challenging cool blue ones. It was an undeniable fact—Erwin was their mom’s favorite, her baby.

Derek nodded slowly in understanding; his jaw locked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Okay Erwin, low blow. But I’ll give you that.”  Derek, still locking eyes with his brother, started shuffling the papers, and flipping to the page he needs.

Erwin just gave a smug quirk of his eyebrows.

Derek cleared his throat. “Shadis managed to scrounge up enough funding to finance an expedition next month.”

“About time.”

“Tell me about it. It’s not much, but clearly enough for Shadis to make a gamble. It seems like this one’s highly classified– a job for just us Intelligence, because we’ll be attempting to set up base outside the Walls.”

That certainly interested Erwin. It was no secret that Commander Shadis’ lobby for continued (much less increased) funding for the Scouting Legion is an ongoing uphill battle. The House of Lords is simply too uninterested in patronizing a losing war, when there are people without food, homes, and healthcare to prioritize…or so they say.

And so this sudden decision to undertake such an ambitious mission when the Legion can’t even seem to return with less than a fifty-percent mortality rate, and with barely enough funding to boot, would only mean one thing;

“There have been developments to the situation. Shadis is no gambling man, he wouldn’t risk his best and brightest on a whim,” says Erwin, his eyes so wide and so clear, they almost had a sparkle to them.

Derek had a similar expression on his face, but paired with an impish grin. “Exactly. And Ilse Langar and I have been ordered by the horse’s mouth to ‘record any suspected anomalies within titan territory.’ ”

Erwin’s jaw nearly dropped. “You’re looking for something.”

“But we don’t know what that is,” Derek replied.

Erwin, ever the curious one, took a step closer to his brother, almost like a child begging his parents for the surprise. “But you’ve got an idea, don’t you?”

Derek’s cheeky grin flashed back on, “…Maybe.”

Erwin rolled his eyes. He then hastily gestures for his brother to take a seat, as he took one himself, all too eager to hear the conspiracy.

“Beginning of last year, I have a source from the Garrison tell me rumors of dear old Shadis finding a man wandering from outside the Walls,” Derek began. “Apparently, he seemed like he knew nothing of our society. Like he was a foreigner. I reported this to Shadis during a meeting, and guess what? The man was almost uninterested. Far too eager to shrug the rumors off as bullshit. And now a year later, he’s kick starting a highly-sensitive mission to set up research bases outside the Walls?”

Derek leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “You won’t get any smoke without a fire. These rumors came from somewhere. That possibility alone is worth investigating. And if it were true?” The scout tightened his hold on his arms, his biceps flexing. “It would be an astonishing turn of events.”

Erwin had his hands cupping his jaw. A thumb caressing his chin in deep thought, as his eyebrows furrowed together. His clear blue eyes were bright and sharply focused on a random point in the room, as the many kegs in his mind started turning.

A man wondering from outside the Walls. Clueless of their societal structure.

“You think the commander is hiding something?”

Derek breathed out, releasing his arms. “I think the commander knows something. Shadis’ heart is true; he wouldn’t keep information like this from his officers if it meant serving humanity’s best interests.”

And to that end, Erwin agreed. He would do the same if only to get to the truth. Surely, a man lying to pursue his true intentions is not unheard of. In fact, the Smith brothers are doing just that—committing treason for the purpose of realizing their father’s dream. Almost as if he was reading his brother’s mind, Derek clear his throat and declares, “We’ll know the truth soon enough. I’ll make sure of it. I’m leaving in two weeks, and I’ll be on the lookout for any leads while I’m stationed at base. I’ll rendezvous with you once I’m back.”

At that, Erwin turns to Derek immediately.  “How long are you staying there?”

Derek pursed his lips. “Indefinitely.”

A pregnant pause overcame the brothers. Indefinitely, or until the base gets overrun by Titans.

And as if Derek was reading his brother’s mind, he shrugged, “Occupational hazard.”

The younger brother nodded in understanding. Erwin knew. “What am I going to tell mom?”

Erwin did not dare let any emotion pass over his face as he watched his older brother’s shoulders droop just that little bit. While Erwin may be their mother’s favorite, but Derek was the more emotional of the two—much like his father. Derek Smith, brilliant as his mind may be, still operated with his heart in consideration. And choosing to potentially let their mother grieve over a son was a truly heavy burden to bear. More so with the memories of their mother weeping inconsolably for days after she lost the love of her life, playing at the back of his head.

Erwin was probably too young for their mother’s grief to have an impression on him; especially since their mother particularly protected Erwin from ever seeing her in hysterics because of the guilt poor little Erwin was nursing. But Derek? Derek witnessed his mother at the lowest point of her life—sobbing alone in her marriage bed, her dead husband’s coat wrapped around her, her nose buried in their father’s pillow.

And their mother—like Erwin—was not a woman who would easily let herself go to emotions. So seeing her in that state was its own kind of trauma for Derek

Derek stood up, already getting misty eyed at the memories whirring in his head. He starts fussing over organizing and straightening all the books, journals, and papers scattered across the table. “The usual, Erwin. ‘Derek is off at another mission. He’ll visit as soon as he can.’ ” His voice was pert.

“And Adeline?”

Derek stopped. He faced Erwin, his mouth a thin line. His cobalt eyes serious and intense.

“Make sure Adeline gets my Wings.” The Scout’s finger absent-mindedly caressed the proud Wing of Freedom at his chest. “That’s all a man like me can give her.”

Wings are all a man like me can ever give an angel like her, Derek muses in his thoughts.

While Erwin doesn’t completely approve of Derek’s attachment to Adeline, without hesitation, he clamped his brother’s shoulder in a tight grip. As if saying, ‘You have my word, brother.’

Derek breathed out a small sigh of relief, also giving a firm pat at Erwin’s hand on his shoulder. Derek turned back to the books and papers he was aligning and tidying up earlier, telling Erwin about how he probably won’t be around for their father’s death anniversary because of his rigorous training in the upcoming weeks for the mission.

“…Although I’ll make sure to visit mom at Wall Rose before I leave, don’t worry—“

An envelope slips out of one of the journals Derek was straightening. Immediately, Erwin reaches out, almost lunging at Derek, “Don’t touch that–!”

But it was too late.

Derek had already pulled the letter out of reach. Already opened the still unsealed flap, and flicked open what is obviously a love letter. Derek wordlessly held a hand out, effectively keeping Erwin a distance away. Derek’s body was turned away from Erwin, as he read what his little brother wrote:

My Darling Marie,

How do you do it?

I would like to think that I am a strong man. I’m a soldier trained in combat. And Sina knows, I can kick a grown man to his knees. Perhaps even slay a whole Titan.

But you, my lovely, you weaken me so.

You soften my heart so much that, while most men my age dream of glory and fortune, I only dream of a dance with you.

To hold your delicate hand and kiss it, to hold you close to my chest so I could gaze into your eyes; eyes so bright, they put the very stars to shame!

So? How do you do it, sweet Marie?

What power do you wield over me that I can’t—nor want—to shake off?

Forever Yours,

Nile

Erwin watched in horror as his older brother’s face went from curious, to intrigued, to absolutely gleeful.

Slowly and comically, Derek lifted his head to look at is brother; A funny look on his face.

Erwin prayed to the Goddesses he wasn’t blushing.

Oh, but Erwin was blushing.

“Who’s Marie?”

Erwin snatches the letter away, not looking Derek in the eye.

“No one.”

“No one?”

Derek was still grinning cheekily though, as if he just learned a most salacious secret. Erwin sighed. “Nile’s courting her.”

Derek’s not buying it. “Yeah? Then why’s his love letters for her with you?”

“Because.” Erwin snapped, already itching to change the subject. “The bastard promised me Ragako in exchange for wooing her with love letters for him.”

Derek quirked a thick eyebrow, clearly seeing through his younger brother’s bullshit. Sometimes Derek forgets that Erwin was still a young man– still clammy over the thought of falling in love with a woman; over wanting a woman for more than what she can offer with her clothes off.

“No man is going to waste his time writing the kinds of words you wrote for a woman he isn’t interested in.”

Erwin had heard enough. He slips Marie’s letter back into one of his father’s leather-bound journals, and quipped back, “Just like how you entertain that woman’s affections as if you can’t die in the next week? As if she isn’t promised to another man? It’s selfish, Derek.”

And although it was never said, Erwin’s frigidity and the muscle jumping from his tightened jaw told Derek exactly what the younger Smith thought—the whole affair would compromise their goal. Their father’s goal.

Derek must remain focused, or else…

And the very thought of any man, even his own brother, gatekeeping his rarest of earthly joys away, infuriated Derek.

How dare he?

How dare anyone?

Not very many people towered over Erwin Smith, but Derek Smith was one of them. And at that very moment, the Scout is perfectly fine with reminding his foolish brother of the fact.

“I’m not about to deprive myself of love and happiness just because I’m a Scout, Erwin. I’m a man. Not a martyr. That woman? That woman keeps me alive. That woman keeps me fighting. Keeps me sane.”

The two men were like a pair of lions prowling each other.

Derek continued, still seething, “With that woman, I’m just Derek. Not Sergeant Smith, not even Derek Smith. Just Derek. Derek and Adeline.”

Much like a mirror image of his own passion and intensity, Erwin took a stand against the unwavering glint in his older brother’s eye. Erwin has seen that very expression on his own face. An expression which said that absolutely nothing could change his mind.

Still, Erwin gambled.

“What about hurting her? You can’t give this poor woman any assurance nor security, Derek! Or is that an occupational hazard too?”

“That’s life.”

~

Derek had just swung up on his steed, ready to gallop out of the Training Corps compound, and back to report in Scouting Legion HQ. Meanwhile, Erwin wordlessly pulled and tugged on Derek’s straps to ensure his brother’s saddle was secure.

It was then that Adeline rushed out from the servants’ steps and into the stables to give her lover a jug of water, as well as the bread and cheese she packed. The two men have been holed up in the Archives Office the entire afternoon, as evidenced by the orange streaks of the already setting sun. The trip back wasn’t very long, but it was just Adeline’s nature to ensure that Derek had more than enough food to fuel him along the way. ‘Besides,’ Adeline thinks, ‘A man that large must need as much food as he can.’

Next to Derek’s great steed, Adeline looked terribly miniscule. Like the afternoon winds could blow her away any moment. Still, after accepting her packed knapsack, Derek reached a large hand down to cup his beloved’s cheek, the purple of her eyes especially accentuated by the fading sun.

‘She really is a sight to behold,’ Derek thinks. He was quiet for a moment, just letting his thumb caress her soft cheek. Drinking her all in, memorizing every detail, as if he would never see her beauty again.

“Take care of yourself, mignonette,” Derek says tenderly.

Adeline smiled in amusement. “Says you.” She kisses the inside of Derek’s palm, and beams up at him, “Come back to me, my love.”

Derek winked. “Always.”

Derek straightened up and pulled on his horse’s reins to settle the beast, then looked down to his brother’s still morose face. He motions to the letter hidden in the journals held by Erwin, and says in goodbye,

“Allow yourself to be happy, brother.”

Then off Derek Smith rode. Dust, dirt, and gravel trailing his horse’s hooves.

The Wings of Freedom fluttering proudly against his back.

~

Erwin and Adeline took a moment to stand by and watch the Scout ride away.

That is, when Adeline’s soft voice broke the silence, “Love doesn’t make him any less of a soldier, Erwin.”

Erwin looked to the small blonde with the delicate curls beside him.

Adeline looked back, purple eyes firm and genuine. “Nor does it make him any less of a son.”

She paused. Doe-like eyes fluttering down for a moment.

“And it’s the same for you.”

It was then that Adeline was struck by how much Erwin resembled her lover. They had the same fire within the depths of their blue eyes. The same brilliant mind beneath their heads of blonde hair. The same imposing build and stature…

The same pride and dignity in their stance.

And yet, the two were so much more different.

Derek was full of tenderness, warmth and joie de vivre, while Erwin… seemed very far away. Like he could never look around him. Just straight ahead. Eyes fixed to the horizon.

But it was that fixation, Adeline knew, which would keep this man alive.

“I’m ending my engagement. I’m choosing your brother, Erwin.” The petite blonde swallowed back a lump in her throat. “No father, nor nobleman can change the course of true love, and—“

Adeline bit her lip. “He’s just so reckless!” she grits out in frustration.

“So please. Convince him to stay, Erwin. Here. With me.” The girl blinked back tears, as she gazed back to the minimizing form of her beloved. “I want to keep him alive. Keep him fighting.”

Keep him alive. Keep him fighting

‘That woman keeps me alive. That woman keeps me fighting.’

It was almost cute to Erwin how the two lovers just repeated each other’s thoughts and words, albeit unknowingly. And so Erwin thought it only fair to repeat to this girl– this woman– who would clearly give up anything for his brother, Derek’s very sentiments.

Erwin reached an arm to wrap around Adeline’s shoulder, and patted her saying, “You’re already keeping him alive and fighting, Adeline”

Eyes still gazing out, the glint of the setting afternoon sun against Derek’s fair head was the last of what Adeline glimpsed of her bold lover.

~

Business was thriving at the Territory that Friday night. Its usual evening assortment of clientele filling up the place with the stench of booze and cigarettes, with guffaws of laughter. All the more made merry by fiddlers the establishment hired to strike up a jig for the patrons. And so besides the usual hullaballoo of the place, drunk men were also prancing around now.

Marie meanwhile, was left breathless. The barmaid grinned merrily as Nile pulled her back up to his chest from their dip. Nile seemed to have the full intention of monopolizing Marie tonight, seeing as they have been dancing and jigging around the bar’s makeshift dancefloor—a cleared floor space, really—since Marie clocked out for her break. Nile promptly bought her a drink, and asked her (albeit drunkenly, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to do so otherwise) for a dance.

Marie was caught up in a fantasy—one where she was a duchess in a glittering ballroom in Mitras, spinning around in a silk dress in the arms of a prince, dancing like they were made of starlight. Like this dingy little bar in the middle of Wall Maria was holy ground.

Although, Marie would never dare admit just who exactly she envisioned to be her prince. Marie rolled her eyes at the thought, ‘she really should just enjoy the dance, and this funny man tossing her around.’

“I’m afraid my dance card’s full, soldier,” Marie teased flirtatiously. Her cheeks were already glowing red, eyes twinkling in mirth from the exertion.

Nile didn’t dare take his hands off Marie’s waist, and most certainly never let his eyes glance away from the ginger’s lovely visage. He grinned delightfully, and pulled the girl even closer, “That so? I reckon you can still squeeze me in for the last twenty minutes of your break, yeah?”

Nile was absolutely over the moon. When Marie started laughing– a tad bit tipsy herself—Nile didn’t even let her finish replying, he heard the lilt of a new dance starting, and immediately twirled the smiling girl towards him. Marie gave a high girlish squeal, and let the soldier sweep her away.

~

Perched by the bar, sat a man whose broad shoulders hunched beneath the influence of whiskey in his system. He took a drag of his cigarette, almost grunting out the smoke, as his blue eyes followed his best friend and the barmaid twirling around the dancefloor. Erwin’s thick eyebrows drew together, grimacing, ‘the bastard actually got her to dance.’

It was certainly rare, but tonight, Erwin is apprehensive. The letter seemed to burn a hole right through his jacket pocket, reminding Erwin of his brother’s final words to him.

Allow yourself to be happy, brother.

So Erwin continued to watch. Knowing full well that this newfound interest Marie had on Nile was thanks to his letters.

His words.

Also knowing full well that he could continue to write this lovely, shining girl in proxy for his friend or…

He could stop. He could stop, and perhaps… this lovely, shining girl could…

Allow yourself to be happy, brother.

Nile gave Marie another dramatic dip, one that had the ginger girl giggling. Nile almost looked silly with glee, as he brought the girl up. And in a moment of what must be drunken ecstasy, Nile kissed Marie’s hand.

Erwin threw back what was left of his whiskey at the sight.

‘Fuck it.’

~

Erwin took one last inhale before putting out his smoke at a nearby ashtray where Marie was already busy wiping down.

Marie felt the blonde man’s presence before she saw him. Could smell the sandalwood before Erwin leaned over into her space. Marie rolled her hazel eyes, although a tiny smile danced around her lips.

Marie refused to look back at this annoying man trying to distract her from work.

“Yeees?”

Erwin playfully presented Marie the letter in between his index and middle fingers, his blue eyes actively looking directly into Marie’s, trying to catch her full attention. Purposefully crowding her, wanting to drown her in all that is him.

“You seemed like you enjoyed your dance.”

Marie finally faced Erwin, a hand moving to rest at her slender waist. She tilted her chin up, trying her best to look as imposing as she can before this tree of man. But not before she registers—definitely not for the first time—just how infuriatingly handsome Erwin Smith is.

“Why? Did you want to join in?”

Marie felt her heart do a little leap and jig at the sight of Erwin’s perfectly cut face falling just that little bit.

Erwin snorted, “With Nile? No thank you, he’s all yours.”

Marie made a show of delicately plucking the letter from between Erwin’s fingertips. She pursed her lips as she read the scrawl at the back of the envelope: For my Marie.

She peeked back up at Erwin. “Hmmm. Seems to me you’re just trying to hide your two left feet.”

“Excuse me?” Erwin cocked an eyebrow, already smiling openly. Marie notes how straight his teeth are.

“I’m an excellent dancer, thank you very much.”

Marie abandons her washcloth, and went up on her tiptoes, getting into Erwin’s face. Something sly and mischievous played around her features.

Erwin could pick up on the alcohol in her breath when she whispered;

“Prove it.”

Glass bottles jingled in their shelves.

The man had brought his large hands down to rest at the liquor shelf behind Marie; effectively caging the girl in his arms.

Marie felt like a rabbit before a wolf. Cornered. Helpless. Frozen.

Felt her heart beating a rapid cadence. Felt her eyes darting between Erwin’s thin, chapped lips, to his hooded blue eyes—darker and deeper beneath the lowlight.

But above all, Marie felt herself wondering if this breathtaking creature would taste like whiskey and cigarettes—like a brooding phantom she could only ever glimpse in dark nights amongst candlelight.

Or perhaps he’d still taste like strawberries? Like sweetness and zest and freedom and hope.

Erwin gently tucked a ginger curl behind Marie’s ear. He caressed her freckled cheek.

Marie was already dizzy from the smell of nicotine off his fingers… or was it something else that was making her dizzy?

Rough pads of fingers pressed against the plumpness of Marie’s lips.

“Then…”

The woman took a deep inhale.

“…Can I have this dance.”

It wasn’t a question. Not when he sounded like that. Like, sin.

In a panic, Marie squeezed her eyes shut; “You’re drunk.”

Erwin blinked. And like a magic spell broken, Erwin releases his hold on the liquor shelf.

Marie’s eyes shot open, as she looked up at a chuckling Erwin. He was already smoothing back the few strands of golden hair that fell onto his eyes.

“I guess I am.”

‘Huh.’ Marie thinks, ‘This odd, odd man. He’s got a knack for immediately switching emotions, alright.’

Erwin must have noticed Marie’s strange look, and jabbed light-heartedly, “You better start working again before Nile notices you ‘aren’t busy’ anymore.”

Nile! Oh god, Marie almost forgot about him! He could’ve seen… whatever that was between her and Erwin.

Marie hastily went back to her washcloth, and started wiping down more glasses. She looked around for any sign of Nile, and found him still drunkenly gloating to Mike about his romp with her.

Although from the looks of it, the man is about a tankard away from completely passing out.

Erwin was already casually lighting another cigarette when,

“Are you a pigeon, Erwin?”

Erwin nearly fucking burned himself from his lighter. He spluttered at the bizarre question.

“Err…no?”

“Then why do you have to keep passing Nile’s letters to me? He’s right there!”

The two looked on to watch Nile finally succumb to sleep. Mike awkwardly patted his already passed-out friend.

Erwin snickered, “I’m afraid that’s why my oaf of a friend calls me his ‘wingman’.”

“Ha!” Marie chuckled out.

~

Marie read her letter immediately after the last of the bar patrons left—which happened to be Erwin. He insisted on keeping her company to ‘keep the wolves away.’ As if he hadn’t just tried cornering her a half hour ago. It was nice though, the conversation was lovely while she was closing up.

And so, when she lay awake in her bed that night, smiling to herself, fingertips on her lips. She wasn’t thinking of Nile when the words of the letter echoed in her head.

A/N:I know. Derek’s an absolute d r e a m b o a t, and I love him too.

Mignonette,’ from my understanding is “delicate” or “darling” in French. I heard that was Prince William’s pet name for Princess Charlotte, and I thought it was adorable.

On Erwin’s family, a discord friend of mine actually gave me the idea that Erwin possibly got his leadership skills and his you-think-this-is-your-idea-but-it-was-all-part-of-erwin’s-fail-safe-plan charm, from his mother. Besides, who doesn’t love a powerful working mom? And the rest went from there! It also made sense to me that a man as curious and as daring as Erwin’s dad would also be a child at heart.

As usual, any questions and feedback are very much welcome!

I also have an AO3!

[pavlikovskaya]

the secret history live blogged

forever mad that i got spoilered so much on this book.

anyway hello! and welcome to this … shit fest of the secret history by donna tartt aka the biggest letdown of my life

enjoy! i didn’t

ok whaatttt the fuck. he was walked over?? he was packed and squished under ice?? WHAT DID THIS BUNNY GUY DO TO MAKE Y’ALL SO MAD????? istg what the fuck. cruel cruel fate

four against one, i knew y’all were assholes. you sounded like assholes before i even knew what your names were.

i have to say, i’m not a very big fan on the beginning: hello, my name is richard, i am 28, this is my story. makes it sound like he’s in an AA meeting, but i’ll let this one slide.

years at home dispensable like a plastic cup? fictional history and upbringing tales? [*clears throat in relatable*]

my father was mean, my house ugly, my mum didn’t give me attention, must kill someone to cope and serve the aesthetic™ of rejected, unloved child, brooding and mad at the world. got it.

if richard, plain and poor is the one who kills the rich asshole bc he’s a rich asshole, i might relate to him more than i thought.

[*slams book shut*] okay. okay. am i gonna have to google every other phrase in this godforsaken history book or is donna gonna go easy on my ass?

sounds like a university i would love to go to. oh, pardon me, CoLlEgE.

wait, they’d pay him back for the plane if he GOT IN??? and if he didn’t well then what, soz dude, tough luck , such is life, see ya never? makes a lot of sense. should pay him back regardless imo but hey, i had to pay £50 six times to audition at universities who, all six times, rejected me, so.

three days on a bus and arrival at six in the morning? i cannot fathom a worse scenario.

this prof conducts his selection on a personal level rather than on an academic one, said with a note of sarcasm? is he … you know … ?

ahhhh these saucy saucy tea spilling french people, gotta love em. ‘listen, i know i’ve only met you three minutes ago, but i’m bout to spill some serious tea which i must ask you to keep to yourself and never mention for i have some formidable enemies in the literature division, yes, my very own department, but we all actually love each other. you know, in a very shakespearian ‘i shall murder you at the end of the play but for now, let’s make sweet love under the stars as a witch friend of mine who will later murder you watches’ way. all very platonic. but don’t say a word of it.’

who do you think was with morrow when richard came to see him in the lyceum and what were they talking about? GODDAMN IT, this french bastard put me in a gossipy mood.

bunny — short for edmund…….

god, i love a redhead.

richard and me being whipped by francis and his long, flapping black coats, love to see it.

‘pseudo-intellects and teenage decadents abounded and black clouting was de rigueur’ can I enrol ~now~????

francis talks to cats and bunny yells from his window down at the incest twins to stop snogging in the garden. i can’t wait to see which one am I at the end of the book

henry and julian driving off together? do i smell something…. gay?

THEY WRITE WITH FOUNTAIN PENS????? [*flashbacks from my childhood intensify*].

i do not understand most of these references or sentences and if the whole book is like this, i will throw myself out the window in attempted suicide even though i live on the ground floor.

i have absolutely no idea what they’re on about.

hwhat

francis in black cashmere and cigarette smoke brushed past him and almost touched his arm. how bloody delicious is this??

‘give him some flowers and he’ll enrol you.’ ok, julian is definitely the gay prof everyone falls for.

at this stage, i would rater have voted we kill henry, not bunny, but we’ll see.

‘i was tired of being poor.’ [*buys a tie with pictures of men hunting deer on it*] ‘that’s better.’

‘i believe that it is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.’ donna tartt gave me the book and the reason both.

constantly chuckling at the way richard is so completely mesmerised and intimidated by francis to the point that he’ll duck into a doorway to let him pass even though they’re going to the same lesson.

I don’t know how a ‘bostonian voice’ is supposed to sound like so francis will be slightly british in my mind for the rest of the book.

cubitum eamus? cubitum. eamus? CUBITUM?? EAMUS????? OH! GOD! HELP ME! THE SWEET SWEET HOMOEROTIC FORESHADOWING OF IT ALL!!! throwback to when, in a much too similar vein, boris, upon being asked by theo to say something in russian for him, he said ‘fuck you up the ass’. my heart is racing with yearn. i can’t fucking believe i just read this. it’s time to bust out the annotation tabs again.

oh my gooooddd whAt is henry’s problem????? he reminds me slightly of number one from the umbrella academy, but in a meaner, more show-offy, bastardish way that’s supposed to showcase his superior intelligence over all mortals like fuck you, go read harry potter and chill.

‘meke (s.p.) you Wear it’? i take it meke is actually make but what on earth is (s.p.)? google gave me 238 possible definitions for that acronym and, needless to say, i didn’t bother.

i love how donna’s main characters are funny essentially bc they’re bitches towards other people they deem inferior to them in their internal monologues.

if you were drunk and ‘slam-dancing’ at a party, i don’t have to be stuck up or elitist to judge you and hate on you. even less so if you throw your beer in my face.

‘love that jacket, silk, isn’t it?’ ‘yep, my grandfather’s. totally not from that annoying girl in my dorm whose mate your mates beat up at a party last term for shoving camilla and throwing a beer in her face and who probably only gave me the jacket because she wants to fuck me, nope.’

‘let me get that door for you.’ that’s it, that’s the tweet.

when bunny said they should round up the ‘officious fags and burn them at the stake’ i yelled the loudest what the fuck i’ve ever yelled at a book. i can see now why they killed him. and i bet that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

okay, his true colours are starting to show. it’s even more unnerving when i think about the fact that like half of this stuff is supposed to be true.

called it, they’re boning.

i can’t wait until francis locks lips with richard. i am simply tingling for it. i hope he and camilla have a threesome with richard at this country house. oh wait no, they’re all here. eh, maybe another time.

oh, we finally get some juicy inside gossip

if francis and richard don’t fuck in that gorgeous immense library, i will riot.

okay, what’s henry’s deal? he’s nice now? and he’s oddly … interested in/caring towards richard? like who the fuck says ‘i hope you slept well’ without at least a little affection towards them.

AHAHAHAAHA, NOW I GET ALL THOSE MOON LANDING QUESTIONS ON THE TSH RELATED UQIZZES I STUPIDLY TOOK. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL. imagine them lot in present day completely bewildered and confused at the fact that the whole world is in lockdown for some weird fucking reason. this is the funniest shit ever, swear to god.

dogs get heart attacks?

wow they’re being dicks. that shady shit they’re doing’s so fucking rude aajksdhfkfh and to think i had initially thought richard was the ‘leader’ of their group...

okay, they’re either all into bdsm or they’re some odd breed of late vampires who don’t have much of the traits/qualities of ‘classic’ vampires as they have possibly diminished over the centuries as the species was becoming extinct. maybe witches. hm. or occultists. I REALLY DON’T KNOW!!

richard be like ‘what should I tell you?’ well—and this is merely a suggestion—, how about you start with what they’re actually doing when they’re not hanging out with you?????

i can’t wait for bunny to figure/find out richard’s not actually rich and be a dick about it.

two months??? what kind of bonkers winter vacation between terms is that???

is being constantly cold part of the dark academia aestehtic? cos it certainly seems to be.

what the fuck are these (sp)s bunny keeps putting in his letters??

i hope somebody (henry, or maybe francis? as something that would bring them together?) is fake rich too.

ouuuuu here comes the dark, mental stuff.

richard dropped out of drama to study the classics. if we were villains is a group of people studying shakespeare. coincidence? i think not. it is with dread that i think at the possibility that i might like the other more because so far, i can’t say i’m heavily impressed with tsh.

now i’m all for weird, fancy names, but marchbanks is really an odd one. who the fuck looks at their newborn baby and goes ben? nah. tom? no. MARCHBANKS! perfect.

henry winter saves richard from a piping cold winter. ah, don’t bother, i’ll do it myself [*jumps out the window*]

henry dislikes electric lights? smokes cigarettes without filter? reads milton translated into latin ‘just to see if a language with no noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose’? can this dude be any more pretentious?

BUNNY! IT’S BUNNY! HE’S FAKE RICH THE BASTARD! ALL THAT ‘oops, forgot my wallet’ BULLSHIT, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TEST FOR RICHARD OR JUST RICH PEOPLE LEECHING OFF OTHERS (why spend yours when you can spend theirs?) BUT NOOOO, HE’S BROOOOKE! AND AN ASSHOLE! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! serves him right, the asshole (that gay people being burnt at the stake comment really bothered me despite the fact that i laughed). and not only is he broke and leeching off of henry, he leeches in the most shameless, greedy, extravagant and ignorant way, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu fuck out of here.

ha! he got fat the bastard. found some sugar daddy to sustain you during your last month in italy or what?

this rabbit dude sure has some big balls for a broke ass bitch.

‘let me see your head wound.’ vs ‘your arm.’

‘that sort of tension which i, being rather more disinclined that way than not, am quick to pick up on. i had caught a strong breath of it from francis, a whiff of it at times from julian (…)’ sounds like we got another one boys, a straight dude with the best gaydar in the world. that being said, julian is the fakest bitch in the book so far.

this secrecy is killing the ever-loving shit out of me. argentina one way?? whY

lol if you’re gonna steal his book with the intention of having him come back to the apartment and see all that shit, at least don’t put it in such an obvious place where he couldn’t have possibly missed it. for such a smart guy, you sure are dumb, dude.

francis’ mother be like ‘give that bad boy a kiss from me’ and i’m like HE BETTER.

richard the worst liar. just say your mum called for fuck’s sake! you could get your boyfriend in trouble!

cheesecake cover: ‘please do not steal this, i am on financial aid.’ bunny: [*steals it*] the cheesecake: [*sucks*] me: serves you fucking right, pig.

THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDICAP. I’M YELLING. funniest thing donna tartt ever wrote.

i bet they’re all there sat at the table like nothing happened and weren’t supposed to leave anywhere at all.

called it! motherfuckers.

what the hell is going on. are they a gang of assassins or something?

richard: ‘you killed somebody, didn’t you?’ henry: [*laughs as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and how could you possibly suggest such a thing*] yep

bunny: gays are weirdly obsessed with food, don’t you think? also bunny: [*gets excluded from the bacchanal because he couldn’t stop eating*]

okay. i can see now why this book started the whole dark academia aesthetic

aight, that’s all good and great (far from it) but WHERE IS MY FRANCIS CONTENT????

going through the motions of hating and liking henry every other chapter.

everybody: [*burning clothes, cleaning the car, running this way and that to get rid of evidence*] francis: aight y’all imma take a power nap real quick cool? cool

there is hardly anything in the world i hate more than loose-of-tongues. bunny and that bitch ass hely from the little friend. god, i want to sock each and every single one of them in their stupid bloody loud mouths.

i want to know, i really want to know if there are any bunny apologists or … s…. s… [*grits teeth*] stans out there. don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, i just wanna talk.

if it’s henry and richard and not francis and richard,,,,, i will riot.

boy this henry guy smokes a lot…. more than me in my prime.

as if this dude reenacted the murder he wasn’t even present at in the lobby of a hotel just to torture henry. i can’t believe this character is still alive and has been for so long.

FINALLY! one francis moment that indicated there will be no more francis moments…. .

funny that, reading the secret history put something into perspective about the goldfinch for me.

i love how richard just casually throws it in there whenever he happens to mention camilla that he loves her and wants to kiss her and that she’s so beautiful and blah blah blah and then it’s never brought up again ever because he’s constantly going on and on about henry.

wait, don’t tell me it’s happening now, in the middle of the book! that would be most unexpected as there’s a whole entire book following.

henry is such a stone cold bitch, i wonder where they put his heart when they made him, in his ass?

don’t tell me henry went boxer dogs on JULIAN?!?!?! he wouldn’t. … would he?

i don’t know. i get it, obviously, the gravity of the situation, but going as far as killing him to silence him is a bit … extreme in my opinion.

thank you, charles, for being the only voice of reason in this madness.

okay, i understand it’s in richard’s best interest not to be involved, but they called him there to what, make him listen to all this and then send him on his merry way?

charles: well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o’clock, you hardly think of what you’re going to feed the copse for dinner. [*crickets*] francis: hey, how about asparagus?

henry: someone’s coming. quick! act normal! richard: [*turns to inspect the trunk of a tree*] [*footsteps approach*] richard: [*inspection of tree intensifies!!*]

you’re a bit late, bunny, just saying.

and now what the fuck is the rest of the book about? what do we do, let’s run, let’s stay, let’s go to the police, what do we do with him?

i love how richard describes himself as part of the process: we dwelt on it, we convinced ourselves, we devised plans when in reality, he was only there as an attaché, he wasn’t included much, almost at all in the actual planning process of it other than to give his insight on the poison route because henry thought it was his area of expertise so to speak when, really, it wasn’t and then was told about the other plan because they simply thought he should know. even then henry tells him ‘you can go now, if you like’ because there wasn’t anything they sort of needed him for anymore since he wasn’t going to be there, he was just a pair of ears. i like to think he was there in hopes to maybe dissuade them, try to stop them, tell them how mad it is, tell them there’s another way, but he didn’t do much of that either (not that I think he would’ve succeeded anyway, had he tried, henry’s one stubborn motherfucker). he didn’t come up with shit, he wasn’t supposed to even be there, i think, much less contribute in any way. had bunny not told him about the bacchanal, richard would have probably found out about it after it was already done, he was only included for the fucks of it and yet, he talks as if he was right there in the room with them, brainstorming ideas how to kill him. and i get how it only comes from a sense of obvious guilt because he knew about it, he was there and didn’t do anything to stop it, but he’s by far not one to have agreed to the whole thing or condoned it in any way from what he’s told us in book one. he himself says in the very same paragraph that he only watched. he’s very much a dark academia nick carraway type of character and i hate it. because i like him. he deserves better.

i’m pretty sure that the reason that serial killer autobiography you picked up in an airport was bereft of details is because no publishing house would allow such lurid specifications that might shock, disgust, enrage or give ideas to the reader in their book, not because the author is shy, richard, but ok, let’s move on. actually no, let’s not. you can’t expect the autobiography of a killer to only tell you about the murders, especially since in this particular instance, he was caught and went to prison. of course he’s going to tell you more about that than the killings, have you any idea what prison life is like? how much it eats away at your soul? how it crushes your spirit if you have one and how hard it is to get over? the time he spent in jail is going to haunt him forever and after such a long time in there, however long it was, you hardly think about your crime as anything but a huge mistake that was not worth the torment if you’re not a downright psychopath which, since he came out and wrote a book about it, doesn’t seem to be the case here but i guess you’ll find out all about it soon enough.

OH! a francis moment???? could this be it? please dear god may this be it.

it wasn’t, but there’s another one!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

‘it’s fun, i promise you.’ [*dies*]

if this is it, if that’s all, i am not forgiving this book.

‘i tried to pull him out but it was no good; his head lolled back uselessly’ YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S DEAD, RICHARD. [*scoffs*] ‘uselessly’

i wish i held any of my teachers and professors in at least half the high regard henry holds julian. i also wish they were half as competent and passionate about teaching as julian.

I DON’T BELIEVE ‘HE WAS JUST THERE’. IT’S BORIS AND THEO AT 6 AM IN THAT NEW YORK BAR ALL OVER AGAIN. HE’S ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE RICHARD WENT ALL ‘YOU’RE NOT HOT’ ON HIS ASS AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE. if they don’t kiss again—

i can’t help but admire the way they communicate sensitive information to each other in ancient greek, they sound like characters from jane austen novels while talking about drugs and saving face from tabloids and gossip, it’s rather amazing.

quite pointless to go through all that trouble to hide the cigarettes and deny having been smoking when the smell will be there no matter what and she’ll know for sure. i swear, all these seemingly smart ass people are actually idiots

my question is why would anyone, drunk or not, for any reason, leave the top down in the rain? why? what possible pleasure could one get from driving in the middle of the rain with rain actually pouring down on them?

isn’t linoleum a bit tacky for a house that looks like it’s been in architectural digest?

why is charles so on edge? why are they all always hiding??? camilla and her late night 3 am phone calls, her secret phone code with henry, charles mysteriously going out for cigarettes so brusquely without a word in the middle of the night and refusing to talk about it, what are they all always hiding?! nobody trusts one another with anything, it’s very annoying, to be honest. aren’t they supposed to be super best friends? you’d think that after a bacchanal and a double homicide, you wouldn’t keep secrets from one another, but i guess not.

ah, shame. was kind of hoping for some sneaky richard/francis basement action, but alas. what’s their ship name anyway, richis?

i just spoilered myself again, twice, by going through the tsh tag on tumblr and then looking for francis/richard fanfics on ao3 and finding out that francis marries? gets with? a girl who’s apparently called fucking priscilla. donna tartt really has a knack for weird fancy names, huh? i’m here for it tbh

richard you fucking snitch! you had one job!!!!!!

why the fuck are they still keeping him in the dark about shit? henry and charles quarrelled and charles is in jail and henry still won’t tell him what’s so bad about it and why he wants richard to handle all this shit instead of him and why bunny’s murder still matters and why why just why are they still using him as their pawn??

seriously, this exchange was about the worst they’ve had so far. he himself knows it: ‘there was a silence during which I felt acutely the hopelessness of ever trying to get to the bottom of anything with henry. he was like a propagandist, routinely withholding information, leaking it only when it served his purposes.’ THEN WALK AWAY. SAY NO. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN. FUCKING—UGH!!!!!!!

they’re all so shamelessly using him… i can’t read. it’ll kill him, one way or another.

these ungrateful little shits i swear to god. richard bails him out, he’s all thankful and sweet when he wants him to do ‘this one little favour’ of taking him to his francis’ house so he can break in and when richard’s like i don’t have a car, he immediately turns sour and passive aggressive like you know what?! richard hasn’t slept all night and all morning waiting for your ass to go to court cos you were a drunken idiot and decided YET AGAIN that driving in that state is a great idea so he can bail you out and when you are finally out, you start being fussy and then it’s all ‘right. thanks a lot’??? richard doesn’t fucking need this shit! y’all are horrible friends. he’s not your bloody servant. how about you take that stick and privilege out of your asses and start treating him a bit more kindly, huh???

‘henry made me swear not to tell.’ WHAT. WHAT. BITCH, GET THE FUCK OUT.

this is by far the most toxic friendship i’ve ever heard of.

oh wow that kiss was hot. i thought it was just a speculation that they were incestuous with each other, but i-i guess not.

FINALLY it gets interesting. Mr Abernathy spilling some piping hot tea mmm

he literally just said i’d sleep with you if you got drunk enough to let me. oh dear god help me.

oh fuck it got sad. It’s patrick and brad all over again ugh always happens to the best of gays

finally richard my boy starts hating them, as he should. except francis, you’re a dick in that respect. he’s only joking for fuck’s sake, don’t get all butthurt, jesus. sensitive much?

uuuuuu tunts Tunts TUNTS! shit is hitting the fan. henry, henry, henry, our ‘golden boy’. nothing but a crook himself, the motherfucker. i’ve been waiting for this reveal since the beginning of the fucking book. if they gang up on him and kill him, i will never stop laughing.

it’s as if he’s begging to be excluded and hated, i swear. why is he being such a prick? does he love her? is that it? then there are a BILLION other ways to go about it, he doesn’t have to be such a shady bitch!! besides, wasn’t he in cahoots with julian?

‘i was depressed, i thought if i slept here it might make me feel better.’ that’s so precious tho….. funny, but precious. such child-like innocence in this grown ass intoxicated man, i melt.

clever, luring him out of the playground under the false pretext of a drink when he’s had plenty. think like a drunk

the only consistent, recurring and ever-present elements in donna tartt’s books are the hors d’oeuvres.

it’s so cute how charles needs him, i—

girls be like: watching a film, listening to a podcast, talking on the phone, having dinner, figure painting, filing nails, writing an essay and doing their makeup all at the same time

this so called love he feels for camilla is so unfounded and feeble and just … it seems so out of the fucking blue every single time he mentions it, i can’t read this shit. IT’S SO SEE-THROUGH!!

okay WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST READ. WHAT. THE ACTUAL. MOTHERFUCKING. FUCK. one second he’s ‘i love her so much’ the next he wants to strangle and rape her?????????????? i have zero goddamn words. i am fucking speechless. i don’t think i have ever been this confused at something since i watched the turning. i don’t think you realise quite how done i am with this fucking book at this point.

i think i do hate henry more than bunny and i’m afraid i’ll like if we were villains better.

richard: [*takes sleeping pills*] also richard: [*surprised he can’t keep up with the film he started watching after taking sleeping pills*]

‘look,’ said francis. ‘let’s just go, if we leave now we can be in montreal by dark. nobody will ever find us.’ vs ‘well, i’m not going,’ said boris serenely. ‘fuck that, i’m running away. do you want to come?’

this henry bitch is the most difficult piece of shit i’ve ever fucking encountered. ‘you mean, it’s something you need to tell me in private?’ oh FUCK OFF AND STEP OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. IT’S ONE THING I ASK OF YOU, YOU TWAT.

huh, i thought he was doing this shit on purpose, leaving the page face down on the table so that julian could see it, i thought it was some sick twisted plan of his.

lmao called it. everybody saw through julian’s façade except richard and the others and i completely understand. in a fashion much like julian’s, i think he knew that, he saw it, but just chose to ignore it because the image he posed and richard himself constructed of him in his mind was much more favourable to what he really was. i mean, fuck, who the fuck says ‘i hope we are all ready to leave the phenomenal world and enter into the sublime’ with their whole chest and mean it?

if you think he’s not coming, why sit in silence staring out the window, ignoring everyone and wasting everybody’s time instead of telling them from the very start this piece of information you have on hand that could save everybody a lot of trouble, time and overthinking? why be all mysterious and enigmatic about it? just tell them from the start, you’re not in a film for fuck’s sake……..

charles, one of the four of them (henry, camilla, julian and himself) might be the one i despise the least, almost like had he not been so brutal towards camilla,,,, but i don’t know if i can trust her, that whole scene seemed … staged somehow. i don’t know. i don’t know

didn’t expect henry would turn on julian too though. first real thing he’s done all book.

agatha

christie

writes

good

mysteries.

richard does seem like the type of fellow who would grow up in a household where his dad would strike his mum for no fucking reason.

okay so did henry punch him for that comment or not? what was all that father beating mother bit for?

#boysweekendinthecountry! 🤪 #partytime! #ignoringourproblems! #woooo!!!

oh my fucking god chARLES!!!

yes, henry, great, brilliant, fucking splendid idea to antagonise the man pointing a gun at you.

MY PAUL SMITH SHIRT!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHASFSHDGFDK

i love how absolutely nobody noticed fucking richard BLEEDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

‘expected everyone to stop and look at me. no one did.’ and they never will. that’s your whole friendship summed up in two lines. you don’t matter to them, you never did, you’re absolutely unimportant. just a tool, a pawn, a nobody. sorry you had to get shot to realise that.

‘’he shot me.’ somehow, this remark did not elicit the dramatic response i expected. before i had the chance to elaborate—’ ELABORATE WHAT? ELABORATE WHAT?! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO SAY!! GOD, this hurts to read. this angers me beyond words, but it also fucking hurts so bad…

nothing, not even getting shot can make richard lose his wit

disGUSTING henry and camilla moment. I HATE THEM

oh shit. did not see that coming. well, glad that’s over.

ugh, time to read how francis got hetero married :\

[*chokes*] DUE TO THE VERY EXCELLENT EXCUSE OF HAVING A GUNSHOT WOUND IN THE STOMACH I DIDN’T TAKE MY FRENCH EXAM YAY!!! god, i fucking love Richard.

the thing is, right, i read that line, ‘i managed to get out of taking my french exams the next week’ about three or four times and somehow, the following line or even the words ‘gunshot wound’ never made it to my eyes! i don’t understand how! but i’m completely happy about that given the fact that i spoiler myself on every single book i read by reading ahead like an idiot..

how much do you want to bet that it was the inn keep who called the ambulance and not those fuckers? because of course henry, dead henry’s more important than slowly dying, almost dead but not quite richard.

despite everything, it sounds like he had a nice summer in brooklyn. good for him. god knows he deserved it, the poor guy.

yeah no, fuck henry’s post-mortem hero narrrative.

lol, at least he got a nice car out of it. this book shows me once again that things happen just the way they should happen.

OH MY FUCKING GOD NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT READ. I DO NOT SEE. I REFUSE TO COMPREHEND THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION.

i will not say a WORD on this, much less his letter. i am hurt, i am wounded, i am grieving, my head is full of thots and i cannot speak. i died on this bed.

ugh [*rolls eyes*] this fucking guy again with his sudden, out of my ass declarations of love towards camilla. JUST GIVE IT UP ALREADYYYYYYYY!!! TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES!!! (francis) i wouldn’t be surprised if she was married or engaged and just didn’t bother to mention it ‘because he never asked’ or some bullshit excuse like that.

I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY [*deep breath*] I FUCKING HATE HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s telling me about all these people and where they ended up after graduation but not only do i not give a single solitary fuck, i actually don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about?? like who the fuck is bram guernesnesnica? rooney wayne? what the fuck do i care what jack jud and frank did?

the only people i do remotely care about are the professors (the saucy french teacher and the boring, senile dude who wouldn’t shut up and who kept referring to richard as ‘jerry’ in his grad school recommendations letter ahahah that is the content i signed up for, not dumb and dumber’s bar or whatever) and the cat charles left at francis’ country house who lives in a ten fucking room apartment in boston.

love how ionic the whole marion storyline turned out to be. marred another corcoran who looked just like bunny and had a daughter who, despite having her and his mother’s name ended up being nicknamed also bunny. i’m sorry, i just—i have to laugh.

[*slams fists on the table*] THE AGENTS??? YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME ABOUT THE BLOODY FBI AGENTS???!!!!!! CAN THIS BOOK PLEASE JUST FUCKING END ALREADY??????!!!!!!!!

a dream. a dream. if it’s a dream of henry i will personally shoot you and make sure i aim a little higher than your abdomen this time.

[*shoots the book*]

oh, you died and suddenly you have a sense of humour?

‘that information is classified’ [*shoots a torpedo at the book*]

‘are you happy?’ / ‘not very.’ vs ‘are you happy here?’ / ‘not particularly.’

okay. so. final thoughts: fuck this book.

good night

[accsta-blog]

 hello  friends  ,  i’m  admin  ris  but  you  can  call  me  that  Big  Dumb  if  you  want  !  i  play  TWO  characters  ––  my  little  demon  RONAN  ACOSTA  and  my  sweet  forrest  princess  COSIMA  CHASE  who’s  on  her  own  main  blog  ,  so  i  will  probably  double  like  everything  possible  bc  .......  support  and  love.  anyway  !!!  below  you  will  find  some  information  about  ronan  including  wanted  connections  ,  but  feel  free  to  LIKE  THIS  if  you’d  like  me  to  come  plot  w/  you  or  just  feel  free  to  slide  into  my  dms  +  u  get  bonus  points  if  u  tell  me  a  joke  :~)

shawn mendes. twenty-two. cismale. he/him. shawn mendes. | i can’t believe i just saw RONAN ACOSTA walking out of cadence records. they’re a single POP/POP ROCK artist who’s been in the industry for SIX YEARS. the tabloids love to focus on their WITHDRAWN nature , but they’re also pretty CHARISMATIC and they seem to give off a vibe that reminds people of SUNGLASSES & BALL CAPS TO AVOID THE CAMERA , SURPRISED REACTIONS , & HIDDEN CHAOTIC BEHAVIOR. | admin ris. 21+. est. she/her.

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬.

  loose,  un-gelled  curls  ,  hidden  hickeys  ,  hiding  from  paparazzi  ,  sweet,  completely  faked  smiles  ,  a  room  full  of  laughter  ,  bad  boys  who  look  like  good  boys  ,  broken  hearts  ,  hidden  agendas  ,  honest  moments  behind  closed  doors.

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬.

 full  name  :  ronan  mateo  acosta  /  orientation  :  pansexual  /  style  :  relaxed.  jeans  ,  tight  fitted  t-shirts  ,  put  together  but  casual.  /  family  :  angelo  &  cynthia  acosta  ,  musicians.  /  tattoos  :  butterfly  on  shoulder  ,  guitar  on  foreman  inside  ,  family  surname  on  ankle  ,  song  lyrics  (  his  moms  )  foreman  inside  ,  traveling  music  notes  around  wrist  ,  heart  outline  side  of  middle  finger. /   hometown  :  los  angeles  ,  ca.  /  zodiac  :  aries.

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲.

○ ronan grew up in the public eye , though his parents attempted to keep him very humble and out of the spotlight until he was ready. his parents are both famous musicians , his dad originating in protugal and his mom in the states , he moved to los angles after he met her and it was a true , sappy love story. they really did attempt to keep ronan’s life private but he was always Known like any famous celebrity’s child.  ○ ronan was a pretty SWEET as a kid –– though he was definitely spoiled. his parents thought that giving him everything he wanted would keep him ... behaved ? i don’t know why they thought that. but they did. give the boy what he wants and he’ll listen to us. and at first , it was working because he was still young + didn’t have his own access to their money. yet. however , as he started getting more and more , he was getting more and more stingy + pretentious.  ○ and then ronan starts to want to do his own music. he learned guitar , piano , and even the violin and begins to find his voice. as his voice finds itself and he finds his love for much , ronan & lachlan forms –– a duo group via youtube with his best friend when ronan was 15 going on 16. because of famous background , they quickly took off and because of how ronan’s parents wanted him to be seen , ronan was formed into a very pure + angelic mold and his best friend was pulled into this mold too. except , things didn’t work out being forced into a kid friendly mold for the duo as they got older , and they split about three years ago.  ○ after the split of ronan & lachlan , ronan began putting out his own music and that’s when Demon Ronan really comes out –– except , his music is mostly pg and clean and appeals to a Youngerish crowd , and he’s still keeping up with the same imagine as he was before. ronan’s music basically matches shawns with the exception of some songs + a little bit of an added rock element ; although my favorite song to put to ronan is nervous bc it’s literally the OPPOSITE of him + one of his biggest hits. his image and sound is very sweet and pure with a soft hint of ... thirst trap thrown in to keep people interested. at first , ronan didn’t really mind this and then after the split of his group + finding himself as a teen , ronan realized he REALLY didn’t fit the mold the world wanted him to.  ○ so you’d think that he’d start emerging as his true self , except his manager urges him he needs to keep him imagine pure or it might crash his career –– he’s popular to younger fans and can use this image to support things he cares about and to stay relevant. however , as time goes on , ronan just gets worse. partying , drinking , all that fun stuff all while hiding from any camera that comes in the room. it begins to be a game for him –– how long can he keep this up ? rip to all this team who had to clean up after him. gd mess. ○ anyway ! the general SUM UP of ronan is that on the outside , he’s PURE and sweet and kind with a simple addition of towering 6′2 height and perfectly sculpted arms + abs and thanks to the occasional wet shirt , the people get to see just enough to toggle the line between innocent and thirst trap. it’s definitely a thirst trap. don’t let him fool you. however , when you see the real ronan he’s a MESS who’s partying on private jets , getting drunk in the middle of the day , and having his messes cleaned up for him constantly.  ○ personality wise , ronan is FUN , no matter which side of him you may know. if you’re introduced to the fake , public eye ronan –– he’s sweet and kind and funny , but if you really known ronan –– he’s flirtatious , Wild , always offering unsolicited advice , a Pure Comedian , and a hot freaking mess and u know what ? he’s the worlds hot mess. 

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.

○ ronan is publicly pansexual and talks about it openly on social media & is happily an ally and support to his lgbt+ fans. this was something his manager advised against and then he was spotted kissing a Boy and took to an interview to talk about it and regularly advocates for lgbt+ youth. though there was some backlash against this , he was still coming out of his duo phase and highly regraded as a good role model + used his platform to advocate which just Progressed his pure image. it’s the one thing that’s not fake tbh.

○ ronan also talks openly about current events + issues but is careful to make sure he was research and doesn’t heavily share too much across platforms but does like to show his support for certain things. it almost feels like it would be part of his Sweet facade but he really does care about some things. believe it or not.  ○ ronan has very few close friends , though he was have some people who completely call him out on his bullshit. it’s really a surprise that the world still thinks ronan is so pure and angelic because this boy is .... a freaking ........ mess. he’s got PLENTY of party friends who happily don’t give a shit about his hannah montana style life but not many friends who .... do care that he’s a messy lil demon who’s fooling the whole world.  ○ he comes off as super humble but this boy ..... is not. not humble at all. name brand everything. best everything possible.  ○ he's actually not a terrible person despite being a demon , he’s just got super chaotic energy but hopefully like ur chaotic fav chaotic energy :~) ○ in my head , ronan is slowly starting to chip away at his innocent front –– partly intentionally + unintentionally. his new music is less innocent + his thirst traps are getting Thirstier and people are starting to realize the make up that’s always caked onto his neck and the glazed look in his eyes in the middle of the day. he can’t really get away from people noticing. his manager is going through extremes to preserve his imagine instead of having his morph into a new one. 

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

○ he’s got a pr relationship / stunt wanted connection on the main. they are currently “ dating ” and honestly it’s hilarious. pls take this so ronan can text them stupid fake couple things and they can laugh n be dumb together. i do feel like they’re surprisingly close + this muse backs ronan up when he’s almost caught being chaotic. they got together on the nudge of ronan’s management team - why your muse as chosen can be discussed ! but they help better his image + they so really Look like a couple but they’re just friends :~)  ○ other things include fwb , exes , friends , party/bad influence friends , etc. specially , i would love a close friend , the closest thing ronan would say to best friend. they get him and his chaotic energy. they just get each other and he’s comfortable around them.  ○ would also really love some type of will they / won’t they who likely thinks ronan is in an actual relationship but they also know ronan is a hot mess and this person is NOT his type + they suspect it’s a stunt but he refuses to tell them the truth. 

[eloqvents]

♡  ◟ °  ›   lucy boynton, female, she/her, twenty three   ⋯   ❛   thank you for applying to SEX AND THE TITTY, ELODIE MONET ! before we start this job interview, i would just like to go over a few questions. you said your best attribute was DEBONAIR, right ? well, word around town is that some people find you to be a bit more GUARDED… but, nevermind that. i’m actually more curious about whether you were actually caught DRUNKENLY SERENADING OUTSIDE OF YOUR EX’S HOUSE AT 3 AM last year ? oh, you were ? that’s unfortunate. on the bright side, i heard that you excel at COOKING …. so that’s cool ! now, one more question … your last manager said that you’re hiding THAT YOU PRETENDED TO GO TO REHAB TWO YEARS AGO BECAUSE YOU WERE PREGNANT, is that true ? — haha , just kidding ! they didn’t say that, i just read that about you online . anyway , you got the job ! ❜ 】 eri, pst, she/her. 

hello all ! it’s eri once again with another muse bc we just can’t get enough. anyway, please excuse how shitty this intro is going to be bc i am lacking sleep.

ok to start off, her parents are loaded so she’s very wealthy. original from la, her father was a well-known producer and her mother a stay at home mom. long story short, their marriage was a far cry from a happily ever after. growing up watching their parents fall apart, elodie and her brother latched onto each other and he remained her wall. it was painfully obvious however that their father favored the other, whether it be because he was the only son, or how musically and theatrically inclined he was... and she found herself thrown off to the side much like her mother, except a lot stricter rules set in place that she found herself easily breaking. curfew? forget it. no boys? she was sneaking them in all too often.... but even more easily having her girl “friends” over for sleepovers with no questions asked. she began resenting her father early on and it only grew the more rules, until finally she threw all caution to the wind and fell off the expected monet route.

by 15 she was known as the party girl. she did her school work most of the time, kept good enough grades to keep her parents off at least that aspect of her life. going out every weekend, never coming home on time or just refusing to answer her phone. she was a hellion, with no cares in the world, and she simply lived with no worries and absolutely no care or respect toward her parent's wishes. they virtually gave up on controlling their daughter by the time she was 17, clearly making her own choices and took no bother in chastising her as they knew their efforts would get them nowhere.

despite the dysfunction of the family, they did vacation to stone harbor every summer which had become some of elodie’s favorite memories of her younger years ( i would love any plot referencing her coming back every year and what not ok )

at 18 she had a choice. college, or follow her heart. new york was calling, as much fun as she had in la... it just wasn’t quite it. and new york was so exciting. the following summer she found herself back in stone harbor, unable to resist the tradition but instead opting to stay the summer..... except she never left. with all the fond memories she held in the place, and finally being far away from her family, she felt like she’d found herself. or at least the closest to home she’d ever had.

we gonna skip ahead to her getting pregnant three years ago, which is something she told no one (not even the potential father). the day she found out she was packing her bags and leaving stone harbor with no word, instead of leaving a note for her roommate ( plot wanted ) at the time, and sending out a group text explaining she had decided to go to rehab. it seemed like a good excuse, not a complete lie considering she did not touch any alcohol or substance during her pregnancy. she instead went and stayed with her aunt and uncle in london.

she went back and forth on what she wanted to do, spending her days swaying back and forth between keeping the baby and starting a fresh life or putting it up for adoption. but after a particularly painful depressive episode, she decided for the safety of both of them she had to give her baby girl up. this is when her aunt and uncle said they would take the baby in, not wanting to separate family, and it is a secret she’s kept in to this day.

coming back from rehab, she had changed. at first cold, extremely depressed, and she wanted to stay away from her prior addictions but within a few weeks she was right back into it. drinking nearly daily, taking whatever pills or drugs were offered, although she was much more cautious when it came to sex. becoming quite a bit pickier when it comes to men, however her love for women only seemed to grow.. likely due to the fact she could not get pregnant that way.

she’s had her ups and downs, about six months ago she came back from a few months at rehab once again after an especially harsh bender that landed her in the hospital. sobriety has continuously and still continues to be a struggle for her. she swore up and down that she wanted the help after begging her parents to pay ( not wanting to dip into her own hefty inheritance ) for her to go back, although within a month she found herself dabbling in other substances, occasionally taking a little too many of her medications at once, and having a drink, or two, or three....

while she was staying with her aunt in france, she spent a lot of time cooking with the elder woman and it became the most therapeutic thing to her... at least without getting high.. it’s become one of the only things that can genuinely distract her, although she does become a master chef when you add a little pot to the mix, but she hardly counts that against sobriety anyway.

personality-wise elodie doesn’t really hold back her opinion, and although she won’t go out of her way to avoid stepping on toes, she will try to make things as least confrontational as possible. in her opinion, life has shoved her around enough and she prefers to not allow anyone the excuse to do it too. but........ in those cases she will probably show her temper and make sure people know she isn’t going to be walked all over. she’s very upbeat, tries her hardest to be excited for life each day ( or pops an extra xanny if it’s a particularly hard day ). however.. her bad days are bad. if she’s down enough its nearly impossible to get her out of bed for anything other than a shower. some are harder than others, especially nearing the birthdate of her daughter delaney ( 2 currently ). 

a few more facts bc this is long uh: she writes a letter every day to her daughter and saves it in a special box kept secret in her room. she dabbles in poems and other types of prose, and has a goal of one day writing and illustrating her own childrens book in dedication to her daughter. she has a lot of money and could technically afford to not work, however she took a bartending job at sex and the titty for side cash and to send a monthly check to help support her daughter. and laaaaastly, she is kind of a hopeless romantic and loves romcoms way too much. she is 100% the type that believes very strongly in love but just ... sucks at it. she’s scared to commit herself but she’s also not afraid to shout from the rooftops ??? rn she’s trying to work on herself so 

oh and here is a playlist and pinterest for her even tho she wasn’t here for the task:)))

connection ideas ( plots page currently in progress )

an ex who she serenaded drunk at 3 am bc that rumor is definitely real

possible baby daddy

her old roommate that she bailed on, can be positive or negative

a best friend, like the blair and serena type ( minus all the fighting ... or not ) that can tell each other and count on the other for anything

exes in general, good, bad, ugly, any and all.

slow burn ??? or the one that got away ??? or maybe they just keep missing each other ???

maybe an enemy or someone she had a falling out with in the past

ANYONE SHE USD TO HANG OUT WITH IN THE SUMMER BEFORE ACTUALLY LIVING THERE. gimme them long term friendships / relationships

a good influence // the person who tries to help her not keep fucking her life up

alternatively .. the bad influence that encourages and participates in a lot of not so good activities with her

tbh i just want anything and everything so throw any ideas at me bc i’ll probably be in

listen i know i forgot like 239523852 things and rambled on too much but i just love her and could go on forever. 

[eccentriccowboy]

Assassin// pt. 1

Synopsis: ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ inspired story where y/n and her best friends Luke, Calum, Ashton, and Michael compete in a game of Assassin.

you do not need to have read TATBILB to get this, it’ll be explained. But basically assassin is like tag where you have a specific target, but someone else is also targeting you. The game occurs in all hours in all places, unless otherwise disclosed as a safe zone. If you get tagged you are eliminated while the person who tagged you takes your target, tracking and chasing each other until there is one survivor.

Pairing: Slow burn relationship between bestfriend!Luke and Y/N (seems to be my specialty huh)

Warnings: swearing probably knowing me. also i didnt proofread this

Word Count: 1.7 k

Notes: i finally had time to write today bc school was cancelled today because of a hurricane warning WOOP WOOP I MIGHT DIE BUT AT LEAST I WONT HAVE MATH HOMEWORK.

*****

Rules:

1. Every house/apartment and workspace is a safe zone for all players.

2. A player is only eliminated when both the tracker’s hands are rested somewhere on the target’s body.

3. You can only kill your target, you can make alliances with someone, but you cannot make the kill for them.

4, Alliances are per round(until you/your alliance get out one or both of your target). After that you must either go separate ways or you can negotiate another alliance.

5. Winner gets to ask whatever they want of one of the losers.

6. No hard feelings and definitely no sore losers.

*****

“I’m not leaving my house, that’s how I’ll win,” Luke decided. Before you could correct him on how awful of a plan that was, he realized his mistake. “Wait, no, shit, that wouldn’t work,” he furrowed his eyebrows, clearly conflicted on what to do. 

“Don’t even bother coming up with a plan, I’ll get you out before you come up with step one,” Michael bragged. You rolled your eyes at that one.

“You shouldn’t be talking, mister. Remember last year when you were first out?” you smugly chided.

Michael’s face fell for a moment, before deciding to tease you back.

“Hey, at least I’ve won a year,” he remarked, subtly reminding you of how through the 15 years of playing Assassin with your four childhood best friends, you’ve never won once. “Four, actually,” he smirked, before getting off your couch to head to the fridge.

“Think you’re forgetting almighty Ashton over here, mates,” Ashton said, including himself in the conversation. He stood up from his seat on the couch and raised his hands in the air, pretending like a crowd was chanting his name. “Ashton, Ashton, Ashton...” he mumbled jokingly.

You giggled at your foolish friend’s behaviour. “You won’t even know what hitcha this time. I’m telling ya this is my year,” you nodded your head, not sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

Luke smiled at you, always the optimist. Luke had won the least amount of games over the years, besides you. He has only ever won twice, whereas Michael has won four, Calum’s won three, and Ashton has remained reigning champ with six wins.

“Never late for a comeback, Y/N,” Luke slung his arm around you casually, rubbing your shoulder. You hoped to dear god he couldn’t hear your heartbeat quicken as you leaned in to his embrace.

You don’t honestly know when you developed feelings for Luke, you just know they weren’t good. You have been friends with him since first grade, it’s not like you can throw away such a valuable friendship for a stupid relationship that wouldn’t ever work.

Instead, you calmed down your heartbeat as best as you could and hugged Luke back, accepting the fact a relationship would never work. It was a sweet moment, though, embracing Luke no matter your relationship status

“Can’t make a comeback when you can’t even win once!” Michael yelled from the kitchen, ruining the moment. You sighed, before getting up from the couch to grab a piece of paper and a pen to write the names on.

“Where ya goin’?” Luke asked, missing your warm embrace.

“Gotta write the names down somewhere,” you replied, opening your desk drawer. 

“Thought we were gonna wait ‘til Calum gets here,” he questioned.

You shrugged. “Gonna get a head start. Also wanna rig it so I get Michael’s name first.”

*****

Once Calum had arrived, you had already prepared the pieces of paper in a large hat for you guys to pick from. 

“Ready to be beaten to ground, losers?” Michael started again.

“No time for smack talk, let’s just get this over with so I can win,” you said. You shook the hat to scramble the papers, then one at a time you each selected a paper.

You grabbed the last paper, holding it close to your chest where no one but you could see what it said.

‘Michael”.

You tried your best to keep a straight face, while analyzing your competitor’s expressions. Calum and Luke both had on poker faces, while Ashton and Michael smirked at their slip of paper.

“Well this is gonna be fun,” Ashton remarked.

*****

You wanted to wait a while to kill Michael, as you basically had all the time in the world. Hell, these games could go on forever. In 2015, the game last over three months before Calum finally got Michael out.

And the longer you wait, the other guys will start attacking each other and dwindle themselves down, leaving less work for you to do. You just had to stay careful and not get caught by your attacker.

You devised a plan: you would only cook at home or order in for the duration of the game, you’ll switch up the route you drive to work every weekday. Say goodbye to a social life for a while because you aren’t going out anytime soon. But you will keep your eyes open if an opportunity arrises to strike Michael.

It continued like this for a week, and nobody made any moves. Everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves, hiding themselves from the rest. As far as you know, no alliances had been made, either.

As the days passed by and the game remained static, you began to become antsy. You wanted to make a splash, a big move that will shock the other players. It was time to get creative.

By the end of the day, you had a devious plan. The plan took time, persuasion, and dedication, but oh boy would it be worth it when you got Michael out.

*****

You had snuck out of your apartment complex at 3 am last night in hopes your attacker wasn’t watching you. You then got into your car and drove in the dead of night to Michael’s apartment building. 

Now here’s the part of the plan that would take great dedication. You parked your car outside of the apartment complex, far enough away where Michael could not see the car if he looked out one of his windows. You wandered to the back alley behind the building, pepper spray in hand in case the worst was to occur.

With no one around, you grabbed your phone out of your purse and turned the flashlight on, shining it on the floor until you found what you were looking for: the garbage cans. 

You weren’t going to rummage through stranger’s trash, you weren’t insane. But you did merely open the lid and peer into the cans to see what food you might find. And there, laying at the top of the fourth garbage can you checked, were empty cardboard pizza boxes.

Dominoes. Michael’s favourite pizza place.

And there were 5 of them. Enough to last a grown man about a week and a half. Almost as if this mysterious man was living off of delivery pizza instead of going out.

This couldn’t be a coincidence. You knew Michael would be too lazy to cook his own food. Now you just needed to use this information to your advantage.

*****

“Psst!” you whisper shouted to the delivery man standing at the entrance to Michael’s apartment complex, waiting for access.

“Psst!” you whisper shouted a bit louder, finally gaining the man’s attention.

He looked at you, bewildered, his eyes shifting from you to the locked gate then back to you. Finally, he took a few timid steps in your direction, where you were hiding in a bush. 

“Um, yeah?” the man asked, clearly still uncertain about the potentially insane women hiding in a fucking bush.

“I need to ask you a favor,” you put your hands out in front of your body in attempt to show him you were harmless. “Hear me out, okay? I’m playing this game with my friends, it’s called assassin. It’s basically just a harmless game of tag. Your delivering this pizza to 22B, yea?”

The man looked at you skeptically, before murmuring out a yes.

“Okay, well you see, the guy who ordered the pizza, his name is Michael, I’ve got to tag him out. Will you help me out?” you continued before he could say no. “Your part is super simple. All you have to do is tell Michael the gate won’t let you in and see if he will step out to come get it. I can’t get him while he is in his home.”

The man continued to stare at you. “What’s in it for me?”

You shrugged, “Name your price.”

“100 bucks,” he shrugged back.

“50,” 

“60,”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Just make sure he doesn’t see me, and if I don’t get him out, you don’t get paid.”

The man agreed to your terms, then called Michael back. “Hey, man, the electric gate’s giving me a bit of trouble. Do you mind coming downstairs to grab the pizza?” The man listened to Michael’s response, then looked at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“He’s coming down,” he said. You nodded, your heartbeat suddenly picking up. Oh god, what if you mess it up? 

You went back to your position in the bush, close enough to the gate entrance that you could jump out and place both of your hands on Michael easily.

As you waited for your unsuspecting friend to come downstairs, you reflected on the craziness you endured to get here. You stayed up until 3 am just to rifle through stranger’s garbage, for Pete’s sake! You deserved this win already.

Finally, you saw a tall man start walking to open up the gate. “Sorry, man, this happens all the time. I’m surprised it’s taken you this many deliveries this past week for it to finally happen to you,” Michael called out.

“No problem man, less work for me,” the worker chuckled. Michael opened the gate, suddenly distracted with trying to find the proper bills in his wallet. This was your chance. 

You lunged out of the bushes, your hands stretched in front of you. In the corner of Michael’s eye he saw a body of sudden movement, his head turning, but it was too late. Both of your palms landed on his left arm.

“AHA, take that!” You raised your hands in the air in victory. Michael clutched his head in his hands, in disbelief his game was over so soon.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, SHIT!” He uttered.

“What? Got no creative one-liners for this, huh?” You smirked.

“Yea, yea, just have fun with who you’ve gotta get next.”

Your ears perked at that. There’s still four other players blocking your way to victory.

“Who is it?” It was Michael’s turn to smirk now.

“Ashton.”

Well shit.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

femslash february strikes again and i finally updated that one cornirma fic that ive been meaning to get back to for literally an entire year

Title: The Frying Pan Conversation Pairing: Cornelia/Irma Chapter: 2 - funny how we run around Summary: “You're awake...” “Great detective work, Sherlock, want a medal?” “It's too early in the morning for you to be sassing me,” grumbled Cornelia, half-heartedly throwing her phone onto the blankets and scooting closer to Irma. “Good thing you're way too cute for me to be sassing you with intent to kill,” Irma teased, pulling her in closer for a hug. She was overly warm from sleep and Cornelia happily melted into it. Irma's boobs made for an excellent pillow. (Cornelia and Irma spend Christmas with the Hales.)

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743063/chapters/42144206

Cornelia loved watching Irma sleep. While she usually ran her mouth during the day, when she slept she had some sort of serenity around her, a tranquillity one wouldn't expect from someone who spent half the night tossing and turning, hogging the blankets and drooling all over her pillow. Yet, when morning came and Cornelia returned to wakefulness, Irma was at peace with herself in the land of dreams, hair framing her face like a halo. It took all restraint not to kiss her, but Cornelia had never been a fan of kissing before one had brushed their teeth.

Instead, she continued to watch. It was quiet and dim, the early morning sun casting strange light and shadows throughout the main room where they were set up. Without her family milling around, it felt peaceful. She wondered if this was how it would be all the time, if she and Irma moved in together some day. Sure, it wouldn't be some luxury cabin, but the world would be quiet like this. There would be no eyes on her. The whole room would be theirs to lie in silence and watch each other and feel cosy and secure. While Cornelia did want lavish things for herself someday, when she was older and things like throw pillows and vases mattered greatly in the grand scheme of things, it amazed her how easily she would sacrifice that just to be able to wake up next to Irma each morning and take on the day, regardless of whether they were in a plush king-sized bed or squashed together on a pull-out.

Geez. She really was picturing the rest of her life with Irma, like the hopeless romantic she was.

She rolled over to reach for her phone in the semi-dark. Too early to start messaging the group chat, but she hedged her bets with someone who did have a tendency to be up at this hour.

Will, you awake?

Not three minutes later, she received a reply.

ofc?? no rest for an athlete, corny. how did telling the parents go?

It didn't. Turns out I'm a bit of a coward.

nah it's tough. i only told my mom about being genderfluid a month ago, and i had no idea if she'd even CARE about it

Well, she cares about YOU. And from what you've told me, she's taken it well?

The speech bubble indicating a reply stayed for a while, and Cornelia repositioned herself so that she could watch Irma doze while waiting on Will to get back to her. After a few minutes, her phone finally pinged, and she hastily lowered the volume as Irma stirred slightly.

yeah, turns out dean being our teacher way back in the day finally paid off bc sheffield has diversity training or smth. he sat down w me and my mom and talked over all this stuff she was confused about. and she still doesn't totally get it, but she said she just wants me to be happy. guess that's all i really needed. stuff like if she comes to pride and w/e doesn't matter to me tbh, just knowing she's there for me is enough

Cornelia chewed her lip wistfully. If only it worked out that simply for everybody...

That's great. Really, I'm so happy it all worked out for you. I'm just worried about my parents, I guess. They're not bad people, but sometimes they can be so backwards with things. Really, I just want them to accept that this is a part of me so I can stop lying about a college guy just to keep them from overanalysing the way I am around Irma.

hey i get it! you're both just so darn cute together!

Indeed we are.

They shared some quick, casual conversation (Will, as usual, had some funny story to tell her about life as Taranee's roommate, and Cornelia caught them up on the bullshit that was her and Irma's road trip to the cabin) before Will had to leave to start their morning swim practice.

“Psst. Blondie.”

Cornelia dropped her phone in surprise, catching sight of rich green eyes watching her intently.

“You're awake...”

“Great detective work, Sherlock, want a medal?”

“It's too early in the morning for you to be sassing me,” grumbled Cornelia, half-heartedly throwing her phone onto the blankets and scooting closer to Irma.

“Good thing you're way too cute for me to be sassing you with intent to kill,” Irma teased, pulling her in closer for a hug. She was overly warm from sleep and Cornelia happily melted into it. Irma's boobs made for an excellent pillow.

“You're comfy,” she mumbled.

“Yup, cushy tits run in the family,” Irma remarked, relishing in the way Cornelia shuddered with an implosion of laughter. “You know this is the first time in months we've woken up together?”

“Feels like it too,” Cornelia sighed. “I've missed this. You should really come visit me more often, you know.”

“Oh yeah? I visited you twice last term. It's your turn to visit me just as soon as daddy dearest hands over your fucking prius.”

“Well, no offence, but your college campus is like a 30 minute drive away from Heatherfield,” pointed out Cornelia. “I'd sooner you visit me than risk bumping into Uriah of all people at a house party.”

Irma scoffed. “Thanks a lot! It may not be ivy-league or State U or anything, but there's still a ton of stuff to do! Besides, pretty sure Uriah's at Sheffield Community College, Anna works with his mom.” She paused. “Though, I did run into our dear old chum Nigel at a Halloween party this year.”

“Oh? And how did that go down?”

“How do you think? He followed me around half the night asking about Tara until I finally snapped and was like, 'you missed the boat, honey, our girl is gay as the day is long'. Haven't seen him since. Reckon he dropped out when he heard how swimmingly Taranee's life is going without him.”

“I doubt he flunked out because of a girl he was dumped by five years ago,” Cornelia deadpanned.

“Uh, hello? Our girl is a catch. He's lucky to have even walked the Earth in the same lifetime as her.”

“A bit dramatic, but I get the sentiment.”

Cornelia fell quiet, listening intently to Irma's heartbeat, her breathing.

“D'you think today's gonna be the day?” Irma asked softly.

Cornelia let out a noise, somewhere between laughter and a sigh.

“How do you always know what I'm thinking?”

“Because you have the antithesis of a poker face, darlin'. I've been reading you like a book since I was thirteen.”

She tangled her fingers up in Cornelia's hair, gently combing through, careful to avoid knots.

“I don't know if it'll be today,” sighed Cornelia. “Does it make me a hypocrite? I was so certain I wanted to do it this time.”

“Look. You need to stop putting this pressure on yourself to do everything exactly how you imagined,” Irma said firmly. “You don't have to tell them I'm your girlfriend. You don't even have to tell them you're pan if you aren't ready for it. We can call this off, you can spend the rest of Christmas break not having to worry about their reactions, and we can make out and cuddle and all that good stuff the second we set foot in my house. Would that make you feel better?”

“No?” Cornelia reached up to pull Irma into a proper hug. “I want them to know how happy you make me. I want them to know that I'm happy being myself. But the part where I actually tell them? Opening up like that, it... it's a very emotional process.”

“I know. I know it is. But I promise you, once it's out in the open... never mind their reaction, you will feel worlds better with it off your chest.”

“Ugh, why does my girlfriend have to be so wise?” Cornelia wondered aloud. Irma formed a fist and lightly knocked her on the head.

“If I'm going to be a teacher some day, I gotta be wise. I'm meant to be some sort of inspiring prophet, if your dad's stirring speech at dinner last night was anything to go by.”

“He's a passionate guy,” Cornelia shrugged.

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

A sudden creak from down the hall disrupted them, and they sprung apart, Cornelia sitting upright and reaching for her phone while Irma pretended to go back to sleep. A moment later, Harold's face poked around the door.

“Morning, darling!” he uttered in a stage-whisper, before stepping into the room clad in his robe and slippers. “Does Irma take coffee? I was thinking of brewing a pot to wake your mother up.”

“Only with six million sugars in,” Cornelia said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Don't worry, I'll take over. I know how to make it so she doesn't spit it out.”

Harold laughed, and moved over to start on breakfast as Cornelia set up the coffee maker.

“You two are as thick as thieves.”

Cornelia's hand froze.

“...Well, we're still good friends, but...”

“I drifted apart from my school friends when I went away to college, you know,” Harold mused. “I regret it now. The rift grew so big, and by the time I saw them again they were married, had families... and although we could still talk with ease about these kinds of things, the bond we shared at school – the books we liked to read, the movies we saw together, the pranks we would play on our teachers – all of that was gone. It was something we could look back upon and laugh at, but it's not the same.”

“I didn't know that.”

Harold offered her a kind smile, and reached over to crack some eggs into a bowl, dusting the mixture with pepper.

“Well, I think it's important to keep in touch with those you love. I was actually quite worried when I heard that you were going to your college alone. I know how close you are to the girls you met at Sheffield. I'm... glad that you were able to keep a close bond with them despite the distance.”

Oh, if only he knew how close.

Cornelia set out some cups on the side, hoping her face wasn't burning. If she really was as easy to read as Irma said...

“Well, they're my friends. They're important to me.” She glanced over at him. “Dad, I'm... I'm really happy with my life right now. With the person I am, and the person I'm with.”

Harold stopped whisking, and moved over to pull Cornelia into a tight hug.

“I'm so glad to hear that, darling. I really am.”

They worked in a pleasant silence after that, and when Irma next rolled over, Cornelia was nudging her, cup of overly sweetened coffee in her hand.

“Rise and shine.”

Harold was whistling away as Irma took her first sip, his back to them as he began tossing some bacon and eggs in the pan.

“Mmm. You made it just how I like it.”

“Well, you're picky. If my dad made it you'd choke it down and feel awful the rest of the day,” Cornelia teased. Irma stuck her tongue out.

“Jerk.” After another sip, she added coyly, “I heard the conversation between you two. It was sweet. Are you thinking today might be the day after all?”

“Maybe,” Cornelia said, a flame of confidence ignited in her heart. “He really wants me to be happy, so... maybe when I tell him, he'll understand.”

“Look, Harold Hale might not be leading a revolution, but he's always seemed like a chill guy to me,” Irma said quietly. “If you keep dropping hints, he might figure the rest out on his own.”

“Maybe.”

Cornelia glanced back at her father, still blissfully unaware of their conversation, and she leaned down to press a kiss to Irma's forehead.

“Now, drink up. We have a big day ahead of us.”

…

Breakfast was uneventful, with Lillian dominating the conversation with talk of some dream inspired by a zombie TV show she'd been binge-watching over Christmas break. Irma munched on French toast and bacon and watched in amusement as Harold became disgustingly sweet with Elizabeth, pressing kisses to her head whenever he went to refill drinks, even reaching down to pinch her behind when he was sure his daughters and his oldest's girlfriend weren't looking. Elizabeth swatted his hand away, pretending to be mortified at his brazen display in front of Irma, but the rouge on her cheeks and the affectionate eyeroll told another story. All the while, Cornelia quietly ate and drank, keeping a straight face while prodding Irma's foot playfully with her own under the table.

Oh, Irma could get used to mornings like these.

They took turns showering and dressing, and did the usual routine of wrestling for more mirror space as they brushed their teeth and put on make-up.

“So what's the plan for today?” Irma asked, rubbing some kind of moisturiser into her cheeks. Cornelia leaned in closer and inhaled with a happy sigh. Mango. Irma took the opportunity to turn and press a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Cornelia pulled away with a grin.

“Oh, well now we're all together, today will definitely be a decorating day. I mean, it's Christmas eve tomorrow, so it'd be a little sad if we didn't have the decorations ready by then,” she explained with a shrug, uncapping her mascara beginning to apply it to her upper lashes. “It really shouldn't take too long though. We'll have some time to get away, don't worry. And I think tonight my parents reserved dinner for us at a restaurant in town. I have to warn you, the waiter we had last time was super obnoxious...”

Irma stared at her reflection in the mirror, zoning out of Cornelia's anecdote about the wait staff at said restaurant, before glancing over at her girlfriend. In their teen years, she'd always envied how immaculate Cornelia's appearance was. She'd always seemed flawless somehow, even though Irma knew better and would never ever admit that much. Then, those feelings started to mix with something else, and attraction, jealousy and self-consciousness melted into an ugly soup of insecurity in her psyche. Even now, when she knew better than anyone that Cornelia was smitten with her, doubt crept in, especially in situations like these when they had to stand beside one another and pretend like they belonged in the same league.

“You're beautiful,” she sighed, interrupting Cornelia's spontaneous yelp review. Cornelia's hand jerked at the suddenness of Irma's statement and she hurriedly reached to blot away a clump of mascara stuck to the end of her eyelashes.

“Oh. Well, I do my best, and when it comes to make-up practice always makes perfect, you know.”

“I'm not talking about make-up, though yeah, you should consider dropping out of college and becoming a beauty guru on youtube instead.”

“Well, I think you're gorgeous too,” Cornelia replied with a smile, moving onto her lips. First a layer of balm to soften them, a waiting period of three minutes, and then the application of gloss or lipstick. It was her routine every time, and the waiting drove Irma mad in the mornings they'd spent together over the years. Cornelia's lip balm always smelled so damn good that fighting the temptation to kiss it clean off was a rare torture.

“Have you seen me?” muttered Irma, frowning at her reflection. “Eyebags for days. Messy brows. My lips are chapped to fuck and my skin has been kind of red lately...”

“Every time I see you I want to kiss you all over,” Cornelia said in the kind of factual tone that had Irma raising an eyebrow in disbelief. Still, she didn't protest as Cornelia wound her arms around her, and Irma caught a whiff of coconut lip balm. God damn it, she wanted Corny-kisses so bad. “You still get insecure, huh?”

“Hard not to when my girlfriend could pass for a fucking supermodel.”

“While I'm flattered that you hold me in such high regard, you're a far cry from the disaster you're making yourself out to be,” Cornelia laughed. “Besides, if you're really worrying about stuff, just talk to me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Irma muttered. Cornelia rifled through her make-up bag for a few moments, before bringing out a small bottle.

“Come here, dope. Let me help you.”

“Why pay big bucks for a beautician when you can get one for free in the form of a generous girlfriend?” Irma deadpanned, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Cornelia grinned back and started to apply the liquid to her cheeks and brow with some kind of blender sponge thing shaped like an egg.

“The trick to combating redness and dark circles is to have a good, strong base that neutralises any discolouration in your skin. In your case, green tones kind of cancel out reds, and yellows are good against dark circles, so it just leaves your skin looking healthier, see?”

She switched over quickly to one with a yellower hue, and Irma hummed in agreement, staying put as Cornelia began tending to her eyebags.

“I think I get where you're coming from. Hay Lin calls me up all the time to gush about colour theory, the importance of colour wheels is stuck in my brain for life.”

“Oh, you and Hay Lin call each other all the time? More than me?” Cornelia teased. She put down the sponge and reached back over to her make-up bag, retrieved something that Irma could only describe as the world's tiniest broom, and began to tame Irma's unruly eyebrows. “Don't tell me the two of you are having a sordid affair behind my back.”

“Our torrid love affair is about as real as yours with mystery botanist man,” Irma responded. Without breaking eye contact with Cornelia, she reached over for her own chapstick and began to apply it. Cornelia's tongue poked out slightly in concentration as she smoothed down Irma's brows.

“It's bad enough my parents keep going on about him, don't you start.”

“Well, he is my alter-ego,” Irma pointed out. “Seems a little rude to silence my opinions on him.”

“I hate when you make a good point.”

Cornelia leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Irma's brow, breathing in the smell of her mango moisturiser one more time and sighing deeply. Irma, in a similar moment of pure, unfiltered lesbianism, caught the scent of Cornelia's lip balm and damn went out of her mind. She tilted Cornelia's head down and what transpired for the next few minutes were a combination of kisses, hugs, and several attempts to escape Irma's python-like grip.

“It's lipstick time,” Cornelia complained, a playful glint in her eye as she finally pried Irma's arms off of her waist. “My lips will dry out.”

“Honey, we're both balmed up, if anything, now we have a double coating. You'll be fine.”

“Still, the sooner my make-up is done, the sooner we can get decorating out of the way, and the sooner we can chill out watching crappy holiday movies.”

“The temptation to stay in this bathroom where no one's watching and we can keep kissing forever, though...”

“Aren't we saving 'kissing forever' for the week at your place?” Cornelia asked innocently, perfectly pencilled eyebrows raised.

“No, that's 'sex forever', silly,” Irma said cheerfully, clapping her on the back.

She glanced back at her reflection. While the foundation and tiny grooming hadn't done much besides tidying her reflection up some, her eyes twinkled with something she could only describe as 'the Cornelia effect', and she found her appearance didn't really bug her so much by this point. As they stood side by side, Irma came to the realisation that she and Cornelia really did fit together, but more like a pair of odd socks that compliment each other in all their contrasting glory.

Maybe someone else would call that love.

…

Christmas with the Hales was turning out to be pretty fun.

Irma and Lillian fought bitterly over control of the spotify playlist that morning, while Elizabeth and Cornelia decorated the tree and Harold cheerfully filmed the entire ordeal. Lillian was stubbornly obsessed with the classics, while Irma kept switching them out for lesser appreciated cover versions, partly because rooting for the underdogs was how she rolled, and partly because she got immense glee out of pissing Lillian off (and for that, Cornelia saluted her for her heroism). When Karmilla's edition of 'All I Want For Christmas' came on instead of Mariah Carey, Lillian threatened to throw Irma's phone out of the window, which had Elizabeth swooping in and putting an end to their temporary rivalry.

They called a truce when the parents set out to buy icing and other edible decorations for the Christmas cookies, leaving the girls to prep them for baking. Lillian greased the baking tray while Cornelia mixed eggs and flour and sugar and cinnamon together in a big red bowl. Irma, meanwhile, sat herself on the island and, in compromise with Lillian, put on a playlist of nineties nostalgia, singing along to Re-feel-it and pretending to drum with a pair of wooden spoons against the countertop.

“Funnyyyyy, how we run around,” she belted. “And see what we got, we don't even know what it is we found...”

“And honey, take a look around,” Cornelia chimed in, using the whisk as a microphone. She spun on her heels, her eyes meeting Irma's as she lifted the whisk up to her lips. “By the time we get there we won't even know where it is we're bound!”

The two of them burst out laughing, and Lillian rolled her eyes. “Dorks.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cornelia sighed dramatically, smirking at Irma before turning back to the mixing bowl and continuing to whisk the mixture. “I forgot we were in your divine presence, Lillian. I hope you can forgive us for entering the realm of uncool nostalgia for two seconds.”

Irma snorted.

“You know, she always gets more sarcastic when you're around, Irma,” Lillian accused.

“Yeah, I rub off on her. I'm a baaaad influence.”

“Is that any way to talk to our renowned guest?” Cornelia chastised. “What would Dad say?”

“He'd probably tell you not to sing into the whisk. You know how many germs you could be putting into the cookies by breathing on the mixture? You've built up an immunity living among students, but have some consideration for those of us who haven't stepped foot in a sweaty student union hall.”

“You're actually mad,” Irma cackled. “What kind of diseases could Cornelia have besides a bad case of the cooties? Unless... Corny, please don't tell me your parents are anti-vaxxers, or I might have to end this friendship for good.”

“Hell no, they're fine. Since when did you become such a germophobe, Lillian?” Cornelia teased.

“I play zombie games,” Lillian responded sagely. “I know how infection spreads.”

“They really don't paint as accurate a picture as you've been led to believe.”

As the mixture began to thicken into a dough, Lillian joined Irma on sitting on the island counter.

“So what's college like?”

“Classes are boring, my roommate sucks, and I'm drowning in student loans. But the parties are fun, and the people are cool when they aren't being pretentious tools.”

Lillian hummed.

“I can't wait until I go to college. Community's one of my favourite shows.”

“Heh, well, Community is an exaggeration for the sake of comedy, but...”

“Cornelia, what's your college like?”

“You saw it when you and Mom and Dad helped me move in,” Cornelia pointed out, distracted as she began to knead the dough.

“Yeah, but it's not the same! Your dorm is nice, sure, but what about the classes? The parties? The boys?”

“Hmm, I don't know about that. Boys aren't my area of expertise.”

“Well that's gay.”

Irma raised her eyebrows.

“Using 'gay' as an insult? Very 2004 of you.”

Lillian rolled her eyes. “Sorry. So you don't have a boyfriend?”

“Nope,” Irma said shortly.

Cornelia began to knead a little harder.

“I bet you know stuff about Cornelia's boyfriend though,” Lillian said to Irma, arms folded. “Why doesn't she talk about him? Is he secretly ugly?”

Irma snorted.

“Ha. I know a thing or two, but he's actually... probably the most handsome person I've ever known. Aside from your sister!” She playfully punched Lillian on the arm, who looked unimpressed by the statement. Cornelia made a strangled sound.

“Lillian, pass me the cookie cutters, please,” she choked.

Lillian raised her eyebrows and hopped off the counter top, retrieving ones shaped like pine trees and angels and bells, handing them to Cornelia.

“Here they are, weirdo. Anyway, you can't blame me for being curious! We had to pry it out of you that you were seeing anyone at all, and you're always so twitchy when we bring him up. Irma, is he a junkie or a biker or something?”

“Nope, just a loser who lies around watching cartoons all day,” Irma responded with a lazy grin.

“So you have a thing in common.”

“Lillian!” Cornelia admonished, slamming a cookie cutter into the dough with enough force to make the other shapes jump. “Also, Irma, I don't appreciate you calling my partner a loser.”

Lillian pulled a face.

“Partner? What are you, old timers?”

“Cowboys,” Irma chimed in.

“Oh, stop teasing me,” Cornelia huffed. “I'm just trying to be more inclusive. The world could do with more of that, you know.”

Lillian shrugged. “Whatever. So you're liberal now?”

“I reckon I've always been, yes.”

“And you, Irma?”

“Socialist, through and through.”

“Of course you are.”

“Just wait until college, Lillian,” Irma chided with a smile, as Cornelia began setting out the Christmas cookies on the tray. “There's a whole wide world out there.”

…

The Italian restaurant Harold took them to that night was fucking fancy, to say the least. The kind of fancy where there were lemon-scented wipes in little packets on every table and complimentary garlic dough balls and everyone was in suits and dresses. The Hales looked like they fit right in, and Irma was some vagrant they'd picked up off of the streets and were treating to dinner in a commendable act of charity.

“I don't even know what half the stuff on this menu is,” Irma hissed to Cornelia as they took their seats.

“It's good food,” Cornelia promised. “They just use posh names to scare people into thinking its worth the money they're paying. Come on, you watch enough Hell's Kitchen to know what filet mignon is.”

Irma ended up ordering something that she was pretty sure was some kind of beef thing, and Cornelia ordered the one pasta dish on the menu that used aubergines instead of pancetta. The wine was decent at least, and Irma found it easier to sneak glances at Cornelia's cleavage in the scoop neck dress she was wearing with the large flower centrepiece obscuring them from her parents. Lillian, while looking the part in a simple white turtle neck dress, was very obviously playing on her phone under the table.

The sweet onion soup starters arrived swiftly, and Irma was dragged back into a light grilling about her teaching degree from Harold, while Elizabeth began to catch Cornelia up with the latest family drama.

“Why, I just think it's so inspiring that you're choosing to act as a beacon for young people, and pave their futures-”

“-And your uncle, of course, is still coming around asking for money, as if your grandparents don't have enough to worry about-”

“-And you know, teaching qualifications open up the whole world to you! You could teach in international schools, or you could teach English in schools where it's a secondary language-”

“-It's not like their health is getting any better, you know! I keep telling him it's time to stand on his own two feet, he's certainly old enough-”

The moment that their waiter came to take the dishes away, Irma hurriedly excused herself.

In the bathroom (one of those spotless white ones with tiny shell-shaped soaps and embossed toilet paper because of course, rich people) Irma took a few moments to collect herself, staring at her reflection in dismay. She'd done her best to look presentable, but she still stuck out like a sore thumb in this kind of environment. Her dress was a little tight since the last time she'd worn it was for graduation, and her choker was crooked. Her bun was already starting to look lopsided, the redness of her cheeks was starting to show through the base Cornelia had applied that morning...

“Why am I not as perfect as the folks out there?” she muttered to herself, eyes narrowing as she glared at her reflection. She reached for one of the shell-shaped hand soaps and began to pick it with the edge of her fingernail. Absently, the faucet turned and water began to gush out, thrumming to the beat of her frustration.

After a few minutes of self-loathing and contemplation, she heard the sound of the door open behind her, and saw a flash of Irish green fabric, before Cornelia came up behind her, a vision of concern. She startled as the small army of water gushing from the faucet turned on her, almost letting out a hiss of steam, before Irma quickly called it off, allowing it to taper down the drain and out of sight.

“Irma, are you okay? My parents thought I should check on you in case the wine didn't agree with you, but...”

“Yeah, it isn't the wine,” Irma sighed. “It's this whole place. I can't fucking believe your dad called this place rustic on the way here.”

“He doesn't know the meaning of the word,” Cornelia agreed with a giggle. She wrapped her arms around Irma, leaning down to rest her chin on her shoulder. “You look amazing tonight.”

“Really?” Irma sighed. “I don't feel it. Or is this a classic 'lying to your girlfriend's face so she doesn't start crying in a stupidly fancy bathroom' tactic?”

“Well, it wouldn't be a great start to the meal.” Cornelia pressed a kiss to her jaw. “But I'm serious. You look great.”

“I'm practically bursting out of this dress. My tits are fighting for freedom. And my hair is coming undone and my stupid face is getting stupid red!”

“Of course it is, you've been drinking,” Cornelia said, rolling her eyes fondly. “And your face is the furthest thing from stupid, so don't even start.”

“I'm past the point of starting, Corny, I'm waist-fucking-deep in it. Look at this damn soap.” She gestured aggressively towards a shrivelled pebble in the basin. “That was shaped like a fucking seashell when I came in here and I picked and picked at it and now it looks like, I don't know, a really tiny golf ball?”

“Wow. Okay, let's take a step back from the soap.” Cornelia spun her around and rested her hands on her shoulders. “Irma, you look wonderful tonight. Seriously, you do, and I hate that going to this stupid dinner has made you so worked up.”

“It's not just the dinner.” Irma frowned up at her so-tall-it-was-unfair girlfriend. “Look at us. I mean, really look. We're like chalk and cheese, except, you're too pretty to be chalk. We're like – I don't know! An oil painting and cheese! I don't belong here eating food so fancy I can't pronounce it with wine I'm too weak to drink and in a dress that's too tiny for my damn good. You might fit into this magazine-spread life where everything is minimalist and perfect and velvet but I just don't. I saw it in the mirror this morning and I saw it in the mirror again just now. Are you honestly okay with that?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Cornelia asked, the smile gone from her face. “I love you. I love having you in my life. Sure, I like the nice material stuff sometimes, but if you think for one second that I'd put that stuff before you – before us – then the wine has definitely gone to your head.”

Irma huffed. After a beat, she muttered, “Rich people wine is ridiculous.”

“Agreed. Now, listen to me. We're too deep into this relationship to be hitting insecurities over stuff like this, got it? You know I come from money. You wanted to come on this trip with me. Unfortunately, that means seeing the way my family lives up close and personal. I just want you to remember that doesn't define me, or how I feel about you. I want you here. Okay?”

“I hate when you're being reasonable,” Irma groaned. She hugged Cornelia tight.

“Oof. Heh, don't tell me you're drunk already, we have the rest of a dinner to get through.”

“Are you gonna tell your parents tonight?” Irma mumbled into Cornelia's waist.

Cornelia hummed uncertainly. “Maybe. I don't know.”

“Well, remember I still love you. If you don't wanna come out here in this stupid fancy restaurant, no pressure. We'll make it happen some other time.”

“Hey, no need to comfort me, you're the one feeling insecure,” Cornelia teased. Irma lifted her head up to protest, and was met with Cornelia's lips pressing against her forehead.

“Ugh, you're too cute,” whined Irma. “If I weren't wearing heels I would go on my tiptoes and kiss you. And if you weren't wearing heels, we might actually be fucking level for once.”

“Thanks for clarifying that,” Cornelia quipped. “Not to worry, I can accommodate you.”

She leaned down and cupped Irma's cheeks, pulling her into a kiss.

The sound of the bathroom door abruptly shutting ended the sickeningly sweet moment, and they jolted apart. Lillian stood there, wide-eyed.

“Uhhh. Mom told me to come get you two, the main courses are out...” She blinked a few times. “Are you guys... lesbians?”

“Lillian,” Cornelia started, voice strained.

“I'm a lesbian,” Irma said with a shrug and an awkward chuckle.

“So you called me ignorant earlier even though you really are gay?”

“Ignorance is ignorance, sis.”

“Lillian, please don't tell Mom and Dad about this,” Cornelia pleaded. “I'm going to tell them myself, I just haven't had time to yet.”

Lillian folded her arms and huffed.

“I can't believe your mystery guy is just Irma.”

“Oh, ouch?”

Cornelia let go of Irma and approached Lillian.

“I'm serious. Can you please promise me you won't say anything?”

Lillian shrugged.

“I guess. I mean, I don't care about it. Not like they'd believe me anyway.” Seeing Cornelia's pinched expression, she sighed loudly. “All right, no. No, I won't say anything. So you can stop looking at me like that! Now come on, or Mom will be next to find us in here.”

As she pushed open the door to leave, she turned back.

“Also, Irma, you've got lipstick on your face. Hard to play dumb when the evidence is right there on your forehead.”

“When did she become such a smartass?” Irma muttered as Cornelia fished around in her clutch, bringing out a make-up wipe. “Look, don't panic. Lillian might be a pain, but she respects your business. Probably. I mean, I don't know her that well, but it's none of her business right? She knows that.”

“How did she seem to you?” Cornelia asked, chewing her lip. “Uncomfortable? Freaked out? D-Disgusted?”

“None. It was the same kind of grossed out she got when she caught you making out with Peter for the first time, I reckon. It was sibling disgust, not, y'know, her being a phobe.”

“Are you sure?” Cornelia fretted.

“Super sure. Now come on, you heard what she said. Lets go back before your mom drags us back by the ears.”

Irma reached over to squeeze her hand and didn't let go until they were out of the bathroom and in sight of the Hales. Elizabeth turned and shot them a disapproving look, motioning them back over, and Harold's face lit up with a delighted smile.

“I was starting to think the two of you had fallen in!” he joked, as they took their seats. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, everything's fine,” Cornelia promised, a lie rolling effortlessly from her tongue as Irma stared down at the steak au poivre in front of her. “Irma just smudged her mascara and needed me to come to her rescue.”

“Ah, I see. Surely it shouldn't take that long though?” Elizabeth turned to Lillian. “Were they taking selfies?”

“Oh, they were having a gay old time in there,” Lillian deadpanned.

Cornelia froze. Irma dared to look up from her food to stare daggers at Lillan.

A moment passed, and Harold shrugged.

“Well, I'll never understand it, myself. But the youth of today are always finding beauty in everything! They can make moments last a lifetime! And I'm envious that an entire generation has learned to take pictures from an angle that certainly appear more flattering in post-production...”

As his speech continued, the tension melted away. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the two of them, as if to silently chastise them for sending Harold on a spiel about technological advancements, before tucking into her food.

Cornelia swiftly kicked Lillian under the table, but all she got back in response was an impish grin.

…

“Urgh, I'm full to burst.”

A now pyjama-clad Irma flopped face down on the pull-out bed, before rolling onto her side and burping softly into the back of her hand.

“I told warned you against dessert, if you recall,” Cornelia said with a grin, pulling her nightgown over her head.

“Yeah, but they had cheesecake. You know I'm weak for cheesecake, Corny.”

“That I do.” Cornelia lay down beside her. “I was a bundle of nerves the whole night.”

“Aw, come here.” Irma pulled Cornelia close, combing her fingers through her hair. “Lillian was just being a brat, that's all. She's got dirt on you, of course she's gonna poke a little fun. But she wasn't about to out you or anything.”

“I know,” Cornelia groaned. “I know. But she's on thin ice, I'm telling you now!”

“Well, the sooner you get it off your chest, the sooner she'll lose that power over you,” Irma pointed out. She yawned. “I'm pooped. Can you turn the light off? And then come spoon me?”

“Sure, your highness,” teased Cornelia, prying Irma's hands off her waist. As she wandered over to the light switch near the hallway, she caught sight of Lillian leaving the bathroom. The two stood there in silence for a few moments, before Cornelia uttered, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lillian shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. “Hey, Cornelia?”

“Yeah?”

“Um. I know I didn't say it at the restaurant, but... I don't like, mind or anything. About you and Irma.”

Relief washed over her.

“You don't?”

“No! And you should stop caring that somebody does, you know? Mom and Dad are whatever. I don't know if they'd care about it. But, it shouldn't matter if we mind or not, that's my point. It's about you and Irma, not about the rest of us. Although, since you're a lesbian now, I wish you had better taste in girls. I've seen her eat peanut butter out of the jar with her fingers,” Lillian pointed out, pulling a face.

Cornelia, stunned by the overload of information, leaned back against the wall.

“With her fingers?”

“Yup. It was our house peanut butter, too!”

Cornelia buried her head in her hands. “Oh my god. If I didn't love her so damn much that would for sure be a deal breaker. Also, I'm not a lesbian.”

“You're not?”

“No. I loved Peter, remember?”

Lillian pouted. “Yeah. I miss him.”

“I know you do, you remind me all the time.” Cornelia squared her shoulders. “Lillian, I'm pansexual.”

Lillian raised an eyebrow. “Pansexual?”

“Yes. Pansexual. I... fancy people regardless of whether they're a guy, a girl, or nonbinary.”

“Nonbinary?”

“The internet is a great place to learn about this stuff, since you're on the track to being an ally now.”

Lillian giggled.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, okay. So you're not gay, you're... what's the short of it? Pan?”

Cornelia nodded wordlessly.

“Okay. Cool. You're pan. And Irma's your girlfriend. And she's a lesbian?”

“Yes. You caught on fast.”

With a shrug, Lillian said simply, “It wasn't that hard to grasp. You're pan, Irma's gay, you're dating. That's that.”

Cornelia's mouth opened and closed a few times. At last, she uttered, “You made that seem really easy.”

“I'm a smart and socially aware kid,” Lillian said proudly, hands on her hips. Her smug expression softened. “And I'm happy you're happy. I was kinda thinking, cause you never mentioned your 'mystery uni boyfriend', that maybe you didn't really like him. I'm glad it's just a mix up.”

Cornelia's heart swelled, and she stepped towards Lillian, hugging her tight.

“You're a good sister.”

“And you're a clingy sister, god!”

They bid goodnight and Cornelia climbed into bed beside Irma, who had her back to her and was softly groaning. She yelped as Cornelia wriggled under the covers.

“Holy crap, Corny, your feet are colder than Mount fucking Thanos!”

“So warm me up.”

“Sorry, you got the wrong guardian for that party trick.”

Cornelia rolled her eyes fondly and reached around to spoon her.

“Geez, you ate too much. Your stomach feels like a rock.”

“Don't bully me, that was rich people food! How many times am I gonna get to eat like that again, huh?”

“If you'd just let me take you fancy places-” Cornelia pointed out.

“You know I hate fancy places!” whined Irma, punctuated by another burp. “Ugh. Just cuddle me to sleep, jerk.”

“Who are you calling a jerk, jerk?”

Cornelia obliged nonetheless, letting her body wrap around Irma's with a familiarity that had adapted over the years; from guardian sleepovers to family vacations to just the two of them drunkenly sprawled out in Cornelia's dorm. And now here they were, fitting together like jigsaw pieces, water and earth.

“Sweet dreams,” Cornelia whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Irma's neck.

“Keep your lips to yourself, Corny,” mumbled Irma sleepily, snuggling closer all the same.

[xukunstellation]

Perfect || Li Quanzhe

Title: Perfect Pairing: Reader x Quanzhe Genre: fluff Word Count: 1848 words Summary: Seeing how insecure your boyfriend is breaks your heart, so you have every intent in telling him how amazing he actually is.

A/N: You guys have no idea how soooooft Quanzhe makes me. This little hamster is literally one of the cutest beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. This request had a loooot of specific details to it, so I did my best to try and do him justice in this fic. I also tweaked the request just a little bit in order to make the fic more realistic. This ended up becoming super long, so I’m putting this under the cut. Please love and support this baby!

help

the gif for him for this fic makes me so :(((

how can someone be so cute ??

he looks so squishy i cry

so you and quanzhe have only recently started dating

you both were relatively new to the whole relationship thing

which means lots of awkward and shy moments between you two

but you both really like each other and make each other happy so it was worth it

if anything, it made you like him even more

it was a bit of a surprise that the two of you were dating to begin with due to the fact that it seemed like you and quanzhe came from two different worlds

quanzhe attended yuehua academy with his six childhood friends, who all varied in grade levels

at his school, he was what people called the “nerdy” type 

which honestly meant he excelled in his studies, usually placing at the top of his class

we love a smart boy

he was more on the quiet side and preferred to be in the shadows unlike his more exuberant friends such as justin and chengcheng

who are always teasing and pulling pranks on him jfc zhengting control your kids

not many people pay attention to quanzhe since he was literally just another face in the crowd (unless they knew him as the really smart kid from class)

but that was perfectly fine with him since all he needed was his own close knit of hooligans friends

meanwhile you attended oaca academy where you were relatively popular since you were an absolute social butterfly

in short, you were a complete ray of sunshine and positivity so people naturally flocked to you

your best friend was zuo ye who eagerly introduced you to his own group of friends (peiyao, zimo, mubo, and qin fen)

with you and zuo ye being the babies of the group, they’re always teasing the hell out of you two

but if anyone else tried to do the same, you’d better be ready to catch these hands watch out

they’re so overprotective of you

it’s all out of love tho

they were also the ones that helped get you and quanzhe together

but that’s a story for another time (hint hint) 

since you and quanzhe went to different schools, you had to find other ways to see each other

no one outside of your friend groups knew the two of you were dating, mainly because you always met up during times when not many other outsiders were around

you always showed up with food and drinks for him during his vocal and dance practices after school

his group of friends literally adore you as much as they adore himself since you’re always taking care of him

zhengting basically adopts you

congrats you earned yourself a boyfriend plus a mom and five brothers for free

quanzhe does his best to return the favor by walking you to and from school since you lived relatively close to each other

sometimes he comes over to your place to hang out or help you with your school work

the oaca boys have a tendency to show up at your house during these times no matter how hard qin fen and mubo try to stop them smh

you had to stop zuo ye and zimo from continuously pinching your boyfriend’s cheeks bc it’s lowkey annoying to him

but he lets only you get away with it bc he likes you so much

however, sometimes it was really difficult to see each other whenever your schedules didn’t line up

although texts and calls made up for some of it, you wished you got to see more of your little hamster

as luck would have it, you ended up moving to your aunt’s place in order to help her run her shop 

guess what was down the block? 

yuehua academy

so as a surprise, you decided to transfer over to yuehua academy in hopes that you were able to share some classes with your boyfriend (which you did luckily)

you peeked into your new homeroom that you knew you shared with quanzhe, scanning the room for his figure

his back was turned away from you, so you slowly crept your way to him and put a finger to your lips to hush chengcheng, justin and xinchun from shouting and giving you away

placing your hands gently over his eyes, you whispered in his ear “guess who”

quanzhe jumped in fear from the surprise attack before spinning around and staring at you with wide eyes, unable to comprehend that you were standing right in front of him

“surprise!” 

“(y-y/n)? oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“it just so happens that i go here now. are you not excited to see your girlfriend?” you pouted playfully just to tease him

activate panic mode

“no! i mean, yes! uh, i mean, i’m just really shocked that you’re here and ah-”

poor boy was about to cry omg 

you immediately hug him, wrapping your arms around his torso lovingly, “i know i know, i’m just teasing you, sweetie.”

you leaned up and kissed his cheek causing quanzhe to flush red in an instant at the pda

the three other boys were making kissy noises and hugging each other like the immature children they were smh

although you transferred in the middle of the school year, your reputation as a social butterfly at oaca continued at yuehua where you were easily able to fit in with the crowd

although you were able to make new friends, you preferred staying near the comfort of your boyfriend and his friends (who has already accepted you into the group long before)

now that you got to see him more often every day, you took the chance to be more openly affectionate with him since he was so shy and innocent-like

you knew that quanzhe wasn’t the best at showing his affection

he was always worrying about whether or not he was pushing himself onto you or if you would think he was weird for initiating something

was his hand too sweaty in yours? was it okay for him to hug you before you entered class? oh gOD YOU CAUGHT HIM STARING AND NOW YOU PROBABLY THINK HE’S CREEPY ASDSHJD

being the good significant other you were, you knew all of this so you never pressured him into acting a certain way just because you were dating

you learned to read when he was too scared to ask to hold your hand or even hug you, so you didn’t mind taking initiative

he nearly faints whenever you kiss him, even if it’s a simple peck on the cheek

you have zhengting on speed dial in case quanzhe does faint but he doesn’t know that

bc you learned to read him so well, it didn’t take long for you to notice him start to act differently around you

you noticed how his hand would falter or even pull away from yours whenever someone attractive merely glanced your way in the hallways

he would grow really quiet whenever you’re talking to zeren, wenjun or any of the other guys

you could tell his smile was forced every time someone made an off-hand comment about your relationship, usually people wondering how the “nerd” was able to date the popular chick (he always held you back from throwing hands at those people tho)

all of this worried you so you confronted him about it as you walked back home from school

“sweetie, can we talk?”

you saw him become uneasy with your words but nodded, “sure. what’s up?”

“you’ve been acting really strange lately. you’re not acting like yourself and i’m really worried. you know you can tell me whenever something is bothering you, right?”

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me”

“i worry about you because i care for you, quanzhe”

those words seemed to resonate with him bc you watched as his face fell and his resolve snap in a second

“it’s just... i feel like i’m not good enough for you. you could literally have anyone in the entire school. i look at you and see how amazing you are. then i look at myself and i’m just... me. i’m not strong. i’m not assertive. i’m not very good at expressing my feelings even though i really really like you. i wish i was different so i could be enough for you. i don’t understand why you’re with me”

he looked completely heartbroken and wounded as he relayed this all to you

if you listen carefully, you could hear the sound of your heart shattering to a million pieces

“quanzhe... i didn’t realize that you had been holding this on your shoulders this entire time. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for ever making you doubt that i don’t want to be with you or that i’ll leave you for someone better”

“but honestly, there isn’t anyone better bc you are the best. it doesn’t matter to me that you aren’t any of the things you mentioned. you care about me and i care about you, so that’s all that matters. i love every single amazing thing about you from your strengths to your flaws. you’re more than enough to me. you’re everything i need and want”

that was all it took for quanzhe to realize that you were quite possibly the best thing that has ever happened to him

the following day, quanzhe asked you to help give him a little make over

although you assured him that he didn’t need to change how he looked because he was already stunning as he is, he said that the change would be good for him and his self-esteem since he’s looked the same for the longest time and he wanted something new

after agreeing, you did your best to merely enhance the handsome looks he already had rather than change anything about him

all you did was tousle his usual rounded bob into a more casual yet classy hairstyle and added a few fashionable items such as new shoes and a new jacket to add to his attire 

which you may have stolen from the oaca boys’ closets but what they don’t know won’t kill them

before you walked through the school building to get to class, you were pleasantly surprised when quanzhe confidently slipped his hand into yours and pressed his lips to your forehead sweetly

the “nerd” of the school was shy no longer

despite the differences you two had, you worked well with each other

you taught quanzhe how to be more confident in himself, constantly reminding him of all of the good he has in him

on the other hand, he never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated 

to you, quanzhe was perfect

sorry i didn’t know how to end that

it’s almost 4am and i’ve spent hours writing this

lowkey delirious rn

i apologize for any mistakes i missed

also

pls give this little hamster lots of love and support

stan li quanzhe

[artificialqueens]

Here I Go Again! (Group Fic) - Epilogue - pureCAMP

A/N - important notice!! there is some smutty smutty smut smut in this, but i didnt write it!! plz send ur love to citrus aka @pianowired bc she wrote it and its absolutely excellent. plz enjoy! (and let me know if a part 2 is needed! <3)

Raja had seen a lot of action, in her time, both for her friends and for herself. She remembered her first was skinny and scrawny as most fifteen year olds are, and he hadn’t impressed her.  He was too excited to actually be inside a girl, and barely lasted two minutes. Of course, she’d told her girls all about it, how it wasn’t really worth the hype, but still worth trying.

  Then was her second, around her sixteenth birthday, and if she remembered correctly, Jinkx had gotten laid that night too. Her ginger friend had admitted that she could barely look the nameless girl in the eye when she awoke, but had enjoyed it nevertheless. In the meantime, they teased Sharon about her chastity, despite it not being her choice. The poor girl was convinced her religious mother had eyes everywhere, and she wasn’t too far from the truth. Whenever the three got up to no good, there always seemed to be someone to report back to Sharon’s mother and get her into trouble.

  For the next two years, Raja lived her life as a hoe and was thoroughly enjoying it. Her experiences ranged from poor to… satisfactory, at best, and she detailed each one to her girls, occasionally expressing her sympathy for Sharon. It wasn’t from lack of interest or trying, bless her, but her mother’s insistence on wearing that damn cross around her neck every day tended to keep boys away. Which was, of course, what the religious old trout wanted it to do.

  Both herself and Jinkx applauded Sharon when she dropped out of high school, all three of them knowing she’d fail regardless, and started to rebel a little more. Their music group was the perfect opportunity to do that - to dress up fashionably, ditch all religious memorabilia and dance away from her mother’s prying eyes. The island a little way off the mainland was their solace, and a great place to pick up boys.

  Around the summer, things changed. Their performances began to bring in more customers to the little tavern, resulting in more ‘fans’ and more guys and girls for Raja and Jinkx to have fun with. One night, she remembered seeing a young guy in the crowd, around their age, watching the show. Normally, Raja would’ve jumped him as soon as the set was over, but his eyes were on Sharon, and Sharon’s eyes were on him, and if this was her friend’s chance to get laid before she turned eighteen, then she’d have to let it happen.

  It was so much more than that in the end. Sharon, now glowing with this new life, detailed all of her experiences to them with her eyes shining. She didn’t retell the stories like Raja did, mentioning the rough movements and emotional detachment from the whole thing. It seemed as though she loved him. Of course, she told them all about going rough and hard and fast, but it always seemed to end with cuddling, with kisses, with romantic walks on the beach as the sun set around them.

  So now all three of them were living the hoe life. It was fun, but it didn’t last.

  After Justin left, Sharon became solitary. She was never around in the daytime like she normally would be, to laugh with Raja and Jinkx and listen to stories and just have fun. Raja shared with Jinkx and Jinkx shared with Raja, and they only saw her when they were performing and a few times in between. She seemed distant.

  Looking back, Raja knew now that it was because her sly dog of a once religious virgin friend had in fact been sneaking off to have rebound flings with two other guys in order to cope with her heartbreak. Back then, they’d just assumed she wanted to be alone.

  So, to cut a long story short, the last of their group to lose her virginity, and the first of the group to ever be in love with someone she’d had sex with, had fallen pregnant. For a good year after the news was revealed to them - through a skin-tight costume that wouldn’t zip up and a tummy that seemed just a little too round to be puppy fat - the hoe life died down. Raja didn’t feel like she could just run off to find a guy and fuck him when her best friend was miserable, heartbroken, hormonal and alone. Call her selfish, but she also didn’t want to be caught in the same predicament.

  With one of her best friends then busy with a newborn, Raja got back out into the dating pool, so to speak. At twenty one, she met her first husband. He was okay-looking, really, tanned with black hair and piercing eyes. Her father paid for the wedding, and he paid for Raja’s surgeries to enhance her bust, and he didn’t fuck too badly, but his lips were larger and faker than her own, and it started to put her off a little. One and a half years later, she divorced him.

  “You paying him back for those?” Sharon had joked, tickling her then-five-year-old Trixie with one hand as she gestured at Raja’s chest with the other.

  “Oh, please.” Raja had responded. “He paid for these and they’re still not as big as yours.”

  Husband number two was a little better, but not much. He owned an international cruise line, so combining Raja’s family wealth with his was pretty luxurious. For a couple of years, she hardly saw her friends, communicating mostly through letters from wherever the cruise ship took them. It was a time of expensive face creams that contained flakes of gold, designer shoes, and world tours to places she’d never even dreamed of seeing.

  But he was boring. Rich, handsome, and oh-so-boring. His every word was a drag, he was a complete drip, and he had the personality of wet toilet paper. He had to go, and two years later he was gone.

  “Gold flakes…” Jinkx had mocked. “And what else? Donkey testicles? Mashed up goats liver? None of my girlfriends have ever cared if I look a little strange.”

  Raja had shrugged and laughed. “If I want to day drink all year round, it’s the price I have to pay.”

  “God, I haven’t day drank in forever. I haven’t night drank in forever. I’m busy being an adult whilst you guys go off and single-handedly date the entire planet.”

  Husband three had taken a while to propose, which was getting on Raja’s nerves, but other than that minor flaw he was perfect. Handsome, well-off, and just the right amount of emotionally involved. He wouldn’t cling, he wouldn’t ignore her, it was just as close to perfect as she could get. That was her happiest wedding day, even if her father had drawn the line and refused to pay for it.

  It really seemed like this one would stand the tests of time and Raja’s ever-changing nature.

  “So you’ve finally found the one?” Sharon had asked, flipping through Raja’s years of wedding photos. In each picture from each wedding, Raja had a different husband and Jinkx had a different lady-friend (she wasn’t very into commitment), but Sharon had the same plus one - her daughter. It was no secret that her days of dating and sex seemed to be over already. She never expressed the feeling, but Raja could tell that it hurt her a little.

  “I hope so. You think your man is waiting for you somewhere?” Raja had replied.

  Sharon laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, he’s out there.” She’d said bitterly. “With someone else, telling her she’s his soulmate.”

  It really did last. Eleven years they were married, and Raja was pretty content. But it seemed that all good things came to an end, whether she wanted them to or not.

  Truthfully, it was her fault. He was kind and sweet and he wanted to be a father. Raja, having intimately witnessed a pregnancy, the birth and watched the child grow up, didn’t want to be a mother. Of course it was magical for Sharon, and she’d never bash her friend for her decision - not after so fiercely defending her to people, even all these years later. Besides, she knew it would be different for her than it had been for Sharon, considering she was thirty six, twice the age that Sharon had been, but she was still put off. She’d never wanted children anyway, and the whole process freaked her out. For others, she was supportive. For herself, she was an inch away from disgusted.

  It was just one of those differences that tears people apart. Their arrangement was no longer working, not really.

  The divorce was a painful one. As she sobbed into Sharon’s chest, Jinkx awkwardly rubbing her back, it seemed to hit her at once that her friend was something of a superhero. Now that she was experiencing heartbreak, she finally understood what Sharon had been through and how hard it must’ve been to carry on. Yet the way she so expertly comforted her showed just how incredible of a mother she’d been, and how she’d relaxed into the role and learned exactly what to do.

  Last time Raja had checked, even though she swore she wasn’t going to, his new wife - blonde, pretty, the works - was six months pregnant. Fine, that was fine. He’d moved on. Raja moved on too.

  Her tricks were getting younger, truth be told. In recent years, the younger men had become even more open about their admiration for older ladies, and whilst Raja was in no way old, she appreciated the attention. With a little bit of Botox, she was pretty much the young man’s dream.

  Still, hooking up with one of Sharon’s hotel slaves, as she so affectionately had nicknamed them, felt a little strange. Karl had told her that he was twenty one, so at the very least he was older than Trixie.

  Admittedly, he was one of the better ones. He wasn’t disgustingly hairy, like some men who tried to approach her, but he also wasn’t pre-pubescent and hairless. Clean shaven, the way she liked it. He was fairly muscular, Filipino, and had a strange streak of blonde in his dark hair. Whether that was a fashion of the youth or not, she didn’t care. Raja still tugged on it in bed with him after the hen party had been infiltrated by the stag do.

  He was skilled enough that, the next morning when Raja crept away so that she didn’t have to sleep besides him any longer, she simply went to beach and lay out in the sun to relax. Her energy was somewhat spent and she needed the ache to subside before she got ready for the wedding.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Raja didn’t even bother opening her eyes. “Babe?”

  Karl lay down next to her, getting sand on the beach towel. “You heard me. I called you babe.”

  “Oh, lord.” Raja scoffed. “Babe indeed. I could be your mother, near enough. Speaking of, where is she? Does she know you’re out?”

  Karl rolled his eyes. “You can’t ignore the chemistry between us, Raj. I know you feel it. I know you felt it last night.”

  He smiled, blindingly white teeth flashing in her direction. Raja hadn’t seen teeth that white since she’d flown out to the clinic to pay for a whitening herself.

  “You’re so cute,” She teased, watching how he tried and failed to compose himself. “I know what you want, sweetcheeks. But you’re playing with fire, and your fingers are gonna get burnt.”

  Karl seemed unfazed. “What if I’d walk through fire for you? What if I’m fireproof?”

  Raja laughed, surprised at his persistence. “I like your style, kid. Just make sure you let your mother know that you’re out, honey.”

  In one smooth motion, Karl rolled over so he was positioned above Raja, kissing along the marked spots on her neck and collarbone. He might’ve been young, but he smelled like sea-salt and he tasted like honey and he sent waves of fire rolling through her body. In all honesty, he was the first to actually make Raja feel young again. Like any minute now she’d be caught, messing around in the sand with a guy she knew almost nothing about. It was thrilling, but she couldn’t exactly let him win.

  “Nice try,” Raja breathed, flipping him over. “Take it easy, slow down. That’s no way to go, now is it?”

  Pinned underneath her, Karl smiled wickedly. “I don’t suppose you wanna show me how it should be done, then?”

  Raja considered it. She could teach him a few new tricks, that would be fun. Combining the young man’s stamina with the older woman’s expertise would definitely, definitely be fun. But on the other hand, they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t like Raja had a stuffy old husband to go home to anymore - she didn’t have anyone waiting for her. Right now, the only person who wanted her attention was Karl, and he seemed happy to wait.

  Besides; she had a wedding to get ready for. She’d wasted enough precious time fooling around in the sand. If she was going to look suitable for this wedding, she needed to start getting ready early. Plus, Sharon would throw an absolute fit if she knew that Raja was distracting one of her hotel slaves.

  “Meet me after the wedding reception.” Raja told him, extending a long, tan leg close to his face. “Maybe then I’ll dance with you.”

  —

  Night had fallen by the time Trixie was changed, packed, and down at the docks ready to leave. Sharon had been rushing around in a flurry to ensure her daughter had everything she’d need, and then some. Call her over-protective and paranoid, but her little girl was leaving home for the first time, going out into the world to find adventures and experiences. It would be nerve-wracking for any mother.

  Around the four of them, a chilly sea breeze blew. The sky was inky, the sea like molten silver as the moonlight glittered off the surface. Everything was still and silent, besides the bobbing of the little boat that would be taking Trixie and Brian to the mainland. Stars twinkled high above.

  “You sure you’ve got everything?” Sharon worried, shivering on the deck. She rubbed her arms to try and warm them, and only moments later, Justin’s suit jacket had been placed over her shoulders.

  Trixie smiled, humouring her. “Yes, mom. I was sure the first time, long before you triple-checked it all.”

  Brian and Justin shared a laugh, their matching grins widening as Sharon playfully shoved them both.

  “Alright, alright. Sorry. It’s a mom thing, I guess. Worrying so much.”

  Shaking his head, Brian smiled. “Sharon, I’ll take good care of her, not that she needs it.”

  Justin chuckled. “I’m sure after being raised by you, she could take on anything.”

  “You’re probably right.” Sharon grinned. “Well. Don’t let me keep you waiting.”

  Her tone changed; quieter, a little more forlorn. It had been the most perfect day ever, and there was no denying that, but goodbyes were always difficult. Sharon’s last goodbye had been tinged with heartbreak, and this one just felt like letting go. She’d always known, really, that the tiny baby who was lulled to sleep by her heartbeat and the gentle rocking of the chair would one day have to leave home. She herself had done it, albeit under different circumstances. Even so, as a mom, she wanted to keep Trixie wrapped up in swaddling blankets forever.

  Trixie threw her arms around her in a hug, squeezing tight the way she always did. Sharon blinked back her tears when she pulled away, offering a weak smile and leaning forwards to hug Brian, too. Her heart skipped a few beats when she noticed Trixie hugging Justin, planting a kiss on his cheek and whispering her goodbyes.

  It was like they were a real family.

  “Go, go on already!” Sharon half-joked, pushing the two lovers towards their boat and trying to ignore how choked up she felt. “God, you kids… Driving me crazy, I tell you. Go on, go and see the world.”

  Justin kissed the top of Sharon’s head and began to help Trixie and Brian loading their bags onto the boat. Before long they were waving goodbye, growing smaller and smaller in the horizon. Sharon didn’t stop waving until they were a mere dot in the distance, not visible against the night sky nor with Sharon’s rapidly-blurring vision.

  “Hey, hey… It’s okay. I’m here.” Justin’s voice was gentle, calming. He pulled Sharon against his chest, sparing her the embarrassment of crying in front of him, and soothingly rubbed her back.

  “My daughter just left home.” Sharon sniffed, muffled against his shirt. “I feel like the definition of not okay.”

  He leant down and kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “I know. But she said she’ll write, and she’s so excited for this. She’s like how we used to be.”

  Justin began to walk away from the docks, one hand in Sharon’s, heading towards the taverna. “Remember? Life was so exciting. The world was this brand new place and we’d get to discover it all.”

  Sharon snorted in spite of herself. “Of course I do. But don’t you think we’re a little old for that now?”

  “Old? You make us sound like pensioners.” Justin laughed. “Babe, we’re both thirty eight. Not even forty yet. That’s not old. Some people call it the prime years.”

  He nudged his wife suggestively, to which she burst out laughing. “Uh huh, sure. You really think we’re better now than we were twenty years ago? I’m saggier, fatter, wrinklier… the list goes on.”

  “You’re so stupid. I don’t see any of that.” Justin defended her, squeezing her hand. “You’re curvy, you’re beautiful… you still have those slutty lips that I love.”

  Sharon gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, acting scandalized. “Slutty lips?! And you call yourself a gentleman?!”

  Justin shrugged. “So you’re saying that when we fuck, it won’t be as good as it used to be? You’re not slutty anymore?”

  “No! I’m not saying that!”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “I don’t know, it sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”

  “It won’t be worse! It’ll be better!”

  “Prove it.”

  The challenging gleam in Justin’s eyes sent waves of heat rolling through Sharon’s body. Fuck, she’d missed him. The taunts, the teasing, the dirty talk and the mischievous behaviour. It was ridiculous that she could still feel like she was eighteen even now, just being in his presence. He hadn’t changed a bit, and he was making her run wild.

  “We’re not going to make it to my house, are we?” Sharon asked, half-joking, half-sultry and narrow-eyed.

  Justin’s face was a picture of bliss. “Mmm… I don’t think so. But hey, I see our cabin is still standing. Maybe we should re-acquaint ourselves.”

  Sharon shook her head, laughing. “You… you’re the reason I’m so bad. Cabin it is, before I fucking explode.”

*

The two of them all but ran to the cabin, Justin’s arms flying to Sharon’s waist as she kicked the door closed. As soon as they were alone he kissed her, and it was everything and nothing like she remembered. It was the same passion, the same fire, but his soft lips were accompanied by scratchy stubble and his arms were stronger and more defined than they’d been twenty years ago.

  “Bed,” Sharon demanded as she broke the kiss, pulling Justin across the cabin and into the small, doorless bedroom. The bed was decently sized, fitted with clean white sheets that told Justin that Sharon had been taking care of the cabin even after all this time. He kissed her again, laying her down on the bed and slotting a leg between her thighs as her tongue dipped into his mouth.

  “Told you I love these slutty lips,” he mumbled against her mouth, hands pushing her skirt up her hips. Sharon chuckled, unbuttoning Justin’s shirt and shoving it off his shoulders before trailing a hand down his chest. He was softer than he’d been before, no longer skinny and gangly, and he shivered under her touch after twenty years of deprivation.

  “You’ve certainly aged better than I have,” Sharon grinned as he tossed his hair in mock vanity.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

  Sharon scoffed. “Sure.”

  “I mean it,” he insisted, moving the top of her dress down too so that the garment was bunched around her waist. “You’re gorgeous no matter how you look. Also, no bra? Really? It’s like you planned this.”

  Sharon laughed and shrugged, her giggle turning into a low moan as Justin rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ll be happy to know I decided against going commando while we sent our daughter and her boyfriend off to travel the world.”

  Justin smiled, snapping the elastic of her underwear against her hip and grinning wider when she yelped in surprise. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Sharon rolled her eyes, pulling him in for another kiss.

  “Can you cut the crap and fuck me already?” she mumbled against his lips, pulling his hands down to rest on her thighs and placing her own hands on his hips. He laughed as she cupped his growing erection through his trousers, squeezing lightly and making him groan.

  “So needy, always so needy,” he teased, shucking off his trousers while Sharon freed herself completely from her dress. She let out a low moan as his long, slender fingers teased her through the fabric of her panties, feeling her beginning to get wet from his touch. “Shh, patience, love. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Just like old times, eh?”

  “I’d say a bit different. I’m not the skinny little slip of a thing I used to be.”

  “Sharon Needles, can you stop putting yourself down for a moment and let me worship you the way you deserve? God, you’re still so stubborn.” Sharon nearly protested, but then Justin’s fingers were pushing her underwear aside and grazing over her folds, and she could only let out a soft moan. “That shut you up, huh?”

  “Shut up and fuck me,” Sharon demanded, pushing his hand away and her panties down with it. Justin shot her one of those stupidly adorable grins of his as he slid out of his own underwear and kissed at her jaw and neck again. “Jesus, babe, age made you slow.”

  “If you want to get fucked, you’ll stop complaining,” Justin growled softly, one hand squeezing lightly at the sides of her throat. Sharon felt another rush of heat pass through her body; she’d always been a sucker for Justin showing dominance, and it seemed as though nothing much had changed in the two decades they’d been apart. His hand moved to rest at the base of her throat, barely even touching her, and she raised an eyebrow.

  “You’ve still got it,” she said appreciatively. “Thought you might.”

  “Course I do,” Justin replied, sliding his hand down her body to spread her open and press a finger into her, making her whine. “You drive me crazy, Sharon.”

  “More, Justin,” she complained, arching up into his touch as he added a second finger and his thumb found her sensitive bud. “Christ, fuck me. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “We both have,” Justin agreed as he drew his fingers out of her and lined up with her entrance. “You sure you don’t wanna change positions?”

  “It’s not gonna do my back any favors,” she answered. “Told you I wasn’t the kid I used to be.”

  “Shush,” Justin bade her, running his thumb across her lower lip and gazing into her eyes with so much love she thought she might melt. She hadn’t seen him look at her like that in all their years apart, and if she was telling the truth, no one could ever fill the gap Justin had left in her life. But he was here now, his hands on her thighs, his lips on her lips, and oh, how Sharon had missed him. He was hot and hard against her, and when he pressed just past her entrance she sighed.

  “More, baby,” she encouraged, pulling him down by the shoulders to kiss the corner of his mouth.

  “You sure, love? It’s been a long time and I-”

  “I’m sure,” Sharon promised, all but a whisper against his skin. He pushed a little further, and Sharon’s back arched to take him deeper into her warmth, kissing him deep and hard. She didn’t stop until his hips were flush against hers and he was buried inside her completely, and he panted against her neck as they both adjusted to the sensations wracking their bodies.

  “You… oh, Sharon, you feel so good,” Justin groaned, gasping when she clenched around him with a smirk. When he rolled his hips, she whimpered loudly, kissing him desperately.

  “I’ve been desperate to have your cock inside me for the last twenty years,” she mumbled roughly, “Memories are never as good as the real thing. I’ve never- fuck– I’ve never been this full.”

  “No one else,” Justin promised as he withdrew a few inches before pushing back in, making Sharon gasp. “No one else can do it like you, babe. No one else can take it like you.”

  “Please, baby,” she begged as he began to increase the pace and depth of his thrusts, his grip on her hips so tight she was sure there would be bruises later. “Fuck, J-Justin…” Justin was perfection, he always had been; he filled her so completely and took her apart effortlessly, making her feel like she was coming apart at the seams and melting into the mattress. She didn’t know his history after he’d left the island– there would be time for that later –but there was no doubt that he’d only grown more skilled with age. It was like he could see right through her and into the place where she kept her deepest desires; every single thrust was perfect, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through her body unlike anything she’d experienced since their last time together. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and he kissed her with all the passion and sweetness of a first love that had never really faded.

  Desire coursed through Sharon like a wildfire, igniting every nerve in her body and setting her alight with pleasure. She could tell Justin was nearing the edge from the way that his hips began to stutter slightly, but he was doing an astounding job of keeping his steady pace. Sharon pulled her legs to her chest, changing the angle and allowing him to move even deeper inside her, speeding up and fucking her harder and faster. The bed rocked against the wall of the cabin as Justin lost his controlled rhythm and gave into his body, letting Sharon pull him down for a kiss as his hips slammed against her soft thighs.

  Sharon came first, a hoarse shout of ecstasy leaving her lips as every single thrust of Justin’s hips allowed him to ram against the spot deep inside her that made her see stars. Her nails raked down his back as she threw her head back and sobbed with the sheer pleasure of it all, drawing a hiss from Justin and resulting in him planting sloppy kisses all over her mouth like a teenager with poor aim. He finished with a rough cry of “Sharon,” and a final snap of his hips, coming deep and hard inside her and all but collapsing on her chest. The two of them lay like that for several moments, completely spent and trying to catch their breath, and Sharon’s lips lingered against Justin’s cheek, her fingers running over the angry red marks she’d created on his skin.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she chuckled, “I guess you really do make me feel young again.” Justin let out a breathless laugh at that, carefully pulling out of her and moving to collapse on the bed beside her. She nestled herself into his arms, slotting her thigh between his legs.

  “Just like old times, mm?”

  “Just like the good old days,” Sharon agreed teasingly. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be able to do better than we used to. I’m impressed.”

  Justin smiled lazily, shifting slightly and kissing Sharon’s cheek. “Wanna know what pushed me over the edge?”

  “Sure,” she laughed, “But proceed with caution.”

  “I was thinking about how beautiful you looked under me, and then I just had the thought pop into my head that wow, that’s my wife. You’re my wife.”

  Sharon let out an airy laugh, snuggling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “Mhmm,” she hummed contentedly, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “…Sharon?”

  “Hm?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  —

  Justin wasn’t an idiot.

  For his first move after the wedding, he’d told Sharon in no uncertain terms that she needed a break. After all, he’d witnessed how frantic she was for the few days that he’d been on the island. He could’ve sworn that she didn’t sleep, eat or relax at any point, just work work work. She needed a break, some time off.

  Of course, time had slightly altered his memories of just how stubborn she was. There was no way she was going to be leaving her hotel, not a chance in Heaven or Hell. She’d put her foot down and that was it, decision made.

  Only Justin wasn’t that much of a pushover, and so began their at-home honeymoon. The young men, guided by Raja and Jinkx, were in charge of the hotel for a while, whilst Sharon and Justin roamed around the island, enjoying their time together.

  It was nice to watch her relax, really. In the sunlight, with her hair cascading down her back rather than tied up, and her face smooth rather than pinched with stress, she could’ve passed for eighteen again. He’d forgotten just how captivating her eyes were, a deeper blue than any expanse of ocean they could see. He’d forgotten how funny her laugh was, the utter cackle that came out of her. He’d forgotten the beauty in her smile.

  Really, he could spend all day listing off the beautiful things that he started to remember during their at-home honeymoon, but Sharon wouldn’t give him the chance. She was as needy and desperate as the day they’d met, and he certainly wasn’t complaining.

  It wasn’t all sex, though. Sometimes they both needed a break, and they had twenty one years of talking to do.

  “Jinkx took this, about two hours after I gave birth. Look at her tiny little fist around my finger.” Sharon held up the photo so Justin could see. Heart squeezing, he wrapped his arms around his wife even tighter.

  “I can’t believe I never knew about all this.” He replied, refusing to take his eyes off his then-newborn daughter. “She looks so much like you.”

  Sharon chuckled. “She always did. I miss her so much.”

  That day, Sharon had taken Justin on her proper tour of her tiny home. He already knew what the rooms looked like, having stayed there since the wedding, but she took him around to the lumps and bumps and chips and cracks, naming each one as incidents that had happened when Trixie was little - all the parts of their lives that he’d missed. Now, he saw the house in a whole new light, full of life and memories and little remnants of the past.

  “This one is sweet.” Justin picked up another of the photos spread across Sharon’s - their - bed. “How old is she here?”

  The photo showed Trixie, cheesing at the camera from her perch on Sharon’s shoulders. Her blonde hair was in two plaits, with a pink cowboy hat on her head and a blue princess dress. Sharon was giggling up at her daughter, seemingly unaware that the photo was being taken, in a summer dress that matched Trixie’s.

  Sharon studied it, smiling faintly, then flipped it over. On the back, almost illegible writing read ‘Princess Trixabelle Parton (3) and Mama Sharon (21) go on an adventure to the marketplace to find some lunch (MS) and defeat some evil (PTP).’

  “Those were the days.” She murmured, biting her lip. “I used to wonder how different my life would be without having Trixie, but she made everything better. I’m sure drinking at twenty one is fun, but playing with Princess Trixabelle Parton was fun too. There’s no comparison.”

  Justin kissed her forehead. “God, you’re fucking magical, you know that?”

  Sharon’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, which she dabbed at in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent them from falling. In spite of herself, she giggled a little.

  “I can’t believe she’s all gr-grown up, I still worry about her so much. She better send me another letter soon.” She paused. “I really miss these days.”

  Unable to stand the sight of her tears, Justin pulled Sharon closer and closer until her face was buried in his chest yet again. Once he could feel her sobs gently deteriorating into laughter, he pulled her away and tucked the photo into his pocket.

  “I’ll tell you what. We should go on our own market adventure today. Let’s buy something weird and make a day of it. We could even take a boat to the mainland and see if Trixie’s sent anything for us. I asked the guy on the boat when he gave you the letter last week, and he said that he’s happy to pass on letters but we’ll have to collect any parcels for ourselves.”

  Sharon considered him. “You know what… that sounds nice! I’ll get dressed, hold on.”

  In a matter of moments, she’d removed her pyjama top with an extravagant flourish, causing Justin to burst into laughter.

  “I swear I’ve put weight on, this is your fault.” She balled the shirt up and threw it at Justin’s head, childishly blowing raspberries at him when he ducked and missed it. “Look at me!”

  She poked her stomach, puffing her cheeks out. Rolling his eyes, Justin threw her shirt back.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Put some clothes on, nympho.”

  Sharon laughed appreciatively. “Fair, fair. Do you think we could skip the market, though? Recently the smell of all the fish has been making me really nauseous, and I don’t wanna throw up on you in that shirt. You look good in that shirt.”

  It wasn’t long after their day out that Justin started to suspect. Of course, he’d never blindly say a thing out loud, for fear of castration via kitchen knives, but he was definitely beginning to notice a few telling changes, even if Sharon wasn’t. The nausea, for example. The breath-taking way she’d started to fill her clothes.

  In fact, he tried to mention it to her once. She was having none of it.

  “Nope. Where did you get that from?”

  “I just thought maybe-”

  “You’re crazy, Justin. I love you, but you’re crazy.”

  “I mean, we have been-”

  “It’s just not realistic, babe!”

  “It’s possible, I guess I just-”

  “Possible? At my age?”

  “You’re not old! In fact, you’re perfectly-”

  “You’re off your head, babe. I think the sea salt is getting to your brain.”

  “But don’t you think-”

  “Nah, it can’t be. Justin, I’m not pregnant.”

  So they dropped the subject. She wasn’t, because Justin was clearly crazy and seeing things that weren’t there. She continued to deny it even when he hadn’t brought it up, which made him laugh. Justin knew Sharon wasn’t exactly… bright. Eventually she’d catch on.

  ‘Eventually’ turned out to be a week from their debate. Justin was sprawled across the bed, half-asleep in sweatpants and a face-mask that she’d insisted they both try. He was forced awake as the bathroom door slammed open, revealing a distressed Sharon with a mouthful of toothpaste foam, a toothbrush in one hand and a pregnancy test in the other.

  “‘Ow did thi’ ‘appen?” She managed to say, leaning into the sink to spit and then returning. “How?!”

  Justin shrugged. “I guess someone decided that the best way to clean your teeth is with a little brush on the end of a stick, so you can really get in there and scrub.”

  Sharon dropped the toothbrush. “Not that, doofus. This!”

  “Did… Did you forget that we’ve been having like… a lot of sex?” Justin tried.

  She shook her head. “Well, of course not.”

  “And the fact that we ran out of condoms within a week?”

  “No.”

  “And that when I told you, you said it didn’t matter and we didn’t need any more?”

  “No.”

  “Well… that’ll be why.”

  Justin watched Sharon’s face, trying to gauge her feelings. She was almost impossible to read sometimes, what with years of hiding her feelings under her belt. He decided to tread carefully, pushing down the rising excitement that he felt inside him.

  “But… we’re old!” She protested. “I really didn’t think this could happen, if I’m honest.”

  Smiling gently, Justin beckoned her to come and lay on the bed with him. The sun was just starting to set, and as she nestled into his arms, golden sunlight filtered through the window and made patterns on the wall. Sharon kept staring at the test in her hand, encompassed by Justin’s warmth.

  “How do you feel about this?” He whispered.

  Sharon swallowed. “It’s… unexpected. How… how do you feel?”

  “I feel amazing.” He admitted quietly, his heart softening as Sharon smiled. “I can be here for you this time, every step of the way.”

  He placed his hand on top of Sharon’s, both of them on her stomach. For a few, peaceful moments, they lay there in silence.

  Sharon was first to break it. “God, I can’t believe those bitches were right. It’s like Raja and Jinkx can predict the fucking future.”

  Justin laughed. “Well. As I’m sure you’ll remember, I’m in if you’re in.”

  The nostalgia registered on Sharon’s face instantly. The first time they’d met - all those years ago - the two of them said it a lot. When faced with a freezing cold plunge pool and no clothes, Justin simply shrugged “I’m in if you’re in.” When coming up with a plan to cause some minor havoc, the two of them in pain from laughing so hard, Sharon managed “I’m in if you’re in!”

  It had been years since either of them had said or even heard those words.

  “I’m in.”