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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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“Uptown girl -- You know I can't afford to buy her pearls, But maybe someday when my ship comes in, She'll understand what kind of guy I've been, And then I'll win!”

~“Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel

x~x~x~x

Bill Weasley had always had trouble relating to kids his age. As the oldest of seven kids, he’d pretty quickly slipped into the role of support for his mother Molly, parenting and looking after his younger siblings while his father Arthur was at work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Even when he was little, there wasn’t really anyone his age in his tiny hometown of Ottery St. Catchpole. All of the other magical families with kids in the area were much younger than Bill, and it was always a tricky proposition trying to play with the Muggle children who lived closest to the Burrow, with the Statute of Secrecy looming large. So when Bill got to Hogwarts, he found himself almost inevitably falling back on how he acted around his younger siblings, even with kids his own age...which, in turn, made Bill lose his footing, when those kids his age didn’t respond well to being coddled or “looked after.” And given Bill’s rather modest, people-pleasing personality, he wasn’t the type to force anyone to listen to him or do what he said...and so, almost inevitably, he found himself at a loss about how to interact with someone without looking after them in some way, on completely equal footing. And thus Bill Weasley, sweet and amiable as he was, actually found himself largely alone in those first two years he spent at Hogwarts -- and that solitude was something he found out pretty quickly he really didn’t like.

Bill was relieved when his younger brother Charlie started his first year at Hogwarts. Although Bill had trouble admitting to his family just how unhappy he’d been those last two years, the eldest Weasley was secretly relieved that he’d now have some family at school too. He had always been closest to Charlie out of all of his siblings, given their closeness in age, so it was comforting to know he’d at least have one friend to spend time with, when he wasn’t in class. Charlie’s year, however, also included a ginger-haired Slytherin girl called Cromwell -- the same surname as the infamous “delinquent” Jacob Cromwell, who’d been expelled from Hogwarts and disappeared mysteriously a few years ago.

Bill first heard about Jacob Cromwell’s sister Carewyn through Charlie, who’d heard that she’d stood up to another Slytherin in their year, Merula Snyde, for bullying Charlie’s timid dormmate Ben Copper and even defeated her in a duel with a Disarming Charm, a spell not taught until at least Bill’s year. Despite himself, Bill actually felt a bit relieved -- he hadn’t known Jacob Cromwell at all, but he figured it had to have been really difficult, for someone to lose their only sibling. Even if he didn’t know Carewyn Cromwell at all, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her...but at least if she was still confident enough to stand up for herself and others, then it probably meant she was doing okay, even with what had happened to her and her family. And his analysis seemed to be confirmed when Carewyn sought Bill out to get his help the following year with breaking the curse on the Ice Vault. From the moment they first met, Bill made up his mind -- Carewyn Cromwell needed someone to look after her, so he would, until she found her brother again. And so Bill and Carewyn became friends.

In Bill’s fifth year, he was named Gryffindor Prefect. It was a rather obvious choice for Minerva McGonagall, considering Bill’s predisposition to “look after” and mentor younger students, but it still filled Arthur and Molly Weasley with immense pride. It was also the first year that Bill and Charlie invited Carewyn home for the holidays, upon hearing that her mother Lane had been commissioned by the Ministry of Magic for an international assignment and wouldn’t be able to be home in time for Christmas. When he heard Merula Snyde also wouldn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, Bill made the remarkably kind move to invite her to the Burrow as well, even with Charlie and Carewyn’s misgivings -- but that holiday ended up being one of the best all four of them had ever had. Merula and Carewyn were even able to mend fences enough to sing Christmas carols together, the first’s clear Soprano voice hovering ethereally over the second’s warm, emotional Alto harmonies. That Christmas was also the year Carewyn gave Bill his very first record -- an album called An Innocent Man, by an Muggle artist named Billy Joel. Arthur Weasley was almost more thrilled by the gift than his son was, and he immediately brought out the Muggle record player he’d...”been allowed to take home” from work so Carewyn could show the Weasleys how to play the record on it. And for the rest of the winter break, it wasn’t uncommon for one of the Weasleys to put the record on in the background while doing dishes or playing a game of Wizard’s Chess in front of the fire. The song from the record Bill found himself humming the most, even after returning to Hogwarts, was the first song on side two of the record. He’d liked the tune immediately just because it was fun...but it also reminded him of a girl in his year he’d been trying to muster up the courage to talk to -- a very pretty and daring Gryffindor named Emily Tyler.

“And when she's walking, she's looking so fine, And when she's talking, she'll say that she's mine... She'll say I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl!”

Emily Tyler was the most popular girl in Bill’s year, as well as one of the most popular in Gryffindor house overall. She’d made a name for herself at the Dueling Club, where she remained Gryffindor’s main champion -- it was likely only thanks to Hufflepuff’s own dueling prodigy, Diego Caplan, that Emily had any competition at all. She also was top of her class in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Bill’s favorite and best subject, even managing to Stun an entire flock of bats with one spell. And coupled with that talent was a lot of style, confidence, and ability to captivate and charm others. She never seemed uncomfortable in a crowd and never seemed to be at a loss for words around her peers -- something Bill himself still struggled with. She’d even expressed some interest in Cursebreaking post-Hogwarts, gushing about the acclaim and glamour of the profession. In short, in Bill’s eyes, Emily just seemed amazing -- a bit out of his league, sure...but maybe if he was brave and put himself out there, she might give him a chance!

So one day, right around spring break, Bill passed Emily a note in Defense Against the Dark Arts, asking her to meet him in the castle courtyard. The eldest Weasley was kind of an emotional wreck on the inside, absolutely beside himself with nerves, but he put on his bravest face anyway. He’d even brought a pink rose, which he tried to keep out of sight in his back pocket until Emily arrived. It was the flower that caught Carewyn’s eye, when she was passing through the castle courtyard.

The third-year Slytherin had been planning on meeting up with Ben and Rowan in the library so they could study up for an upcoming Charms test, but she put that on hold, seeing her friend Bill sitting alone in the courtyard, as if waiting for someone. Normally she would've gone over to say hello, but the pink rose in Bill’s pocket made her give pause -- a fortunate thing too, for not long later, Bill shot to his feet as Emily Tyler entered the courtyard. She was dressed head-to-toe in bright pink, with her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail and her makeup impeccably neat. She wasn’t alone -- several other boys and girls were with her, all talking to her animatedly. They reluctantly waited for her at the edge of the courtyard, their eyes locked on her as she approached Bill. The scrutiny from Emily’s cohorts clearly intimidated Bill, but he didn’t let it rattle him. He faced his crush with the best smile he could.

“Hi, Emily,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming -- I know you’re pretty busy with the Dueling Club...”

“I am,” assented Emily. Her voice was matter-of-fact.

Bill gave a weak, uncomfortable laugh. “Well, uh...I won’t take up too much of your time, then. I just wanted to...er...”

He took the pink rose out of his back pocket and offered it to her. Emily blinked down at it in surprise.

“I wanted to...give this to you,” said Bill with a modest smile. “Pink is your favorite color, I’ve heard. Not that I’ve been eavesdropping on you or anything,” he said very quickly, “I just heard you tell one of your friends that once, last month, and...”

Carewyn felt very uncomfortable, listening to this. Deciding at once that the whole thing really wasn’t her business and that Bill deserved his privacy, she turned to go. She probably would’ve walked away, were it not for how disdainful Emily's voice sounded, when she spoke.

“Is this...some sort of confession?”

Carewyn immediately stopped and turned back around. Emily was looking from her friends on the sidelines to Bill, her face twisted in a very critical, flabbergasted sort of look.

Bill, to his credit, somehow managed to keep a weak smile on, even as her brought up a hand to rub behind his neck uncomfortably.

“Well, uh...yes! I guess so. I...was sort of hoping we might be able to hang out sometime...maybe get some butterbeers in Hogsmeade or something -- ”

Emily’s eyes had widened little by little with every word out of Bill’s mouth until, finally, she brought them to an abrupt halt when she started to laugh.

“You -- you’re serious?” she said incredulously. She glanced over to her friends on the sidelines and then around the rest of the courtyard, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind a nearby pillar. “This is a joke, right? Tell me this is a joke.”

Her laugh and slightly louder voice had caught the attention of some other students close by. Her friends over by the entrance of the courtyard were exchanging disbelieving looks and whispers among themselves.

Bill’s smile faded.

“A joke?” he repeated blankly. “No -- it’s not a -- ”

Emily fixed Bill with a rather pitying, condescending look as she slipped the pink rose out of his hand.

“Look, Bill,” she said very coolly, “you’re cute and all -- but you really think you’re my type? You’re a Weasley. Prefect or no, you’re still a blood traitor in messy, second-hand clothes with younger students always tagging along after you like ducklings and a father who chases after Muggle airplanes and scooters rather than work a job that can pay the bills.”

She carelessly dropped the pink rose in the fountain and turned her back on him.

“Maybe actually make something of yourself, and then we can talk.”

Carewyn had been furious at the things Emily Tyler had said -- but it was the absolutely devastated, heartbroken look on Bill’s darkly flushing face that made her snap. In an instant, the third-year Slytherin had barreled right up to the pink-dressed Gryffindor as she rejoined her snickering friends at the side of the courtyard.

“How dare you!”

Emily’s friends all stopped laughing to look down at Carewyn.

“Excuse me?” said Emily, looking down at the much smaller girl with a very condescending eye.

“Bill bared his heart to you just now, and you don’t even care!” Carewyn said fiercely. “Talking about his family being poor and liking Muggle things as if it’s something to be ashamed of...clearly Bill couldn’t have liked you for your personality, because it’s disgusting!”

Emily’s nose wrinkled as she glanced around at her friends. “I don’t think anyone’s surprised you’d throw in your lot with a Weasley, Cursebreaker kid. Your family’s got even less reputation to be proud of -- not to mention your clothes are just as out-of-date as theirs are.”

The boys in the group all gave a low “ooh,” sniggering among themselves.

“Well, fortunately, unlike you, I could care less about my reputation,” Carewyn spat. “And I’m frankly glad of it! Bill is a kind, hardworking person who always puts others first and puts his whole heart into everything he does! If his family’s reputation makes it so you can’t appreciate any of that, then I’d say you’re the one who needs to ‘make something of yourself’ -- ”

“Carey.”

Carewyn felt a hand coming down on her shoulder, almost holding her back. She looked up, to see Bill standing over her. His gaze was locked on Carewyn rather than Emily and his face was very scarlet, but his voice was low and forcibly level.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled.

Carewyn looked at him with concern. “Bill...”

“It’s okay,” said Bill. He forced a thoroughly unconvincing smile. “Let’s just go.”

Carewyn stared at Bill for a long moment, feeling very reluctant to let the issue go. Her eyes then fell away, drifting away -- it seemed they’d acquired an audience, in the rest of the students scattered around the courtyard.

Bill would probably be even more embarrassed, if I escalated things further, she thought guiltily.

Exhaling quietly, Carewyn shot one more very dirty look in Emily’s direction and walked off with Bill. As they walked off, some of Emily’s friends shouted taunts after them.

“‘Mother Duck’ Weasley strikes again!”

“Follow along after Mama, little duckling!”

Carewyn forced herself to keep walking and not turn around. She shot a furtive glance at Bill, and saw that he was doing the exact same thing, even with the ruby red flush in his cheeks and the slight shine to his eyes.

Carewyn followed Bill out of the courtyard, down the hall, through the large double doors, and out onto the castle grounds. The eldest Weasley seemed to be walking with no destination in mind, his gaze endless and his steps aimless. Carewyn could practically feel the misery, shame, hurt, and embarrassment coming off of her friend, and it made her heart hurt. Her gaze fell to her feet as they walked side-by-side together.

“...I guess...it was her, wasn’t it?”

Bill straightened up. He’d clearly forgotten for a moment that Carewyn was there.

“Huh?” he said, before uncomfortably adding, “...W-who?”

“Who you were thinking about, whenever ‘Uptown Girl’ came on.”

Bill flushed a dark red. “What? No, I...what makes you...think there was anyone I was...?”

“Oh, come on, Bill,” said Carewyn with a pitying look. “Your eyes were always so bright, whenever side two started up. I thought...well, there had to be something special you were thinking about, when you heard that one. Even if it wasn’t a specific person...it just felt like that song was something that spoke to you, I guess...”

She offered him a weak, sad smile.

“...It kind of reminded me of when I sing certain songs. Like even if the words are someone else’s, you can sing them like they’re all yours.”

Bill considered Carewyn for a minute. Then, his flush darkening further, he bowed his head.

“...Yeah. I suppose that’s true.”

He gave a low sigh.

“...What did I do wrong, Carewyn?” he asked. “Did I come on too strong? Should I have sent her a note, or asked to meet her somewhere more private?”

Carewyn whirled on Bill with an incredulous look. “What? Bill, you didn’t do anything wrong!"

“Sure feels like it,” mumbled Bill.

Carewyn stopped right in front of Bill, putting her hands on her hips and fixing him with a very reproachful look.

“You listen to me, William Weasley,” she said fiercely. “I may not know anything about that snobbish twit -- ”

“Emily Tyler.”

“ -- I may not know much of anything about her, but I know you, and I know you deserve so much better than how she treated you. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way about you as you do about her, there’s no excuse for how cruel she was to you...all clearly just to save face around those awful friends of hers...”

Bill blinked in surprise. “You reckon?”

“Yeah,” said Carewyn. “She kept glancing at her friends, the whole time. She rejected you that soundly because she thought they wouldn’t approve of you.”

Seeing the look on Bill’s face, she added, “But that shouldn’t matter, Bill! If Emily thinks impressing her friends is more important than being a decent human being, that’s her problem. And if her so-called ‘friends’ are the sort of people who look down their noses at good people like your family...well, clearly Emily Tyler’s a rotten judge of character.”

Bill looked a bit comforted by Carewyn’s words. He tried to smile again, but it still looked halfhearted at best.

“Thanks, Carey,” he said lowly. “It’s just...well, she’s just so amazing. Talented and pretty and perfectly brilliant -- you should see her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I reckon she’s on the NEWT level already. She even said she might like being a Cursebreaker, when she graduates -- travel everywhere, and become world-famous...”

Carewyn brought a hand onto Bill’s shoulder and gave it a supportive squeeze. It felt a little odd: he hadn’t really talked to anyone about his feelings for Emily, and just talking his feelings out, rather than listening to someone else’s...it was something he could only really ever remember doing with his parents, and only occasionally. It was weird, but it felt...nice.

“I just...didn’t think she’d react like that,” Bill admitted. “Not that I expected I’d sweep her off her feet or anything, but...I’d sort of hoped that she’d give me a chance, and that when we went out, we’d get on, and maybe even hit it off...”

He sighed heavily.

“Guess I really don’t know much about love at all, do I?”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “That’s not true at all! You know plenty about love. You love your brothers and Ginny, and your parents...and you love your friends too!”

“That’s really not the same thing,” said Bill.

“It should be,” huffed Carewyn. “Love is love. If you love someone, you care about their happiness more than your own. Sure, maybe when you marry someone, there’s a lot more kissing and you want to have kids together and stuff like that...but well, the important part is that caring, right? Without that, what does the rest of that stuff matter?”

Bill’s face softened slightly.

“...I guess you’re right. And I guess...when I am looking for that person...I should find somebody who’ll care about my happiness just as much as I do theirs.”

Carewyn nodded with a smile. “Definitely.”

She took Bill’s hand.

“And maybe someday when your ship comes in,” she sang brightly, “she’ll understand what kind of guy you’ve been...”

Bill’s face flushed again, but this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment -- this time, it was accompanied by a bright, touched look in his brown eyes.

“And then I’ll win,” he finished, in a much less trained, gravelly singing voice than Carewyn’s.

Carewyn beamed. She walked on ahead, pulling lightly at Bill’s hand so as to coax him to walk next to her.

“And when she knows what she wants from her tiiiiime~...”

Bill gave a laugh, but followed Carewyn’s lead, recalling the words by heart.

“And when she wakes up and makes up her miiiiind~...”

Soon Carewyn and Bill were back toward the castle, swinging their linked hands idly back and forth as they sang the rest of the song together, getting louder and louder with each line.

“She'll see I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl! You know, I've seen her in her uptown world -- She's getting tired of her high-class toys And all her presents from her uptown boys.... She's got a choice! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!”

Before long, all the two thought of while singing that song was hanging out together and being silly, while not caring what anyone else thought. Not a single word of the song brought Emily Tyler back to Bill’s mind -- and in the years to come, Bill would continue to enjoy the song with no negative connotations whatsoever, instead only remembering when Carewyn and he sang it at the top of their lungs to make him feel better. And that moment did indeed signal a shift in the dynamic between Carewyn and Bill. For Carewyn, it made her feel like she was walking home with Jacob again -- like she had an older brother who she could look after, the way she used to for Jacob. And for Bill, it made him feel like he’d acquired a second younger sister -- one who emotionally supported him the same way he did his real siblings.

One thing was for sure, though -- it was this moment, among many others to come, that cemented Bill and Carewyn as the very best of friends.

x~x~x~x

Tagging @the-al-chemist and @oneirataxia-girl for expressing interest in this prompt! 🤗

Carewyn’s dress is based on the design on the left 💗

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #bill weasley #carewyn cromwell #emily tyler #charlie weasley #my art #my writing #bill's secret #BILL MY BOY #I love you so much <33 #I went out of my way to try to write in some logic to how emily behaves that has links to her gryffindor placement #namely her desire for glory and to be well-regarded #it also would explain why bill didn't pick up on how terrible she was at first #she looks down on people who are below her specifically #around equals or people she wants to impress she'd be nicer #since bill has watched her from afar he wouldn't pick up on that :(#but yeah I felt like carey-bear just HAD to reclaim that song so that it didn't have to be something bill associated with emily forever #and yeah now it's something special between them as bffs!!#and bill does eventually find his own 'uptown girl' to marry <33 #(either carewyn's 'slytherin sister' jules farrier or fleur delacour depending on the canon >D)

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hughjidiot · 3 years

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Under Your Scars, an Amphibia Fanfiction

(TW for panic attacks. Takes place post-canon with aged-up characters.)

Marcy has been together with Anne for one year now and wants to make their anniversary special, but memories of what happened in Amphibia all those years ago threaten to bring everything crashing down.

Thankfully for Marcy, Sasha is there to hold her together while she falls apart.

AO3 Link

---

The shower knob squeaked as it was turned to the right, cutting off the steady stream of warm water. Steam filled the tiny apartment bathroom as Marcy Wu stepped out of the shower, water dripping down her in rivets, eyes shut tight. Quick as a flash the nineteen-year-old STEM major whipped the fluffy green towel off the bar beside the sink, wrapping it tightly around her torso.

It was only when she was fully covered that Marcy dared open her eyes.

She wiped the condensation away from the mirror, brushing her wet hair away from her eyes. She popped open the medicine cabinet above the sink, removing her toothbrush and toothpaste before gently closing the door. As she cleaned her teeth, the mint of the toothpaste tingling against her tongue, Marcy ran though her to-do list in her head. A paradoxical mix of anticipation and apprehension roiled in her gut.

Today was hers and Anne’s anniversary.

Marcy still couldn’t believe it had been a full year since she and Anne Boonchuy had officially started dating. A full year since Anne had first taken Marcy’s hands in her own, blushing and stuttering, asking if Marcy wanted to have dinner together that weekend. Not with Sasha as they usually did; just the two of them. Marcy had been stunned into silence, a silence that Anne had initially taken for a rejection that had her stammering out an apology looking close to tears.

Marcy’s senses had returned to her just in time, and she’d practically screamed yes, of course she’d go out with Anne.

In hindsight it seemed natural that the two girls would end up together. They’d been friends since kindergarten, complimenting each other perfectly. Anne would be the one to look out for Marcy and keep her safe, while Marcy would be the one to help Anne with the schoolwork she always struggled with. Along with their mutual friend Sasha Waybright, they completed each other, made each other whole.

Granted there had been some… complications in their adolescence. Complications that were exacerbated by circumstances that most teenagers couldn’t imagine dealing with. But in the end the three had worked through everything, coming out with a stronger friendship, a genuine friendship. A friendship that had naturally segued into romance for Anne and Marcy, with Sasha fully supportive of her oldest friends getting together.

Now it was time to celebrate one year of their relationship.

The day had gotten off to a great start already, Marcy waking up to find that Anne had already gotten up and prepared a full breakfast of all their favorite foods. They laughed and joked as they ate, finding simple joy in each other’s presence. They talked about Anne’s work and Marcy’s schooling, and how much they were looking forward to the reservation they’d made at that new Italian restaurant for dinner tonight.

Marcy felt her face heat up as she finished brushing, spitting the foamy mixture into the sink. Their dinner date wasn’t until eight in the evening, it was a little after eleven now, and Anne would be back from working the lunch shift at her parent’s restaurant around two. Meaning they’d have almost the entire day all to themselves. And Marcy wanted it to be special.

After a year together, after a year of going no further than heavy make-out sessions, she’d decided it was finally time to take things with Anne to the next level.

Feeling that her hair was dry enough, Marcy retrieved the hair dryer from the cabinet. She closed the door again, and froze at the sight of her reflection.

Her towel had slipped ever-so-slightly, exposing a triangular patch of pale-pink skin just below her collarbone, extending to underneath the fabric.

Marcy felt her breath hitch as the memories came flooding back to her.

Memories of her arguing with her parents on that autumn day.

Running from her house in tears, screaming that they were ruining her life.

Finding the Calamity Box in the pawn shop.

Remembering the book from the library, thinking it had to be a coincidence, that there’s no way it would actually work.

Then, the fateful decision: what’s the harm in trying?

Marcy felt her hands start to tremble. The memories came faster.

Standing outside the pawn shop with Sasha while Anne stole the music box.

Seeing a blinding flash when Anne opened the box at the park.

Landing in a city straight out of one of her video games.

Meeting him. The “good king” who took in a confused and frightened visitor from another world. The man who housed, studied with her, gave her a crossbow as a gift and taught her how to shoot. An adult who actually listened to what she had to say, who encouraged her to embrace her own interests rather than force his ideals on her.

Being made the head of an entire military branch. Going on thrilling missions and daring adventures, just like her favorite fantasy novels.

Then, meeting Anne again after so many months apart.

Marcy’s eyes started to burn, welling up with tears. More memories, slamming into her like a physical force.

Feeling such hope and joy as she was reunited with her oldest friend.

Showing her the city. Introducing her to King Andrias.

Doing research on the music box so that the girls could finally get home. Just like Anne wanted.

Letting her go so she could spend just a little more time with her surrogate frog family.

Watching Anne dash through the streets, leaving Marcy alone.

Then, seven words from King Andrias that would again change the course of her life: “I have a proposition for you, Marcy… ”

Marcy’s legs trembled, and she dropped the hairdryer and gripped the counter to steady herself as she tried desperately to get her breathing under control. Not helping was that the motion had caused her towel to drop further, exposing even more of that damned scar. The memories wouldn’t stop.

Travelling across Amphibia with Anne and the Plantars on a quest to charge the stones of the Calamity Box.

Meeting Sasha again after so much time apart, who seemed to have truly grown and turned over a new leaf.

Lying to both of them about going home.

Returning to Newtopia with the fully-charged box in tow.

Watching in shock as Sasha and Grime stabbed them in the back and launched a full-blown toad rebellion.

Watching in horror as Anne exploded at Sasha, ending their friendship right then and there.

Thinking that it was fine, this was fine, they’d had their spats before, Marcy could fix this like she always did.

Working with Anne, the Plantars, Yunan and Olivia to free King Andrias and crush the rebellion.

Then, the moment everything came crashing down.

Keep it together, Marcy thought to herself in the bathroom, shutting her eyes tight. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as her mind was assaulted with sounds and images. Not today. Not today…

Listening in stunned shock to Andrias’s delusional ranting.

Watching the Calamity Box light up the castle, feeling the entire structure rise into the sky as a small army of robots seemed to show up out of nowhere.

Pleading with Andrias that this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t part of the plan.

Standing there helpless as Andrias coldly revealed the truth in front of everyone.

Desperately trying to explain things to Anne and Sasha. Sasha backing away in anger and disgust. Anne looking at Marcy with such hurt, such betrayal.

You did that to them, a voice whispered in the back of Marcy’s brain. You tore them from their homes, their lives, put them through hell. It was all you, Marcy.

Fighting Andrias’ robots alongside everyone.

Staring in horror as Andrias cruelly dropped Sprig to his death.

Diving out the window after them, whistling for Joe Sparrow to fly in and save them both. It was the least she could do. He was Anne’s best friend, after all.

Returning to the castle with Sprig in tow, watching in awe as Anne laid the hurt down on Andrias, using powers that none of the girls understood at the time.

Grabbing the music box, using it to open a portal home. Anne and the Plantars rushing through while Sasha and Grime held off Andrias.

And then.

Pain.

Pain unlike anything Marcy had ever felt.

Looking down to see the glowing tip of Andrias’s sword protruding from her chest.

Hearing the stone-cold voice of the man she thought she could trust: “Now look what you made me do.”

Pain.

Using her last breath to apologize as her body went numb.

Pain.

Hearing Anne’s anguished cry as the world around Marcy faded away.

Pain pain pain such horrible pain-

Marcy practically ripped the medicine cabinet open, grabbing her anti-panic attack medication. She untwisted the cap and, despite her shaking, managed to get a single pill out and popped it into her mouth. She slammed the cabinet door shut and turned on the faucet, collecting water in her cupped hands and taking a huge gulp.

Unfortunately, her rapid movements sent the towel tumbling to the floor, leaving that goddamned scar on full display.

An ugly, thick, jagged line of pale-pink, starting below her collarbone, crossing down over her heart and ending just below her right breast.

A permanent reminder of the biggest mistake of Marcy’s life. A mistake that had nearly gotten her killed. Almost got her friends killed. Could have killed them at several points, if things had gone just a little bit differently.

Aside from the doctors she’d seen when their adventure in Amphibia was over, she’d never shown anyone the full scar. Not her parents, not Sasha, not even Anne.

In her mind’s eye she saw Anne staring at her bare chest, recoiling in shock and horror from the sight of the scar. A reminder of the one who uprooted Anne from everything she knew on her thirteenth birthday and dropped her into a hostile new world that had almost killed her multiple times.

She heard Anne’s words from all those years ago echo in her ears: “How could you?! I’ve been missing my family, my life!”

Marcy tore out of the bathroom, eyes shut against the sting of her tears. She sprinted to the bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, not daring to open her eyes until she had pulled the comforter over her still-damp form and covered her scar. Her breathing was heavy and ragged, her vision was blurry, her heart slammed against her ribcage, and a sensation of pins and needles settled in her hands and feet.

Marcy curled herself tight into a ball on the bed she shared with Anne. Sweet, kind, wonderful Anne who was hard at work right now, who would walk through the front door in just a few hours expecting to spend a magical anniversary with her girlfriend.

That thought did little to calm Marcy down.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand. It wasn’t easy with her hands trembling the way they were, but she managed to pull up Sasha’s name and hit the call button. Marcy waited for what felt like an eternity as the phone rang until, mercifully, it was answered on the second ring.

“What’s up girlfriend?” Sasha Waybright asked casually.

“S-sasha?” Marcy choked out.

“Marcy?!” Sasha’s tone changed in a heartbeat. “What’s the matter? Where are you?”

“Apartment. Anxiety attack. It’s r-really bad this time…”

“Hang on, I’m on my way!”

Sasha hung up. Marcy let the phone slip from her hand and she curled up tighter, trying to focus on her breathing.

Several minutes later, Marcy heard the front door unlock and Sasha’s voice call out: “Marcy?!”

“In here,” Marcy managed to reply.

Sasha came rushing into the bedroom. The blond woman took one look at the scene on the bed and gasped, hand going to her mouth.

“S-sorry to bother you,” Marcy said with a forced smile, craning her neck to look. “I-I didn’t have anyone else to call…”

“Marcy it’s okay,” Sasha said right away. She crossed the room and laid down on the bed, wrapping her arms around Marcy and pulling her close. One hand went to Marcy’s wet black hair, stroking gently. “It’s okay, just breathe with me. Breathe, Marcy. In and out. In…”

Marcy took a shaky breath, holding it in.

“And out.”

She forced herself to exhale slowly, the tears still falling.

“In… and out…”

---

It took several minutes, but the combination of Sasha’s comforting presence and the medication managed to calm Marcy down. After making sure Marcy was okay, Sasha laid out a t-shirt and some sweatpants for her before heading out to the kitchen to fix her something to eat. It took every ounce of Marcy’s energy to pull herself out of bed, quickly putting the shirt on first to get that scar covered. She pulled on her pants and shuffled out of the bedroom, moving at a slow and steady pace.

“Hey Mar-Mar,” Sasha said gently. She was sitting on the living room couch, two bowls of mint chocolate-chip ice cream placed on the coffee table in front of her. “Hope you don’t mind but I raided your freezer.”

“It’s fine,” Marcy said with a small smile. She grabbed one of the bowls and shoveled a huge spoonful into her mouth. The pleasant taste of mint spread across her tongue as she crunched chocolate chunks between her teeth. “Sasha I’m so sorry for dragging you over here-”

“Uh-uh-uh!” Sasha said firmly. “I don’t wanna hear any of that junk. You know I’m always here for you and Anne, no matter what.” She paused to eat some of her own ice cream. “So… it was really bad this time, huh?”

Marcy shuddered as she thought back to her panic attack in the bathroom. “Yeah. I haven’t had an attack that bad in a long time.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, do you know what triggered it?”

An image of Anne recoiling at the sight of Marcy’s scar tried to force its way into Marcy’s brain, but she derailed that train of thought.

“Well… do you know what today is?” Marcy asked.

“Your’s and Anne’s anniversary,” Sasha answered instantly. She furrowed her brow. “What, did you guys have a fight or something?” Sasha’s eyes widened. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

“No no no!” Marcy said quickly, waving her hands. “No, everything’s fine between us. And it’s been going great so far: we had a nice breakfast this morning and have a reservation at the new Italian place tonight.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Marcy paused, a blush settling over her cheeks. “Well… Anne gets home from work in a few hours, and then we have a few hours before dinner. I wanted the two of us to have a… special time together. If you know what I mean.”

Sasha pursed her lips in thought, then her eyes widened and she smirked. “Oh I get you,” she said teasingly. “Finally gonna kick things up a notch, huh? Marcy you dog.”

Marcy gave a small smile and blushed deeper at Sasha’s playful ribbing.

“So what are you worried about? Do you need anything ‘special’ to spice things up? ‘Cause there’s a shop like three blocks from here, I can tag along if you’re nervous about going by your-”

“No, that’s not the issue,” Marcy said quickly before her face could burst into flames. She gave a heavy sigh. “I’m just worried about… this.”

She grabbed her shirt collar and pulled it down just enough to expose the top part of her scar.

Sasha furrowed her brow. “Your scar? What’s the big deal about that?” Her eyes widened and she winced. “Er not to say your scar isn't important, I mean! I know that it’s from a major time in our lives a-and I’m not trying to downplay the crazy shit you went through, I just-”

“It’s okay, I get what you mean,” Marcy said. She sighed heavily. “But that’s… kind of my problem.”

“Uh, I’m not following you.”

Marcy sighed heavily. “It’s just… when you get down to it, everything we went through in Amphibia was because of me. I was the one who found the Calamity Box. I was the one who knew exactly what it would do. I helped you pressure Anne into stealing it, all because I couldn’t face being alone.”

Marcy felt her eyes start to burn as the tears welled up again, and she quickly wiped them away. “I didn’t wanna be alone, and I ripped you guys away from your lives and families! I dropped you into a dangerous world, a place that could’ve gotten you guys killed!” The tears welled up again and Marcy’s voice hitched as she went on. “And then I lied to you both about going home! I-I just assumed you guys would want to keep going on adventures with me forever, I never even considered your feelings! I was so blinded by my desires that I didn’t even realize a power-hungry tyrant was playing me like a fiddle! And he… h-he...”

Sasha’s arms shot out, pulling Marcy into a tight hug. “It’s okay, Marcy,” she said softly. “Everything’s okay. Just breathe.”

Marcy took several deep, shuddering breaths. She could feel another attack welling up inside her, but the medication kept it in check. Sasha held her for a few more minutes until Marcy felt calm enough to continue.

“This scar is a permanent reminder of everything I put us through,” Marcy said when she pulled away. She subconsciously traced her hand across the scar over her shirt. “It’s something I’ll be living with for the rest of my life. Most of the time I can’t even look at it without triggering an attack. And I guess I’m just… afraid of Anne seeing it, okay? What if she sees it and remembers that everything she went through was my fault? What if…”

Marcy paused for a long while, looking down. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. “What if she realizes just how horrible I am?”

Sasha reached out to put a comforting hand on Marcy’s shoulder.

“Oh Mar-Mar…” she said gently, a soft smile gracing her features. “You’re such an idiot.”

Marcy looked up sharply. “Huh?”

“You really think Anne’s gonna leave you over something like that?” Sasha chuckled and shook her head. “For someone so smart, you can be pretty damn stupid sometimes. Anne is crazy about you Marcy. You should hear the way she goes on about you during our girls’ nights. There’s no way in hell she’d leave you over everything that happened all those years ago.”

“But I was the one who-”

“And that’s another thing! You’re putting way too much blame on yourself for that mess. Sure you might have found the box but I was the one who convinced Anne to swipe it. And you’re not the only one who made some big mistakes in Amphibia.” She chuckled. “I mean at least Andrias tricked you. I willingly tried to start a violent uprising to overthrow the government.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “And look what happened when we stopped you.”

Sasha shrugged. “Yeah, but hindsight is a bitch like that.” She gently grabbed Marcy’s chin to turn her head towards Sasha, looking Marcy in the eye as she continued.

“Look, I’m not trying to downplay your mistakes. Because you made some big ones, I’m not denying that. We all made mistakes, but we all owned up to them. We learned from them so we could become better people. And you’re forgetting the important thing of all: we forgave you. Anne and I both forgave you a long, long time ago. Okay?”

Marcy felt a pang in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words, not by a long shot. But it didn’t lessen the impact one bit. She could feel the storm clouds of anxiety that had been roiling inside her begin to dissipate. “... Really?”

Sasha smiled sweetly. “Really.”

She yelped as Marcy shot forward to wrap Sasha in a hug, but quickly returned the embrace.

“Thank you Sasha,” Marcy said, “I really needed this, you have no idea.”

“No problem, Marcy,” Sasha said, patting her friend on the back. “You gonna be okay?”

Marcy pulled back and nodded. “Yeah. I… I think I’ll be alright.”

“Good. Now before I take off, are you sure there’s nothing you need help with before Anne comes home?”

Marcy opened her mouth but paused, the gears turning in her brain. She slowly smiled as an idea began to take shape.

“Actually… I think there is. I’m gonna need some rose petals.”

---

The apartment was dark when Anne arrived after work.

This fact didn’t surprise her too much; Marcy had a habit of gaming with the lights off, much to Anne’s charaign. But when she fished the key out of her pocket and let herself in, she was surprised to see the living room TV dark and the couch Marcy-free.

“Honey, I’m home!” Anne called out her usual greeting as she stepped across the threshold, gently shutting the door behind her.

No response.

Anne frowned as she shrugged her coat off her shoulders. Was Marcy taking a nap or something?

She was about to call out again when she saw them: rose petals on the floor. They started just beyond the front door and led down the hall towards the bedroom. The door was open just a crack, soft light coming from inside.

“Well well well, what have we here?” Anne asked herself with a chuckle as she kicked off her shoes. “Marcy Wu, you charmer.”

Anne made her way down the hall, gently opening the bedroom door.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The lights in the bedroom were all off and the curtains had been drawn; the only illumination came from the candles burning on the nightstand. The trail of rose petals continued across the carpet to the bed itself.

Marcy Wu laid back on the bed, her upper body propped up on pillows with her arms spread out casually. The blanket covered her up to her chest, clinging to the contours of her body, the creamy skin of her bare shoulders tantalizing peeking out from where the blanket ended. Marcy smiled warmly at her girlfriend, giving Anne the sultriest gaze she could muster.

“Hey Anna-Bananna,” she said in a breathy voice. “How was work?”

Fire blossomed in Anne’s face as she opened and closed her mouth, which was suddenly very dry. “Uh… guh…”

Marcy felt her confidence ebb at Anne’s stammering and she chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, was this too much?”

“Oh no no, it’s more than fine!” Anne said quickly. “I mean I was thinking you’d have something waiting for me when I got home, but this…” Anne made a show of tugging at her shirt collar. “This is beyond anything I could’ve imagined.”

Marcy perked up, smiling shyly as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “So you like it then?”

Anne crossed the space between them in a fraction of a second, joining Marcy on the bed. She cupped Marcy’s chin and leaned in for a long, deep kiss. Marcy returned the kiss with gusto, reaching up with one hand to thread her fingers through Anne’s hair while the other held the blanket in place.

“I love it,” Anne said when she pulled away, fixing Marcy with a fiery gaze that had her trembling in anticipation. As much as Marcy wanted to start tearing Anne’s clothes off right then and there, she took a deep breath and held herself back.

She had to do this right.

“Anne,” Marcy said as she sat up, still holding the blanket up over her chest as she looked into her girlfriend’s eyes, “this last year has been the happiest of my entire life. When I’m with you, everything just feels right. You complete me in ways no one else ever has. You give me strength and confidence, inspire me to be a better person. I love that you’re the last thing I see before I go to sleep each night and the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning. I love you, Anne Boonchuy.”

Anne placed a hand over her mouth, eyes twinkling. “Marcy…”

Marcy took another deep breath. “I know we’ve gotten pretty… familiar with each other over these last several months. And if you’re ready to take things to the next level…”

She let the blanket fall. “Then so am I.”

Anne’s blush deepened as her eyes traveled downward. Marcy kept her face steady, but some dark corner of her brain was still expecting Anne to pull back at the sight of her scar, reminded that everything that happened in Amphibia - all of her hardships and brushes with death - was all because of Marcy.

But there was no revulsion, no anger. There was lust and desire in her gaze to be sure. But there was also passion and love. The same spark Marcy saw when she and Anne would get lost in each other’s eyes while eating dinner, or walking in the park, or just cuddling on the couch.

Anne looked back up at Marcy, then leaned in for a second kiss. Tender and gentle but with a hunger and passion bubbling just below the surface. Marcy melted into the kiss, allowing herself to be pushed back onto the pillows as Anne crawled further onto the bed, climbing on top of her girlfriend. Anne pulled away after several long seconds, both girls breathing heavily, staring at each other with smoldering eyes.

“I’ve been ready for a long, long time,” Anne said. “I love you Marcy Wu.”

Marcy felt her heart soar.

She wrapped her arms around Anne and pulled her close for yet another kiss. The third of many, many more.

#amphibia #marcanne #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #fanfic

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atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Sweet Sugar

2 | Oh this town it's so electric

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: swear words, underage drinking (not much tho, nothing descritive and nothing like “Skins” lmao), suggestive scenes in some chapters, not smut!! but minors be aware. Fluff/angst/drama/ Y/n and Tom being stupid teenagers with feelings.

words: 2.5 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, sorry for any mistake!

Summary: Y/n has always been Harrison’s and Tom’s best friend. Since childhood they’ve always been close, but what happens if after a break up with her first boyfriend, she starts to feel something more about Tom?

PART 2! If you want to read Part 1 click here

Don’t forget to check out the playlist by @petesrparker created for the series! here

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It was almost 7pm on Saturday and I was almost ready to go meet Tom before we went to the party. I had put on a stylish shirt along with a skirt (a little shorter than i usually wore) and a sandal with a medium heel. After finishing doing my outline, I take the bag with the gift and went down the stairs.

The day before I had found something in the mall, a chain with an amber stone as a pendant. The attendant of the store had told me it meant protection and calm, which I thought was perfect to give to Tom as a way to show that I was there to comfort him whenever he needed it.

As soon as I went downstairs my mother was already waiting for me to fill me with accessories (she always complained that I didn't "dress up" properly).

- You look beautiful! - She said putting a bracelet on my wrist and two rings on my fingers.

- Aw, thanks mom!- I said giving a kiss on her cheek. - I have to go, because I'm almost late, I don't know what time I'll be back, probably before midnight.

-Okay, If you need anything calls us and we'll go get you. - She said and I nodded waving to my father who was in the living room. - Give my birthday wishes to Thomas and a hi to Haz for me and take this pie to Nikki. - She handed me a bag with a pot as we walked down the stairs from the front door.

- Okay, bye mom! - I said and waved down the street.

After walking for less than 10 minutes I was in front of Tom's house, took a deep breath, went up the stairs to the entrance and knocked on the door. I heard some screams to open the door from the inside and a "messy hair" Harry wearing striped pajamas answered me.

- It's Y/n! - He yelled to the side. - Come in. - He said as he gave me space and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

- Are you ready to sleep? - I said pointing to his pajamas. - Actually it's time to children to be in bed, you're right. - and Harry stuck out his tongue.

- So funny. Since we're not old enough to go to the party with you guys, me, Sam and Paddy are going to play video games and watch movies, you know, boys night. - He said as if celebrating, putting a fist up.

- Got it. In fact, what I really wanted was to be with you guys watching movies, much better than a party. - I said as we arrived in the kitchen, where Nikki and Sam were preparing cookies.

- I doubt it, I can't wait to go out and have fun at night. Harry said and I shrugged.

- What can I do? I'm a old lady... - I laughed and greeted Nikki and Sam with a hug.

- I wish my children like to stay in home like you. -Nikki spoke as she took the cookie shape out of the oven.

- Well Nikki, I've already tried to get them on the right path, but they're too rebellious.- I said and Harry and Sam giggled. - My mother sent you apple pie. - I put the bag on the counter.

- Yay, your moms apple pie is delicious!- Sam said opening the bag and taking a fork to taste.

- Teenagers....I don't know what I do with these pests anymore.- Nikki said putting her hand on her hip and watching Harry and Sam fight to eat the pie.

- Did I hear pie?- Paddy came into the kitchen greeting me with our handshake, which I taught him since he was practically a baby, Paddy and I had our little bond, I was his defender when the older brothers made fun of him.

He stole Sam's fork and ran off as he and Harry ran after him screaming.

-Oh God…I don't deserve this.- Nikki laughed. - Honey, Tom is there in his room getting ready, if you want to go upstairs.

- Okay, I'll hurry him.- I said and she agreed, laughing. - By the way, you look amazing! I loved your outfit.

- Thank you Nikki! - I thanked going towards the stairs.

Once I got to the top I walked until I reached the end of the hallway where Tom's room was, knocking on the door.

- Tommy? Can I come in? - I asked and heard a "come in!" from the inside.

I opened the door and saw Tom in front of the mirror finishing his hair. He wore a basic white T-shirt and black jeans, along with a black all star with white laces. He looks beautiful, which made me miss a few heartbeats for a moment.

- Did you like it? - He asked turning to me and opening his arms looking at himself and then at me again.

- Perfect! I loved the all star- I said and he smiled.

- You not looking bad yourself either... New skirt? - He said looking me up and down making me feel my cheeks burning.

- It's old, but I've never used it, I left it for special dates.

- I felt honored now- he said and I laughed.

-Hey happy brithday! - I approached and hugged him feeling his delicious and intoxicating perfume. - Best wishes, I hope all your dreams come true. - I said still hugging him tight and closing my eyes feeling him kiss my cheek when we let go.

- Thank you mate, you and Haz are one of the best thinga in my life. - He said and I smiled seeing him smile back, and what a smile... Damn y/n! Stop thinking things that shouldn't be thought!!

-I have a present for you!-I said, delivering my bag in his hands.

- Yay!! - He got excited sitting on the bed to open it like a child on Christmas Day. -Wow!- he said taking the chain out of the box. - It's beautiful... Thank you so much darling, I love it! - and obviously I blushed even more with the pet name. Tom called all the women closest to him darling or love, which was normal, but whenever he said to me, for some reason, I felt a warm feeling in my heart...

- You're welcome Tommy, it's an amber stone to bring you protection and patience.

- Perfect, everything I need - he looked at me - I'll use it right now! It even matched my outifit- he said putting the chain around his neck and winking at me right after.

- I liked it, it looks amazing. - I said looking at him and he hugged me from the side.

- Hey, we have to go if we don't want to be late.- he said getting up and giving me his hand to get up too.

- Right. - I said, following him out of the room and down the stairs behind him.

- Mom? We're already going! - he yelled, taking the keys from the counter and Nicki appeared approaching.

- You two are rocking huh? Both look beautiful! My baby is already so grown... - she said squeezing one of Tom's cheeks making me laugh and he rolled his eyes.

- Mom...

- Okay, go ahead, and don't drink! Especially you young man - she said pointing at Tom with her intimidating finger. - And don't come back too late.

- Okay mom. I'm responsible.

- Yeah... I'm just more relieved, because the Y/n goes too, she's the only sane one of this "impossible trio." - and I made a face of "proud of myself", puffing out my chest.

-Ha-ha, yeah sure...- Tom replied and I hit his arm causing him to rub it pretending he was in pain.

- I'm the oldest and most responsible, Nikki is absolutely right. - I said and Nikki laughed.

- You said like you're very old, but it's only some months... - He start saying and I raised my hand ready to hit him again, making him shrink with fear. - Okay, okay... Now let's go, because we're already too late. - Tom said opening the door letting me through and we waved to Nikki.

We took an uber and arrived in 20 minutes in front of the party. It was a really nice house, Tom’s friend welcome us on the front door and lead us to the backward, into what appeared to be a small wood structure with a big window at the front, but when Tom and I walked in after passing the door, the place was a lot bigger than it looked. It had a lot tables around like a big saloon even with a dance floor and seemed to be very cozy. When we walked in you could hear an indie song playing in the background, which I really liked as it's one of my favorite styles. Passing through the door we already saw some familiar people seated, including Haz.

- Finally! The birthday boy arrived!- Tuwaine, one of the boys' friends, who eventually became mine too, stood up greeting Tom with a hug.

- Thanks mate.- Tom said returning the hug and greeting the rest of the people who were at the table and I went after him greeting them too.

- Good to see you here Y/n! I know you're not a big fan of parties.- Tuwaine said as I sat between him and Haz.

- Well, it’s what we do for friends, right? - I laugh looking at Tom who was talking to some friends from the school.

An hour passed and everyone was drinking and talking happily. Tom sat at the end of the long table a little away from where I was with Haz and Tuwaine, so the 3 of us were talking nonsense and joking together.

Until a group of 4 girls arrived together, one of them I could recognize as being Gracie, a girl from the school, I didn't know her very well, we were classmates, we did math together, but we never talked. And another face I knew well: Meghan. A girl who do theater with the boys and who was everyone's crush. Tom and Haz were always talking about her, but I had never talked to her for a long time, just the times I would meet the boys at the theater, we would say hello and goodbye and that was it. The only thing I knew was that Tom was in love with her since he was a child.

Obviously that made me a little jealous, which was ridiculous, because I didn't even know her very well and even though I felt something different for Tom for the past few months, it wasn't right for me to be jealous, he was my friend, that's all.

The girls approached the table and Tom got up to greet them.

-I'm glad you came!-I heard him say as he kissed Meghan's cheek and hugged the others. I could see Gracie looking in Haz's direction and look away quickly, which made me raise a curious eyebrow.

They sat down and I saw Meghan walking to the bar with Tom as they chatted excitedly. I looked away picking up my glass with a drink I didn't even know what it was anymore, taking a sip. I heard someone approaching and when I looked up I saw Gracie.

- Hi Haz! Good to see you. - She said and I saw Haz turn a little red.

- Good to see you too Gracie!- he said greeting her across the table.

- Do you guys know each other?- I asked looking from one to the other.

- Yes we did English together. - Haz said.

- You are Y/n aren't you? Do we do math together? - Gracie asked.

- Yes we do! Do you know Meghan too?

- Yes, she is a childhood friend of mine, as she said she was coming on Tom's birthday and didn't want to come alone me, Beverly and Paige came to accompany her.

- Got it, do you want to sit with us? - I said pointing to the chair in front of us.

- I wish, but the girls are already asking me to sit with them, we haven't seen each other for a while, you know, don't you want to go sit with us instead? - She said pointing to the other table where the other 3 girls were looking at her, calling her.

- It's a good idea. - Haz said and looked at me and Tuwaine who agreed, getting up.

So Gracie went in the front with Tuwaine behind her and me and Haz got a little further back, where I poked him.

- Why didn't you tell me you had a crush? - I asked like a whisper so that only he could hear me.

- It's not a crush... She's just a nice girl from my class, that's all. - he replied.

- Haz I know you.- I said and he rolled his eyes giggling.

We arrived at the table and stayed there talking and getting to know each other. The girls were really nice and cool, which I ended up getting along really well with them, especially Gracie, which was funny because we did a class together and we never even said hello to each other. In the meantime, Tom and Meghan had already returned from the bar with their drinks, where Meghan ended up finding a way to sit next to Tom at the other table, which I thought was a little weird, but I ignored it.

After a few minutes Tom approached our table.

- Hey guys, we’re going to the dance floor, do you guys want to?- he asked leaning between my chair and Haz.

Everyone ended up agreeing, getting up and following him to the dance floor, where Meghan and a few others at the other table were already dancing. The song Juicebox by The strokes starts playing, and everyone sang loudly. I was a little behind as I hated dancing, but I also joined in the singing, because Strokes was one of my favorite bands.

Soon after, the song Glockenspiel song by D.I.D started to play. We got even more excited and started jumping singing. I saw Haz approach Gracie, which made me smile, they looked cute together. So, I looked around and realized that I was in a corner alone, Tuwaine had already left for the middle of the floor super excited and the other girls were on the other side, talking to Marcos and Julian. I kept looking until I found Tom and Meghan, they were dancing very close and talking talking into each other's ears, laughing.

(Oh this town, it's so electric Since I got the feeling I can't shut down)

I lowered my eyes finding the ground very interesting for a moment, but I couldn't stand it and looked up again.

(Oh this town, it's so electric Since I got the feeling I can't shut down)

Which I regretted, because now they were kissing passionately.

(We are a mess, we are failures and we love it)

I felt my stomach starts to hurt, and my eyes fill with tears. Why did I feel this way? It was ridiculous and immature. Tom had already hooked up with other girls in front of me, why was it different now? Not understanding my feelings, the only thing I did was run away, I went outiside and went to the front of the house, leaving.

Maybe it was the drink? But I sat on a low wall and lowered my head to my knees and started to cry.

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#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland friends to lovers #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland series

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

How Do I Get Over You?

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: It’s so fucking sad guys let me just tell you that

Word count: 6.5K

Summary: Hey guys! So I was driving the other day and “Driver’s License” by Olivia Rodrigo came on and at first, I didn’t understand the hype but then I kept listening to it and this imagine popped in to my mind and now I’m sad. I’m almost done with part 3 of my fuckboy series so please stay tuned and thank you all for your patience. By the way, one in a million is a fucking BOP I’m so proud of my boy :(((((((( Mark Tuan deserves the universe. Okay happy reading (or should I say have fun crying)

I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“P stands for?”

“Park.”

“Good. R stands for—“

“Reverse.”

“Good. N stands for—“

“Babe. We’ve been over this about ten times in the last week. I know the controls already. I just want to drive.”

You had gotten your permit a little over two weeks ago and you were more than excited to finally get on the road. You’ve been wanting to drive since the time you were old enough to understand what driving was. Watching your parents turn the steering wheel, press on the gas, accelerate and park—it just seemed like so much fun.

All of your favorite characters in the television shows you enjoyed watching knew how to drive—or at least that’s what you assumed when you were still young. Once you hit your pre-teen years, you understood that they were just pretending to drive—that it was just “television magic” that gave the illusion of them driving a moving vehicle but that didn’t stop you from wanting to learn. Your boyfriend Mark had gotten his license when he was only sixteen years old.

Technically, it was considered an intermediate license which meant there were a lot of rules he had to follow. He wasn’t allowed to drive without someone over twenty one years old, there could only be three passengers in the car at a time and he had a curfew of 10 o’clock p.m. As much as you begged your parents to allow you to start studying for your permit back when you were sixteen, they wanted you to focus on finishing high school before taking on such a big responsibility that came with being a licensed driver.

That didn’t stop your boyfriend from taking you out against your parent’s will and teaching you everything he knew about driving. Mark was almost five years older than you. You first met the older boy when you were in the second grade and he was right about to move up to the seventh grade. He was your oldest brother’s best friend at the time; the two of them were like two peas in a pod.

Where one went, the other one followed closely behind. If one joined a sport, so did the other. They were like magnets—always needed to be together. It was like that up until their sophomore year in high school. Isn’t wasn’t as though they had bad blood between them. Sometimes friends just grow distant.

Mark joined the football team whereas your brother was more of a soccer kind of guy. Their schedules began to collide a lot and it was actually pretty sad. Everyone who knew of the two of them just assumed that they were going to be friends forever, but it was only natural for both Mark your brother to go their separate ways.

Deep down, you’ve always harbored feelings for Mark. It was inevitable; you saw him almost every single day for the last six years. Although he could be a pain in the ass sometimes; not allowing you to join him and your brother as they would play video games, taking the last cookie from the cookie jar, making fun of your drawings in order to get under your skin—there was a point where you ended up hating him because you felt as though he had it out for you. But as the years went by and the two of you grew older, he became more kind-hearted and gentle around you.

Whenever he’d come over, he’d ask you how school was going, what you were interested in, if you needed help on any of your assignments and he would even buy you some snacks before heading over to your house. It didn’t help that he became more and more handsome with age—driving you to the brink of insanity each and every time you’d have to see him. When he and your older brother nonverbally ended their friendship, you were crushed.

Sure, you felt really bad watching the two of them over the years growing such a bond that you assumed would last forever only to decide that they were too busy to spend any time together. But you felt even worse knowing that Mark was no longer going to be in your life. When you turned fourteen and moved on to high school, you decided to join the track team because your parents claimed that they wanted you to have a good high school experience.

The first week of practice was actually pretty fun—albeit a little bit strenuous and tiring, but it was enjoyable. Little did you know that following week, your coach would bring in two previous students to help assist him in bringing your team to success. If you thought Mark was extremely good looking already, you were in for quite the surprise seeing him for the first time in two years since the end of his friendship with your brother.

Time was always so good to him; in fact, he looked much better now than he did when he was sixteen. Braces, bad haircut and the pitchy voice no longer existed. His voice was much deeper now, he was grazing six feet, his cheekbones were more prominent and his features were seemingly more sharper. He was just as excited to see you as you were to see him.

Maybe you imagined it in your mind, but deep down, you couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of getting to spend time with Mark again. You didn’t think much about being around him again—he was an assistant coach. He was there solely to help you with training and you were sure he probably saw you as his childhood best friend’s silly younger sister. However, you were quick to pick up on how Mark seemed to give you most of his time and attention.

He’d give your teammates excuses as to why he couldn’t help them or why he needed to coach you the most. At first, you assumed he was just trying to be nice because the two of you somewhat had a past together, but as the days went by and your conversations went beyond track and field—you were confident that his friendliness had nothing to do with the fact that you were well acquainted with one another.

Your friendship with Mark only got more and more tight knit to the point where you found yourself hanging out with him outside of school. It didn’t take long for your friendship to develop in to something more. Something beautiful—something, indescribable.

Seeing Mark again and spending majority of your days with him only brought back your feelings tenfold—especially because you were no longer a ten year old little girl anymore crushing on her brother’s best friend from a distance. You were old enough to understand what love was—or what you assumed was love and it didn’t take a genius to know that what you felt for Mark was more than just a small crush.

Since he was so much older than you, you pushed back the thought of him reciprocating your same feelings. He was a college student. He was devastatingly handsome, intelligent, outgoing, athletic, hardworking and very kindhearted. There must have been so many girls at his campus who threw themselves at him—he was a literal Greek God.

Guys like Mark were never single and although you didn’t consider yourself close enough to know what his exact type was, so you were confused and shocked yet over the moon when he stole a quick kiss from your lips and confessed his feelings for you while the two of you were out eating ice cream. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with the age difference—Mark was practically an older brother to you and you trusted him with your entire being.

However, you decided to keep him a secret in the fear that some people wouldn’t be so accepting of your relationship. Dating Mark was a dream. For the last three years, he’s shown you nothing but so much love, affection, adoration and happiness. He taught you how to love yourself—he took his time learning every little thing about you.

Mark Tuan was the actual love of your life and you didn’t care if you were still too young to know what love was. You’ve known it since you were six years old that the older boy was the person you wanted to give your entire being to. You wanted Mark for as long as you could possibly have him for.

He was very good in showing you and telling you on a daily basis exactly how much you meant to him and how he’s never been so in love with someone the way he he was with you. It all felt too good to be true. To love him and be loved by him—God it was such a wonderful feeling.

Before Mark, your life was so colorless—so dull. Waking up in the morning felt like a chore. You had to motivation to really do anything besides your responsibilities and you just assumed that it came with being a teenager. But when he stumbled in to your life again, it’s like something awakened inside of you. You’ve never felt more alive.

He gave you a reason to roll out of bed. He gave you the motivation to want to go out and go on adventures. To enjoy life and it’s many wonders. He made you the happiest girl on earth and you were never going to take his presence and his position in your life for granted.

“I know silly girl, and you will. I just want to make sure you know everything by heart. As much as I seem like an easy instructor, and how big of a pushover I am whenever it comes to you, I want you to be safe baby. The road is a dangerous place—“

“Yeah I know, I mean—you’re on it all the time—“

“Hey! I am an amazing driver. I’m a natural y/n. I was born to drive. Some people just have it in them and others—well others take a while to learn.”

You had a feeling he was hinting towards you, so you leaned over to playfully shove him but his reflexes were much quicker than yours. He placed a sloppy kiss on your lips before pulling away; earning himself a soft groan.

“Okay, press on the brake and then lift the lever to put it in drive—good. Just like that. Now slowly, press on the gas. Good job baby. Now—you can speed up a little bit faster—I said a little bit—y/n!”

You failed to notice the speed bump until you and your boyfriend practically flew forward. Maybe driving wasn’t as fun as you assumed it would be and by the look of nervousness on his face, you could tell Mark was soon regretting that he offered to teach you in the first place.

A small pout soon rose on your face; sure this was the first time you were actually driving the car and you weren’t meant to be a professional on your first lesson. But you still felt a wave of disappointment since you couldn’t even do something so simple as to driving at a slow pace. How did your boyfriend make it seem like it was the easiest thing on earth to do?

Most of the time, he’d only use one hand to steer the wheel and he’d always have his knee propped up—making it seem effortless. He was right though; there were some things he was extremely talented with that you practically suck at and there were some activities such as ice skating and baking that Mark could never succeed no matter how hard he tried.

You acted out of instinct; hitting the steering wheel in anger and abruptly putting the car in park. One of the traits you could care less about was your stubbornness. If something didn’t go your way, you were quick to grow angry and give up on whatever it was entirely. That’s just the kind of person you were and sometimes, you’d try to work on improving yourself because you hating lashing out on anyone for no reason.

Especially your boyfriend. Luckily Mark was very understanding and patient whenever you grew frustrated with something and he was very good with calming you down and making you feel better. Which is why it came as no surprise to feel one of his hands graze against your thigh as the other gently wrapped around your neck. His thumb glided against your nape and he began to leave gentle kisses along your cheek. Only then did you realize you were tearing up and it made you feel so pathetic.

“Baby.”

You didn’t want to look at him; you were sure that if you were to see the look of remorse in his eyes that you would cry like a baby and that was the last thing either of you needed at the moment. You just wanted to give up and have him take you back home. It was pointless.

Now you understood why your parents were so against teaching you how to drive. You weren’t even 18 yet. What did you know about adulting and everything that came with being an adult? Why were you trying so hard to rush your age? Why did you want to mature so quickly?

There was so much you had yet to experience—driving could come later. However, you felt like in order to be on the same level as your boyfriend, you needed to know how to drive. It was always him coming to pick you up from school or your house and he was always the one dropping you off.

Although he’s never complained about it once, nor has he asked you to pay for his gas or anything like that, you couldn’t help but feel like such a burden and you wanted to do this so that you could take care of him as much as he was with you.

He’d come drive twenty minutes to your house in the middle of the night if you couldn’t fall asleep and you were well aware there was a big chance he was tired as hell. But he came to you every single time. Sure, he’d fall asleep not to long upon arrival—yet you’d feel so safe and warm just having him around and being wrapped in his embrace.

Sometimes, tension would rise at your house; whether your parents would argue with each other, or scold you for something so minuscule—all you wanted to do was run to your boyfriend and find solace in him. Since Mark was in college though, you knew he had a lot on his plate and you didn’t want to add on to his stress by worrying him about problems you were old enough to handle on your own. He had to get irritated with you every now and then—he was only human.

Having your girlfriend call you at the most randomest times to come pick her up or to console her as she cried had to be burdensome. Just like right now, he was probably annoyed that you only drove one foot and ended up slamming on the breaks in his car. You weren’t too sure how cars worked, but the way you were so rough with the controls probably wasn’t a good thing to do.

“Hey, why are you crying?”

You continued to sit there, forcing your attention on the dashboard and hoping that he would just drop it. However, you’ve known the older boy long enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop prying at you until you told him what was wrong. He allowed you to let it all out—you weren’t sobbing, but a few tears fell from your cheeks as you began to heaven silently.

Mark ran his fingers through your hair and tried to pull you towards him, but decided to let you be until you were ready to find comfort in him. If Mark was anything, it was considerate. You were confident that he was upset seeing you cry—especially because he must have known you were disappointed in yourself. Your boyfriend was very vocal about how much he despised hearing you degrade yourself and talk negative about your abilities because in his eyes, you were the most wonderful human being to walk this earth.

Nobody was perfect; but to him, you came really close. After a couple of moments, your cries slowly dissipated and to your confusion, he got out of the passenger seat. Right as the question of where he was going fell from your lips, he opened the driver’s door and motioned for you to get up. You were about to get out of the car completely in attempts to head to the passenger side; maybe you weren’t ready to physically learn to drive just yet.

Maybe he was going to teach you a little more from the driver’s manual and from his personal experience before allowing you back in the driver’s seat and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. He was already doing so much for you; allowing you to drive his car and putting not only his and your lives at risk, but the tip top shape of his truck and even his clean driving record since you weren’t under his insurance.

However, before you could do anything, you were being pulled on top of his lap as you felt his mouth smash up against yours. It took you a while to process the entire situation going on in front of you—kissing Mark had to be your favorite past time. His lips were your favorite drug and you could wholeheartedly confess that you were addicted.

You’d find any and every reason to kiss him. Even when you were in places that you should have refrained from any kind of skin ship with your boyfriend, you couldn’t go too long without feeling his soft lips meld perfectly with yours. Mark’s lips were one of your favorite features on him. Not only were the prettiest shade of pink, but they were plump and heart shaped.

When you finally came to your senses, you deepened the kiss and allowed him to shove his tongue inside of your mouth. You could feel him literally take your breath away the longer his mouth was on yours but you weren’t complaining. You would rather spend the rest of the day kissing him and even a little more than to attempt driving again. To your dismay, he hesitantly pulled away—making it obvious that he was fine continuing what the two of you were doing, but the urge to tell you what was on his mind was a little more overbearing.

“Mm—Mark—“

“If you were crying because you were upset with yourself over what just happened, then I need you to know that it’s okay baby. Please understand that it’s a learning process. I’m sorry if I seemed mad or if I raised my voice—I really didn’t mean to I just—I don’t know. I really don’t. Whether it’s because the thought of you in any kind of danger scares the shit out of me or because I don’t want you to grow up just yet—I don’t know what came over me and I’m sorry. But don’t you dare for a second beat yourself up about this okay? I’m so fucking sorry y/n. I’m trying to be a good teacher for you and I know you want to hurry up and get your license which I promise, I will make sure you do. Don’t be too hard on yourself okay? I know, I probably didn’t make things any easier with how I reacted a few minutes ago but driving can be terrifying. Every single time I’m on the road, it may not seem like it but I’m nervous out of my mind especially when you’re in the car with me. The thought of hurting you or being the reason why something bad happens to you drives me crazy. I’m so protective over you, now I can see why your parents are so against you driving. Ah, I’m bad at this.”

His words pulled tightly on your heartstrings like they never failed to do whenever he showed you or went in to explicit detail about how you meant the entire world to him. Mark wasn’t the kind of guy who act all big and intimidating—like he didn’t have feelings. Most of his friends tried to pretend as though they were manly and didn’t care about anyone but themselves. Your boyfriend on the other hand was the complete opposite. Mark was excited to show you off to each and every single person in his life or that the two of you would encounter. He didn’t care if it was considered “feminine” to have and show emotions.

He’d cry so easily at sad movies, or ads about sick children and animals in shelters. He’d cry if life could get a little too much for him to handle and if anything, it made him so much more of a man than those who tried so hard to conceal their inner feelings. This wasn’t the first time he confessed something so heartfelt to you, it’s happened on multiple occasions and it just really solidified the love he held for you.

Not once in your three years of dating did you ever question Mark’s feelings for you and you could only pray that you’ve shown him generously the exact same amount of infatuation that he’s never failed to give you. You repositioned your body so that you were face to face with him and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a delicate kiss on his jaw and giving him a soft smile.

God, what did you do to deserve someone so selfless, so caring, so gentle and kindhearted, someone who gave you the world on a silver platter and treated you as if you were the most perfect little flower? He gave you a pout, obviously upset with the idea of you being sad and you found yourself bringing your hands up to either side of his face and lifting his lips up in to a smile.

“Don’t be sorry babe. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I kept begging you to take me out to teach me and even if you were hesitant, which you have your reasons to, you never said no because you know how much this means to me and how eager I am to finally start driving. I—I know you’ll probably think I’m an idiot for thinking like this and you’ve never done anything or aid anything to make me feel like this, but I consider myself such a burden to you—don’t look at me like that. I’m so grateful you are the way you are and I’m truly so blessed to call you my boyfriend. I’m just saying that if it were anyone else, they’d probably grow frustrated having to drive so much for me and because of me. I’m sure you’ve spent at least $1000 on gas money from having to drop me off and pick me up. I know—you do it because you love me, because you want to see me and spend time with me and because you’d do anything for me—but I know I tend to reach out to you at all the inconvenient times. I want to be able to do something for you for once. You said so yourself, you can’t wait till I started driving so that I can drive up to your house whenever you want to see me. Thank you for trying, and thank you for being so patient with me. I want to make you proud Mark. I’m already so much younger than you. Your friends probably wonder why you’re stuck dating a child. I’m not old enough to drink or go out to bars and clubs. I can’t even buy nail polish remover or Benadryl on my own. Im selfish. My desire to hurry up and get on the road goes beyond being able to drive. I want to be a girlfriend you can proudly show off to everyone—“

“Do I not do that enough already? Did I say something or did something to make you feel like our age difference or the fact that you’re only seventeen and I’m twenty-three is a problem to me? Because it’s not babe. Sometimes I forget that you’re still so young because you act so mature and you have such a good head on your shoulders. If it wasn’t for your cute little baby face, I would assume you were around my age. I don’t give a shot about what anyone has to say or think about our relationship. The only people who’s opinions matter to me is yours and mine. No. You’re not a burden at all. Ever. So take that stupid thought out of your head. Yes, I can’t wait for you to finally get your license but it’s not for the reasons you think. If you ever want to run away from home, I don’t want you having to wait almost half an hour for me to come get you. Once you start working, I don’t want you to catch the bus or walk home if I or one of your family members are not able to pick you up. Your safety is my number one priority next to your happiness. We can still keep practicing if you want to baby, but don’t feel like you have to drive if you’re doing it for me. Do it for yourself. I love you more than you will ever be able to fathom okay? You’re it for me. You’re my person—my soulmate. The only person I see myself spending my entire life with. I hope you know that I’m going to be the one who teaches our kids how to drive one day. I don’t need them crashing or totaling the car because you failed to teach them right—hey! What? I’m just being honest baby you’re lucky you’re cute. But seriously though y/n, don’t you ever for even just a second doubt your place in my life and what you mean to me.”

This had to be the coldest winter yet in California. You were currently in your car and the heater was on high, but you were freezing. You didn’t know what led you to sneaking out of your house at two in the morning; you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep.

These last few months, you developed insomnia. No matter how hard you tried; taking sleeping pills, mentally counting sheep, staring at the ceiling in the hopes that your eyelids would close sooner or later, nothing seemed to work. After throwing on a jacket and some sweatpants, you tiptoed downstairs towards the living room and tried your very best to quietly close the door—not wanting to wake up your parents.

There was so much animosity between you and them that you blamed heavily on yourself. You only ever talked to them if they approached you first and even then, it was nothing more than a few sentences. As soon as you got in to your car that they got as a congratulations present for getting your license a little over two weeks ago, you started to drive with no destination in mind.

All you wanted to do was get as far away from reality as possible. You decided that you’d go wherever the road took you. Thankfully, since it was so early in the morning, there was hardly anyone on the road which meant you didn’t have to put too much effort in to driving. Your entire body felt numb—and it wasn’t because of the freezing weather.

You were so deep in to your thoughts, not paying any mind to your surroundings that you failed to notice where you ended up heading to. This road was so familiar; you’ve been down it more than a hundred times in the past few years. It was imprinted on both your mind and your heart.

Of course your subconscious would lead you here. It’s been a while since you’ve last took a trip down this street—you no longer had a reason to since that heartbreaking night a little over six months ago. That night had to be the worst in your entire eighteen years of your existence. All of a sudden, the painful memories of Mark leaving you alone in your backyard right after he ended your four year relationship as if it was the easiest thing to do came rushing back like a slap to the face.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore.

He asked if he could come over and you didn’t think much of it. He spent most of his time over at your house only because the two of you had more privacy since it was just you and your parents whereas all three of his siblings and their families all lived at home.

When he arrived, you were quick to pick up on the fact that he seemed tense; as if something was wrong. You didn’t think much of it, maybe he had a hard day at work or school. If only you knew then what you knew now, you would have approached the situation much more differently.

As you tried to reach out for his hand, he abruptly yanked it away and that’s when red flags began to go off in your head. Did you do something wrong? Why was he visibly angry? What could have happened that made him so—so indignant? It’s as if something had possessed him; you’ve never seen him this distressed before in your many years of knowing him and it worried you.

So many negative thoughts began piling up and your head began to hurt. He walked over to the swing set your parents set up for you and your siblings and took a seat. You were about to ask him why he was acting so agitated when he beat you to it. It’s been six months, but you can still physically feel the pain in your chest to this day. His words replayed every single day as if they were taunting you; they were a constant reminder that he was no longer in your life.

That he was no longer your person—the love of your life. Everything he said to you, all the promises for the future was a lie.

I’m breaking up with you.

Your mind drew a blank; you couldn’t process the thought of no longer having him as your boyfriend. You remember asking why—you wanted to beg him, to tell him that you were willing to change whatever it was about yourself that he fell out of love with. You would have done anything to get him to stay. Everything hurt and you just wanted to collapse. It’s as if time stopped.

He refused to look at you—his vision was set to the ground, kicking at the dirt. There were so many questions that you wanted to ask him, so many things you wanted to say but nothing came out other than why.

When did he fall out of love with you? When did he realize you were no longer the person he saw himself spending forever with? Where did it all go wrong? Everything was just fine the day before. The two of you were cuddling up on his bed, watching some movies on Netflix.

He dropped you back to your house earlier that morning, kissed you passionately and told you that he loved you. What happened in the few hours that he was away at school that made him decide to do the unthinkable and break up with you? It was in that moment where all your insecurities about being too young, too innocent and inexperienced—too immature and not enough for him in so many aspects.

Your worst nightmares came true; he finally came to the realization that he could get a woman his age; someone much more successful, so much prettier, funnier, kinder—he was in his mid-twenties and you were just a teenager in high school. You were holding him back from so much. It was finally catching up to him. He was a grown man; taking care of his younger girlfriend shouldn’t even have to be his responsibility.

I’m no longer happy in this relationship anymore.

Once those words fell from his lips, you sank to your knees and began to cry. You knew it was pathetic, but with the very small amount of strength you had left, you crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his legs.

Please. Please don’t leave.

You could try to beg him as much as you possibly could—you could cry and plead for him to change his mind. This man opened your eyes to so much. He made you so happy. He taught you how to love yourself so that you could love him to the best of your ability.

Mark Tuan was the rightful owner of your heart. He was your best friend before he was your life partner. How were you supposed to live without him? When you pulled away to take a look at him, he was void of all facial expressions. Why was he taking this so well; he was breaking up with you, the person he claimed he couldn’t live without.

He seemed fine—okay even. It was as if these last four years the two of you spent together—the many laughs, kisses, stolen glances, late night drives, all nighters making promises for the future, they no longer meant anything to him. Where was the Mark who adored you and loved you with his entire physical being? The Mark who drove over to your house at three in the morning just because he missed you.

The same Mark who stayed on the phone with your mom for almost two hours learning how to make you your favorite dessert to surprise you for your anniversary? The same Mark that would put on and wear face masks with you—dance to the most eccentric songs.

Where was the Mark who claimed that you were the one who set the universe in to the sky and who was this monster that practically ripped your heart from out of your chest and stepped on it repeatedly? You didn’t know who this stranger was standing in front of you.

It’s for the best.

The tears were hot on your cheeks; images of the first time you went over to his house as his girlfriend and not his best friend’s little sister. He brought you outside to the sidewalk and kissed you sweetly—bringing some of your hair behind your ear and complimenting you on how beautiful you looked. It felt like years ago and now that he wasn’t in your life anymore, it was hard to believe that even happened.

All your memories with Mark felt like a fever dream. Did your relationship ever even happen? Was Mark really ever in your life? Was he ever really yours? You wished you pried at him more—you just needed closure.

These days, you were so bitter, so depressed and unhappy. When you got your license, you honestly couldn’t even care less. A part of you didn’t even want to take the test. It would only remind you of Mark and what was no longer. You had no motivation to continue to learn how to drive at all. Your whole reason to get your license no longer existed.

Stupid, stupid girl. Why did you give yourself completely to someone else? Why did you trust someone with your heart? Your fragile, delicate heart. But it was Mark. You wouldn’t have expected him to do something like that. You haven’t heard from him since he left you not too long after telling you that he was done. You cut him off completely—deleted his number and blocked him on all of your social media.

A part of you, no matter how much you tried to push the thought of it at the back of your mind—you believed that there was a chance he just so happened to find someone else in college. Someone who could provide for him in ways that you couldn’t. Mark could have claimed that he loved you and that there was nobody else for him, but only he knew what was best for him and sometimes the person we live isn’t the person we need. You sat outside of his house for what felt like hours.

You couldn’t leave. It wasn’t as if you expected anything to happen. He wasn’t going to come out running to you with open arms, telling you that he made a mistake and that he misses you so much. No. That wasn’t going to happen. Your sobs echoed throughout the car—surely he was moved on already. For all you knew, he probably didn’t even live there anymore. The thought of not meaning as much to him as he did with you plagued you every single day. How could he be so unphased? Did you really mean that little or even nothing to him?

After everything you’ve been through together, how was he not hurting? How did the break up not affect him at all? In attempts to take your mind off of him, you turned on the radio—but ultimately ended up regretting that you did so.

Your song—your song with Mark—began to blast through the speakers. It was already at the chorus, but that was the part Mark claimed reminded him of your relationship. Life was never on your side, what did you ever do to deserve so much misery? Why was your life slowly falling apart at the seams? It was so unfair.

After allowing yourself some time to stop crying completely, you shut off the radio and drove away—not being able to stay much longer. Before you actually drove off though, you began to type in a phone number, one you knew by heart. You knew it was wrong, but you didn’t even care. Whether or not you got a response, it didn’t matter. He needed to know what the breakup was doing to you.

You: Hey. Not that you care, but I finally got my driver’s license. I just thought I’d let you know. 2:34 A.M.

You: Oh by the way 2:35 A.M.

You: I still fucking love you. 2:45 A.M.

Read at 2:46 A.M.

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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the-ghost-king · 4 years

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Me 0.1 seconds after reading your post about Will being Mothman simp: omg solangelo west virginia interstate dates 🖤 💛

Hey, it’s me again, the napping Nico person. Idk if you’re planning on writing 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 a story but if you did so, I’d love to read it, just wanted to tell you that. Hope you have a great day :)

@napping-nico I hope you have a great day as well! ;)

My apologies for the wait, as always I’ll reblog with the link to the Ao3 version!

Nico and Will go camping, something about tents and stars, Nico talks about military school and how camping was their idea of fun, in the morning they go along the river front and visit the mothman statue and maybe go on the river boat... Theme is it should be written like Ari + Dante staying in the desert overnight in the truck

Nature was something Nico loved, something he respected.

Growing up as a child hunting excursions had been a commonality in his home, they didn’t really need to go hunting; if they wanted fresh game there would have been a hundred men at their door asking for the chance to shoot for the di Angelo’s.

His Nonno had always liked it, to Nonno hunting had never been about hunting and it had never been about the camping that came with the trips either. Hunting, as Nico had known it as a child, had always been about politics; the excursions a place, a way, and an excuse to make deals.

In Military academies, camping trips were their idea of a good fun time.

A couple hundred boys and girls hiking out into the middle of Nowhere Forest loaded up with camping gear and taught how to cook food over open flame, and how to assemble tents in just a minute or two. The humdrum of set up, sleep, and take down with interjections and complaints sporadic throughout.

Nico had never minded camping, he found it some sort of calm. He liked the quiet, divine sort of life that nature provided. Nico had stood in front of gods and never felt power quite like that of a large old forest.

(Gods were bright and burning in their divinity, the air around them crackled and your throat was always tight and dry... Forests weren’t like that).

There was something about sleeping on the ground among all the living things, some sort of serene quality to it. He’d lay there among the sounds of his grandfathers disgruntled tossing and turning, and the annoyed complaints of other boys longing for their real beds, and Nico would breathe in the cold air of the natural world and feel something akin to home.

His chest would expand and he’d feel some kind of emotion in his sternum, like the plants and branches themselves were growing forth from his lungs with each chilling breath in, and they were expanding in the depths of his lungs and heart in a silent agreement of mutual affection and love.

To say the least Nico had always slept his absolute best outside.

Will on the other hand was a country boy at heart, he’d grown up in the middle of I Live 500+ Miles From Civilization Texas and backyards became camp grounds every spring and summer.

For Nico camping had always been treated like a fun little activity and Nico had taken it upon himself to find the divinity in each excursion. As for Will, camping was just something you did sometimes. He didn’t have some complex connection to the act of setting up a tent and sleeping inside of it, the closest Will came to anything intensely memorable about camping was bonfires.. But his family was large and they all lived near one another, bonfires were a nightly thing not necessarily a camping thing within his family.

To say the least, when Will asked him if he’d like to go camping in the middle of Fuck-All West Virginia Nico was absolutely in agreement. Sure he was a little confused as to why exactly they had to go all the way to West Virginia when they already lived in the middle of nowhere Texas, but he was sure there was a decent reason, as a demigod you learned to go with the flow sometimes.

What Nico hadn’t expected was that they would be heading to a quaint little West Virginian campground because his fiancé was a slut for Mothman.

Nico looked over to Will as he climbed out of the drivers seat of the truck, “Cyrtids aren’t going to fuck you if you manage to find them.”

Will looks at him from outside the car, “I’d be just as happy to let them kill me slowly.”

“That’s my job!” Nico glares at him for a second and sees Will smiling at him happily.

“Well then, you’ll have to protect me won’t you, darlin’?”

“Hmph,” Nico climbed out of the passenger seat and walked around to the bed of the truck to help Will unload the truck and set up camp for later that evening.

They pulled out all their equipment so they could set up their trunk tent; listen, sleeping on the ground in a tent was one thing, sleeping in the open air of the truck bed was another, but figuring out you could combine both of them? Nico had been in heaven.

They spend the time they work bickering, back and forth with light quips about the things each other had packed and how they packed them. They both had self-satisfied smirks on their faces the whole time, and they unapologetically threw pillows at one another while they were supposed to be readying their bed.

Some older lady had walked by at some point and with a gasp of shock she’d looked at both of them sadly, “What are your names? I want to pray for you.”

Nico, ever the expert with old people and children looked to her kindly, “Forgive me, why are you interested in praying for us?”

The woman goes on a long spiel about how young relationships are hard work, she starts talking about how from the sound of all their fighting they sure needed a lot of work if they were ever going to love each other properly. She tells them about how she wants to pray for them so that they won’t fight anymore and they’ll be happy.

When she finishes Nico is trying his hardest not to laugh so Will handles her, “Thank you ma’am, but I assure you we’re just happy to entertain the public.”

The lady has the most offended look on her face when Will tells her that, she picks up her woven bag from the ground and storms off to the sound of Nico’s poorly contained laughter.

They finish setting up the inside of their tent and locking their food and valuables up in the truck all while still cracking jokes and making quips, “I just want to pray for you and your relationship” Nico says with a mock praying gesture towards Will.

The blonde laughs back at him, “at least she didn’t assume we were brothers.”

Will locks the truck to the sound of his own quiet laugh Nico’s annoyed groan that borderlines on disgust.

"You'll pay for that comment!"

"Promise?"

They end up on the Riverwalk around dinner time, they took a break from normal camping adventures like public bathrooms and trying to start a fire so they could instead go look at a statue of Will's oldest crytid-crush.

Somehow the thing was taller than 6"2 Will, almost doubling him in height with its polished glory. It had dark red ruby eyes on either side of its face, and the coloration of the creature had been handled by carving and removing parts of it until it resembled some sort of 6 packed moth.

Nico didn't really see the appeal, but Will found sharp teeth "simp worthy" so Nico supposed if he was happy that was enough.

He seemed in awe of the beast, staring up at it in wonder and awe- maybe a bit aroused too... This was Will after all, the dude was obsessed with that one demon character from the Blue Butler show? Black Butler?

Maybe Austin was right, maybe Will really did have a type.

Will gets bored after a while, and fifty or so pictures later, they decide to head back to the truck, Will blabbering the whole walk back about star gazing and maybe seeing the real Mothman fly by overhead while they do so.

They head back to the truck where there's food to be cooked over the fire, and they eat in their little bed-of-the-trunk-tent that amazes Nico everytime he sees it. The modern world has some crazy inventions sometimes, Nico spent a solid week on their living room floor obsessed with Will's Xbox and how it worked.

The tent was a light orange color with cream accents on it, inside it was gray, and they'd laid a spread of multicolored blankets and pillows out to sleep on. The top part of it opened with a little screened window piece, and up above them there were stars in the sky.

Nico crawled in to lay on his back so he could look out their little unzipped window, and he could hear Will doing something outside before he climbed in behind Nico.

"Alright?"

"Hmph."

"Good."

They lay in silence for a few minutes, both of them just lost in the sight of the stars and thoughts of the person breathing next to them. Will turns over first, just to look at Nico, so Nico gives him a taste of his own medicine and does the same.

Nico decides then to take a pillow and hit Will's shoulder with it, "Sap."

He's not angry, it's not an accusation, it's just a fact; Will's a romantic and especially so for Nico.

"Maybe so," He's smiling at Nico, "I got you something if you'd like to see it?"

"Oh?" Nico fakes coy in response and earns an exasperated look from Will.

"Here."

He hands him something small, places the little trinket in Nico's hands. Nico opens his hands to see little earrings of a dark moth with red eyes, they're silver on the backs and Mothman is painted on the front of them. This version is much cuter than the statue version.

"Thank you," Nico places a kiss to Will's lips.

"I know you don't really like Mothman as much as me," there's a slight pause where they both chuckle, "but I don't know, I thought maybe you would like them because they would remind you of this? I don't know, I sorry, it's just-"

Nico pets a hand through Will's hair, "I love you, and I love them, don't apologize for buying me things."

Will gets a little stressed sometimes to say the least, he had managed to get off his anxiety meds back when they were still at camp, but he sometimes still found himself in spirals. Nico didn't entirely understand anxiety, but he did know what it felt like to feel constantly inadequate, and he knew what depression felt like, and he'd like to think he can help a little.

It took both of them some time together to realize that they couldn't love each other's problems away. Even though they both had been told it didn't work like that, they were hopeful and in love and thought that maybe they could create something different. Eventually they both did come to realize that they just had to hold the other persons hand, and sometimes one of them stepped up when the other couldn't keep up the pace, but it was better that way.

You can't love someone through anything, love isn't a cure, but you can hold their hand through it and remind them that you love them.

Nico pulls Will closer, lets him lay his head on his shoulder, and they stare up into the night sky together. Nico whispers into his ear his own thanks for the gift, and let's his words change into sweet nothings. Talking about how much he loved Will, and when they head back down South how his Mom would be home from her latest tour, and he listens closely when Will tells him about some Mothman documentary that he watched.

And Nico falls asleep some point shortly after Will, he can fill his lovers heartbeat if he reaches out for him, he can feel his life force strong and present. Nico can feel the life ebbing out of the field that surrounds them, he can feel the life that makes the trees grow.

Nico falls asleep, warm, comfortable, and basking in the life around him.

Everything will be just fine.

#nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #will solace #solangelo #My work #i think this turned out okay #I didn't properly communicate everything I wanted to #And I feel the point got lost somewhere but idk #hopefully you like it!!#ill upload to ao3 later today #anyhow! Ask to be tagged in my writing uploads!#oh that bit about them 'arguing' and the lady wanting to pray for them #Thats from a YouTube couple I watch #I thought it was a funny scenario but I don't think I executed it properly #Im bad at writing humor 😅😅

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lethal-k · 4 years

Text

Mi Corazón (JHS)

Hey all! Amanda here! I think I’m in love with this couple. I usually try not to define my character’s race, ethnicity, or nationality, but I really wanted to base this imagine loosely on my family’s old block parties. Plus, the lack of Hispanic representation within American literature is crazy, but it’s getting better as each day goes by! I just wanted to contribute to that! If you’re interested in me making imagines based on other cultures or anything, feel free to request it, just know that it may not be as rooted as this one, simply because this is my own heritage and I will have to do a lot of research on other cultures before diving in. Anyway, I also wanted an excuse to write an imagine where one of the members has to dance to Latin music because Latin music is so romantic. Hobi just seemed to fit the theme I was going for. Anyway, if you like this imagine please heart it, reblog it, and follow me! I love y’all, stay safe, and borahae <3

Genre: established relationship! au, fluff

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: swearing, google-translated Spanish, pining and simping, mentions of cartels and gangs, small mentions of immigration, literally one of the most endearing couples I have ever written.

Summary: Y/n takes Hobi to meet her family at one of their famous Miami block parties.

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“What if they don’t accept me..” Hobi mutters while you guys search for a parking spot on the street.

You glance at him, “What do you mean? What is there to not like about you?” You flash him a smile before returning your attention to the street, “This is ridiculous, I’m literally their child, I should get VIP parking for God’s sake.” you mutter while shaking your head.

Hoseok chuckles at you, “There’s one,” He points out a spot and you quickly start parking in between the two cars. He sort of deflates in his passenger seat while looking at the street lined with cars and the house that bustled with life. “What if they don’t accept me because I’m Korean? What if they think I’m not good enough for you because I can’t speak Spanish or dance well like you? What if they think my career is too much and that I won’t be able to take care of you?” He expresses his worries out loud.

You put the car in park before turning to face him in the seat. Leaning towards him, you grab his chin in your hand and squish his cheeks together. “Don’t worry, mi amor. My family moved into the U.S. from Mexico so they know what it feels like to not fully know a language while surrounded by English-speakers. They won’t judge you.”

“Bu-” he tried to cut in.

“Shh,” you shush him and put your finger on his lips, “I taught you different latin dance styles last week and you caught on super quickly. You’re making an effort to learn my language and they already know I can damn well take care of my own self but if they mention anything negative about your career then I will step in and tell them off. Okay? Stop worrying, they will love you.” He sighed and nodded, looking a little nervous. “Good, now let us go.” You give him a quick peck before getting out of the car.

Your parents had moved into the U.S. from the dangerous city of Culiacán, Sinaloa in Mexico in 1992. Six years before you were born. They had moved due to the dangers of the infamous Sinaloa cartel. They decided, instead, to settle down in Miami, Florida. Where they had you, your little brother, and your baby brother and sister. The youngest two are twins. You are their oldest child, now at age 22. Your little brother, Pedro, is now 19 and the twins, Miguel and Rosalína, are both 15. All of you grew up in the house that you and your boyfriend of 11 months are walking up to now.

Two years ago, you had moved to Seoul, Korea in hopes of reaching your dream to become a fashion designer. You chose South Korea because, well c’mon, Korean fashion is to die for. It also was not as cliche as New York, California, or Paris. A year and some months into living in Seoul, you met Hobi. Of course you knew who he was, but you treated him as any individual, which he took a liking to. Fast forward another month or two and you two started dating and now you are here, walking on your childhood street, up to your childhood home, about to meet your family and childhood friends. Yeah, you could say today was pretty special.

You two were walking up when all of a sudden a young woman who seemed to be the same age popped up in front of you both. “Y/n!!” She squealed.

Your smile grew wide and you pulled the girl into a bone-crushing hug, “Ay, Carlita! Cómo has estado?”

“Bien, bien.” She smiled back before glancing at your boyfriend, “Who is this?”

You looked next to you and saw Hobi standing there, hands behind his back, and a shy smile on his face. You held out your hand towards him and he quickly took it, “Carlita, this is my boyfriend, Hoseok. Hobi, this is my childhood best friend, Carlita.”

She smiled warmly before holding out her hand which he shook, “Hello there! It’s nice to finally meet the mysterious boyfriend.”

Hobi chuckled and nodded at her, “It’s nice to meet you too.” His accent came out a bit and you smiled at his shy behavior.

“Would you happen to know where everyone else is?” You asked, sort of wanting to get introductions done and over with so you can party with your boyfriend and family.

She shrugged, “I know that Pedro is playing video games with the boys in his room, I have no idea where everyone else is at.”

You sighed and shook your head while smirking, “That boy and his video games.”

Carlita giggled at you before walking off, “Well welcome back home and it was nice to meet you, Hoseok! Maybe we can catch up more later but right now I have to stop Tío Edgardo from skateboarding. Old man claims that he is trying to regain his youth.” she rolls her eyes.

You laughed at her and nodded.

“She seems nice.” Hobi commented in Korean.

You smiled at him before grabbing his hand, “C’mon, let's go meet my little brother.”

The two of you walked throughout your home before coming to a door in the hallway. You open it without knocking and low and behold, there is Pedro and a couple of friends playing Mario Kart. From the looks of it, your brother is losing terribly.

“Pedroo.” You sing out his name in hopes of getting his attention.

“What is it?” He asks, not looking up from the screen. You scoff at his reaction.

“What? No, ‘hello sister’, ‘how are you sister’, ‘who is that man with you sister’” You tease.

He shrugs, “Dude. Mario Kart. Priorities.”

Your jaw drops and Hobi starts laughing hysterically. “This is what I get after saving your ass from mom and dad for years. The complete and utter disrespect.” You say, mocking offense with your hand on your heart.

He smirks at your comment but his eyes remain glued to the screen, “Yeah yeah whatever. I’ll talk to you later outside, close the door on your way out.”

You shake your head, “I’ll hold you to that!” You yell as you close the door.

Hobi looks at you with a raised eyebrow and the same smirk that Pedro wore, “Have you two always been like that?”

You nodded and giggled, “Yeah, pretty much.” He shook his head at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, walking behind you back into the main area of the house.

The two of you passed a couple of neighbors, all of them who greeted both of you with open arms and hands full of alcohol. You lead him through the kitchen, not glancing at your surroundings. You are about to walk to the backyard before you hear a familiar voice.

“Ah, mi hija, si sales por esa puerta sin saludar, no dudaré en conseguir mi chancleta.” (Ah, my daughter, if you walk out that door without saying hello, I won’t hesitate to get my flip flop.) You freeze at the sound of your mother’s voice and turn around to find her staring at you with a pointed look. You smile sheepishly and shrug your shoulders before waving at her.

“Hi, mama.” The look she was giving you faded off her face and transformed into a smile. You walked over to her and gave her a hug. She pulled you in, wrapping her arms around you tighter. You sighed in content, realizing how much you missed her and your home. The picture of her in the kitchen, glaring at you, and threatening you with her flip flop put you on a nostalgia trip. Although you wouldn’t trade your life right now for the world - a beautiful penthouse apartment with your boyfriend in the middle of South Korea’s capital - you did find yourself missing the smell of huevos con carne and chorizo that drifted throughout your home. You found yourself missing the melodic voice of Romeo Santos on Sunday mornings that indicated it was time to wake up and start cleaning. You found yourself missing the company of your siblings and the embrace of your parents. But as said before, you are currently living a wonderful life in Seoul, with your career progressing fast and the man of your dreams right beside you.

“I’ve missed you, you barely call anymore.” She scolds you while simultaneously pulling you into her even more.

You nuzzle your face into her shoulder, “I’ve missed you too, mama. I promise to try calling more often.”

You pulled away to smile at her, only to find her checking out your boyfriend from head to toe. “Ay, hija. ¿Quién es ese buen pedazo de culo que trajiste?” (Who is that fine piece of ass you brought with you?)

Your eyes widened and you lightly smacked her arm, “Mama!”

She giggled and looked at you, “What?” she complained.

You sighed and shook your head. You glanced over to Hobi to find him smiling warmly at you and your mom, despite not knowing what you two are saying.

“Mama, this is Hoseok. My boyfriend.” You said, putting emphasis on the word boyfriend.

He awkwardly smiled at her and waved, “Hello ma’am.”

She smiled warmly at him while walking over, pulling him into a hug. You laughed at Hobi’s shocked face and little ‘oof’ at the strength of her pull.

“Call me mama, ma’am makes me feel old.” Hobi smiled at her acceptance and hugged her back, looking to you for reassurance. You give him a quick thumbs up before she let him go and turned to you. “While the two of you are here, mind helping me carry out these dishes to the table outside?”

You scoffed, “I’ve been here for a matter of 10 minutes and you are already putting me to work like I’m 12 again.”

She smiled and shook her head, “It’s cause you always act like you’re 12, hija, now get let's make use of your boyfriend and his muscles and carry these enchiladas to the table.”

You laughed at her antics before translating to Hobi what his task was and putting the tray of food in his hands. You grabbed a plate of tortas and she grabbed the empanadas before you started heading out.

“Thank you, hija, Hobi. I will see you both later, I have to go yell at Pedro for hiding away in his room.” She walks off, shaking your head and you smile at her retreating figure.

“Your whole family seems nice so far.” He said, taking you into his arms and holding you. You giggled and pulled back slightly.

“They’ll be your family soon too, hopefully.” You whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

He smiled and nodded, “And I cannot wait for the day that they do.”

You blushed at his confession before your eye catches two heads of hair that were identical by the pool. You smiled at Hobi and took his hand in yours, leading him towards the edge of the pool.

“Rosa! Miguel!” You exclaim and stand behind them. Rosalína looks up at you from behind her glasses and smiles.

“Hey sis!” You hug her from behind and she holds your arm. You pull away and look at Miguel expectantly, only to find that his eyes are somewhere else. You follow his gaze to a very familiar girl and smirk.

Rosa smacks him on the back of the head and he flinches, glaring at her. She nods her head towards you and Hobi and he looks at you two before smiling sheepishly. “Oh hey, Y/n..” You kept smirking at him and his face flushed red under your gaze.

“Still being a simp, I see.” You tease. He looks away, face turning 10 shades redder.

“Shut up.” He trailed off.

Hobi tapped your waist, pulling your attention to him. He tilted his head in confusion. “What joke am I missing?” He asked.

Rosa snorted. She turned her head towards Hobi, catching his attention. “You see that girl over there, with the blonde hair?” She said and pointed. He nodded slowly, following the direction and looking at the girl. “Her name is Lucy. Miguel here has been pining after her for like- 5 years. Since we were 10! Can you believe that? I say he should just grow some balls and tell her that he likes her.”

You laughed at her choice of words while Hobi smirked. Miguel shoved her side in embarrassment.

“I’m not pining,” he glared at her before glancing at you, “Nor am I simping.” He trailed off while looking at Lucy before glancing at Hobi, “She is just super pretty and totally out of my league.”

You smirked and looked at him, “Nah man, you’re totally simping.”

“Literally, shut up, Y/n.” He said, crossing his arms and pouting.

Hoseok smirked and laughed, “No, you should totally do it, kid. You only live once and the worst is that she’ll say no. But if she says yes…” He trailed off, leaving the rest to Miguel’s imagination.

Rosa high-fived Hobi, “Thank you! I’ve only been saying that for years! I’m Rosalína by the way, but you can call me Rosa. This idiot over here is Miguel.” She introduced herself.

Hoseok smiled at her, “I’m Hobi, Y/n’s boyfriend.”

“You’re in that one band, right? BTS?” she asked, tilting her head.

He nodded, “Yep, that’s me.”

“Nice,” She nodded, “I like your song Dope.”

He smiled, “Thank you.”

You watched the interaction with a big smile on your face. It seemed that your boyfriend was becoming more comfortable. And that couldn’t make you any happier.

You shook your head at your thoughts before looking towards your sister, “Hey Rosa, where is dad, anyway? I want to introduce him to Hobi.”

She rolled her eyes, “Where do you think?” She snorted and nodded her head towards the make-shift dance floor. A few people moved out of the way to reveal your father, Modelo in hand, dancing merengue to Suavemente.

Your eyes widened and you let out a laugh of embarrassment, “Oh. My. God.”

She shook her head before looking towards Hobi who wore amusement on his face. “That would be our father. He’s been like that for the past hour, I think that’s his 6th beer.”

You giggled at the ridiculous man that you called your father before grabbing Hobi’s wrist. “C’mon, let me introduce you to the ol’ man.”

Hobi’s face lost all color and looked uneasy. Rosa laughed as you two walked off, waving bye. You could tell your boyfriend was nervous, after all this was your dad. Your father. Keeper of your heart. The man who raised you. If he didn’t approve of Hobi then it would be devastating to the both of you.

“Wait-” he stopped you from going on, “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m not good enough for his daughter? Hold on, does my shirt look okay? What about my hair?” He panicked.

You decided to shut him up with a kiss straight on the lips. He froze for a second before relaxing into it and wrapping his arms around your waist. You giggled at him, “He will love you, Hobi. You look perfect.”

He nodded, still a little dazed from the kiss. You left him on the side of the dance floor and dodged dancing neighbors until you met your father in the middle.

“Suavemente! BESAME!” He shouted as you tapped his shoulder. You giggled as he turned around and looked at you in pure glee. “Mi princesa! How are you, mi corázon? Dance with me!” He exclaimed and grabbed your hands, pulling you into the dance with him.

You laughed and threw your head back. “I’m good, papa! I want to introduce you to someone!”

He nodded at you and grinned wolfishly, “Then lead the way, Princess.” He followed you off the dance floor and to Hobi.

“Papa, this is my boyfriend, Hoseok.” Hobi visibly gulped.

“Hello, sir.” He said, putting on a charming smile and holding out his hand.

Your father’s eyes narrowed, looking Hobi up and down, a poker face on. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Hoseok faltered for a second, “Yes, sir…” He said, using his other hand to scratch the back of his neck out of nerves.

Your dad suddenly smiled and took his hand, pulling him into a hug, “Well welcome to the family then! It’s nice to meet you!”

Hobi visibly relaxed into the hug, smiling at you with a big grin. All you could do is smile back, happy that he made a good impression on your dad.

Your father pulled back and squinted at Hobi, “You hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you.” He said, gruffly.

Hobi’s eyes widened, “N-never, sir.” He stuttered.

Your dad broke out into another smile again, “Good!” He clapped him on the back, “Here, let’s go have some drinks!” He led you two to the bar before leaving to go dance some more.

It was later that night, after more less-stressful introductions, multiple plates of food, and a few drinks that you and Hobi were sitting together at a table, watching the party and enjoying each other’s company. You were staring at your parents, who were in the middle of the dance floor. Corazón sin cara was playing as your parents swayed to the music, your father’s arms wrapped around your mother’s waist and her head leaning against his chest. You smiled softly at them with a look of fondness in your eyes.

“They seem to really love each other.” Hobi said, looking from you to your parents.

“They always have,” You said softly, laying your head on your arms and looking at them, “They’ve been through a lot together, a lot of trials and tribulations. When I was a little girl, I thought they were the purest definition and example of true love. They’ve always had each other, and I used to yearn for that as a teenager.” You explain.

Hobi smiles and puts his arm around you, “Well, my love, now you can think of us when you think of love. I want to give you everything, the world, and I want to have your back just like your dad has your mom’s.” He says, pushing your hair behind your ear.

You turn to him and smile, pulling him into a slow and passionate kiss.

“I love you so much.” You mumble against his lips.

He smiles against you, “I love you too, jagi.”

It’s when Obsesíon by Aventura comes on the speaker that you pull away with a gasp and wide eyes.

“What is it?” Hobi frowns, confused by your sudden behavior.

You giggle, “This is my song!” You get up and find Carlita before pulling her to the dance floor. Hobi smiles at you, and how your eyes shined with excitement. He watches you from afar, noting how natural you look among the people you grew up around. Although he may not know anyone and sticks out like a sore thumb, you are the complete opposite, blending in as if you had never moved away to begin with. He thinks that you have never looked so beautiful, than you do right now, at ease and having fun with your friends and family. He remembers how excited you were for him to meet all of them, going as far as to teach him some Spanish and give him some Latin dance lessons. You were so excited for this trip, and now that you both are here, Hobi doesn’t ever want to leave. Because you look so happy here, and all he wants is your happiness.

“You love her.” Hobi looked to his right to find your father, sitting down next to him with two beers in his hand. He said it more as a statement than a question.

Hobi glanced back at you, “Yes, sir. I do, very much.” He sighed out, watching the way your eyes lit up and your smile grew as you sang along with the song. He watched how you moved with ease to the melody with your best friend and he could only admire you and think of how lucky he is, to call you his.

“I could tell, you’re looking at her as if she’s your world right now.” Your dad smiled gently at Hoseok.

Hobi blushed a little and looked down before looking back up at him. “She is my world, sir. She’s helped me through a lot, and she supports my career and always is there if I need her. I only hope that I’m the same for her.”

Your dad gently laid his hand on Hobi’s shoulder, smiling at him. “You are. The look that’s on her face right now,” He nodded at you on the dance floor, laughing with Carlita, “I haven’t seen that look in a very long time. She was going through a lot when she left, and now I can see that she’s happy again. You make her happy, Hoseok. That’s all I could ever ask of you.”

Hoseok smiled at him, “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.” He looked back at you, smiling at you when you looked at him and winked. He blew a kiss to you before leaning back in the chair. “I’m not going to lie, I was nervous when she said that I would be meeting you all.”

Your dad chuckles at that, “Yeah, I could understand that,” he sighs, “I have always been the first man in her heart. I’m used to protecting her, to providing for her, to loving her. But now I’m not the sole man in her heart anymore, you are there too.” He says. Hobi looks at your father to find him staring back at him intensely. He looked him dead in the eye, “I believe you are a good man, Hoseok, and I fully give you my approval and welcome you into our family.”

Hobi’s face breaks into a wide grin, “I’ll cherish her for the rest of my lifetime, sir.”

The song changed to something more upbeat, and you were suddenly calling out to him, beckoning him over to dance.

“I have no doubt that you will, now go get your girl.” Your father clapped his back as Hobi stood up and made his way over to you.

You took his hand in yours and started moving along to Como la Flor.

“Baby, remember how I taught you cumbia? Well this is an iconic cumbia song!” You smiled. Hoseok squeezed your hand and started moving along with you, getting the movement and rhythm pretty quickly. He laughed at your tipsy state. But that didn’t matter, what mattered is that you were having fun, and that you were happy. And despite the alcohol effects, you still managed to dance like a professional. You giggled when Hobi spun you, and it was the most beautiful sound on this earth to him. The two of you were in your own world, dancing together and laughing with each other. You were so caught up in each other that you almost didn’t notice how the song changed into a slow one. But when you did, Hobi pulled you closer and you nuzzled into his chest as you danced bachata with him. He took extra lessons in this dance style, without you knowing, just because he knew it’s your favorite.

“I love this song so much.” you mumbled, slurring your words a bit.

“What is it?” He asks, whispering in your ear.

“Imitadora by Romeo Santos aka king of bachata.” You mumbled back.

He smiled at your cuteness, leaning down to peck your forehead. You two kept moving to the music, and he spun you around. “What is it about?” he asked when he pulled you back in.

“It’s about how his lover changed and turned cold, no longer giving him the same love that she once did.” You stated, smiling up at him.

He frowned, “Well that’s..romantically depressing.” He said.

You snorted, “Romantically depressing?”

“Yeah,” He smirked down at you, “it’s a romantic song, but it’s also super depressing.”

You shook your head at his ridiculousness and pulled him into a kiss.

“At least the melody is pretty.” You said after pulling back.

He pulled you closer to him, “Indeed it is, jagi. Indeed it is.”

As cliche as it sounds, the world faded around you two, as you both got lost in the dance and each other. You two held each other as if the world was ending. Your souls intertwined and the two of you vibed together. The moment itself was as intimate as it could be, and it would forever remain one of your favorite memories of you two.

Later that night, after the party had ended and everyone had either gone home or gone to sleep, the two of you laid in your bed. Surrounded by darkness, you stared at each other, whispering about how well today went and how much fun you had.

“I think they like me.” He whispers to you, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh they definitely do,” you giggled.

“What do you mean?” he raised his eyebrow.

“My mom thinks you’re a ‘fine piece of ass’ as she calls it.” You snort.

Hobi let out a surprise laugh, his cheeks turning the slightest bit of pink. You moved closer to him, cuddling up against his chest.

“I would have to agree with her though.” You whisper.

“Oh yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Mhmm,” you mumble, falling deeper into your sleep, “You looked so sexy tonight, dancing to Latin music.”

He smirked down at you, kissing the top of your head and closing his eyes.

“Yeah?,” he mumbled back, falling deeper into his own sleep, “I might have to do it more often, then.”

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cxmetery-gates · 4 years

Text

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER TWO: FOR THE FIRST TIME

SUMMARY: Lynn meets the attractive English teacher, Mr. Tom Hiddleston. WORD COUNT: 3.1k NOTE: it’s 3:00 am but I don’t have a sleep schedule. Enjoy! WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

INSIDE IS HAVOC.

For some idiotic reason, most students somehow forget what classes they signed up for three months ago or lost their schedules (I still wonder how that happens) and thus, the front office is a mess of students asking for theirs, the lines bleeding out into the hall. Given this, getting around to head to the commons will be a mission in and of itself. I'm not hating on all of them. As a freshman I was in the same place, my shaky hands and nervously stuttering voice mirroring the kids that smell brand new. Hopefully, to avoid this debacle again, they'll write the classes down. I guarantee the already exhausted looking receptionists would agree.

I almost want to tell the small, thin girl who wrings her hands 'good luck' but I guarantee she'd faint by the time I open my mouth. Instead, Ellie and I keep walking past the crowd. Poor souls.

It takes a minute or so to reach the commons, the booming echoes of chatting teenagers on their first day back is a sound like no other. The voices create a paved path any newcomer could easily follow. It dawns on me now that this will be the last time I'll hear this sound. I solemnly smile.

"I'm telling you, Dunmer is the better race."

"Only an idiot would spew such ignorant bullshit! Everyone knows Khajiit are the superior race!"

"Says the guy who could pass as a furry."

My eyebrows raise once the familiar voices are heard. Of course, they sit alone and look as normal as ever. My heart dips into my stomach when one of the two glances up and bashfully raises a hand to wave. In his awkward state, his hand barely moves.

Ellie is the first to speak. "What are you guys fighting about now?"

The boy with the long black hair speaks first. "Dumbass over here thinks Dark Elves are the best characters in Skyrim." Gabriel Ahoka is one of the oldest friends I have and if there's anything I've learned from him, it's that he's right the majority of the time. Oh, and he has beautiful hair.

"Because I'm right!" I take a seat next to the self-proclaimed judge. His name is River Adams, and I think I've been in love with him since he told me I reminded him of Hermione Granger back in the fourth grade. I smile in his direction then tuck some hair behind my ear. A nervous twitch that doesn't get past Ellie's ever watchful eyes. I refuse to acknowledge her small smirk. Instead, we both join in on the two dorks' conversation.

Ellie rolls her big brown eyes at them. "I don't see what the fuss is about. You guys take your games too seriously."

Both River and Gabriel audibly gasp at her comment.

"Fine," Gabriel huffs looking in my direction. "What about you, Lynn-ykinz?"

I don't visibly react to his nickname. It's something I've been called for years now. Though I'd like to agree with River, it's something I can't do. "Dunmers—"

"Ha!"

"— are for pussies."

"Ha!" This laugh comes from the boy sitting across from me. Beside me, River makes a small "oh" and lowers his raised fists, his hooray coming to a short and final end. I chuckle at his reaction as I pass Gabriel a solid high five.

"What are your guys' schedules?" River asks a tiny bit of gloom and annoyance coating his words.

Fortunately, most of us are in similar classes and only have to be here for a little over half the day. Due to all of us sticking to the scheduling plan, we all were able to get almost all our required course and electives done. Instead of having seven classes in one day, we all have five. By the time lunch rolls around, we're free the rest of the afternoon, meaning much longer DND matches with the nerds and more gossip and jam times with the only other female in our group.

"So meet up at the library for lunch?" I confirm once more as the morning bell rings, signally to all the student and staff that the first day is about to begin. The three people around me reply in agreement, and we head out. For the first hour of the day as well as the last, we're in different places. I'm not sure where the others are going, but I begin my journey to the library, one of my all-time favorite places.

I walk through the doors and slide over the counter, careful not to be seen but not careful enough. I plop in my seat at the front desk as someone walks up behind me.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you to go through the gate. It's literally five feet away, Lynn!" I send a humored smile to the woman walking behind me, a rather large stack of books in her arms.

I stand up and begin taking ones off the top. "Five feet of unnecessary effort, in my opinion."

"And playing parkour in the library is?" Mrs. Gibbons says, deadpanning.

"To each their own."

She sighs but then laughs. "How was your summer, kid?"

"Pretty decent." I now have half the stack in my arms, and I follow behind her. "My mom and I went to Arizona for a few days and then Seattle for a week. We didn't have much time, but we drove through somewhere in Canada on the way back just because."

Mrs. Gibbons sets the books down on a cart where there are a couple of rows on the bottom already filled. Taking her lead, I lower my stack to the opposite side and begin placing them side by side. I presume these are outdated and to be sold or given away. "What's in Arizona and Seattle?"

A smile hits my face immediately. "There's a college in Flagstaff with a great writing program. I went on a day trip around the campus. And Seattle is just someplace we wanted to visit."

"That's so good to hear, hon! Are you considering?"

I lean back against the counter right behind me as my mentor continues to shelve books. "It's a little far."

Turning to face me, Mrs. Gibbons send me a confused stare. "I thought you wanted to get away from this god-forsaken state?"

She's right. All I've wanted since my father left was to get out of Missouri (or Misery, if anyone's asking). My mom and I left Maine a long time ago go escape unimaginable horrors, but I wasn't expecting those nightmares to follow me here. The move was negligent in getting us away from memories a selfish prick poisoned and to start new somewhere far away, where no one knows me as the girl with a deadbeat dad. In this small town, everyone knows everything. I'd like to escape, to be a complete stranger to everyone.

But Arizona is a couple of thousand miles away from the place I grew up in, my home. I feel incredibly guilty about considering a college so far away from the woman who has taken care of me on her own since I entered elementary school, who has taught me that voicing my opinion and being honest is valued more than timidity and who told me that no man should ever keep a thumb on me. The other influencers in my life are also staying around here. Ellie has been accepted in a very pretentious private school for the Fine Arts a couple of cities over while River and Gabe are thinking about community college before making the jump into university. While solitude and adventures are what I crave, everyone who keeps my sanity in control is here.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "I do, but... I'm just not sure what I really want. Like, I would kill to get out of here, but what if everywhere is worse?"

"Trust me; there's nowhere worse than southwest Missouri, hon."

Again, she has a point.

I hum in response. There a brief moment of silence as we shelve old, dusty books. "So how was your summer?"

Mrs. Gibbons smile kindly, fawning over memories I doubt. "Richie took two weeks off, and we went Fiji. It was so beautiful. The water is clear, the people are wonderful, and the food– oh my God, the food." I secretly have a small thing for Richard Gibbons, or, as his wife calls him, Richie. This "thing" isn't a crush or infatuation by any means, but when he walks into the library on random occasions, he has a natural gift to swoon anyone he encounters. I've unfortunately fallen victim to his charisma a few times. He's an image of the wealthy 1930's businessman with modern values and beliefs weaved in his fine suits. Mr. Gibbons might be my mother's age, or possibly older, but I have to say, Mrs. Gibbons is quite the lucky woman.

I chuckle at her. "I'm sometimes surprised you haven't filed for early retirement."

"Richie makes quite the cash, but how and I supposed to entertain myself when he's gone ten hours a day and then for weeks on end?" Mrs. Gibbons pauses and looks around her library, then back to me. The growing crows feet wrinkle into a smile. "And besides, I can't leave my favorite kids behind, now can I?"

"I guess you can't," I reply.

Ten minutes later, I'm back at my desk. Well, technically mine, Mrs. Gibbons, and the other kid who helps out during school hours. I've never met them, so I'm not sure who exactly they are. Anyway, the "desk" is a long bar that has a foot-high wall that stretches all the way down to the ends, creating a divider between my computer and a student or faculty member. The top of this divider is flat, forming a plane in which books or arms can be set on. Most of the time, books scatter the top, but since it's the first day, the library is not only spotlessly clean but deadly empty.

That is until someone catches my attention. Sitting at the far side of the desk, I'm able to see who is coming a mile before he steps through the open library doors. This time was no different.

With long, lean legs and a towering height walks in none other than Mr. Tom Hiddleston.

Easily being the hottest teacher of all time, I feel a blush beginning to creep up my cheeks just at the mere sight of him. Apart from his 6'2 figure, he sports tame yet still curly reddish-brown hair, divine enough for the gods, if he isn't one already. Mr. Hiddleston's cheekbones and jawline remind me of razors, which I would feel honored to be cut by. However, his eyes are a color I can't pick out. Because I've never been in close proximity, my guess, from my distance, is green, or maybe blue. The ambiguity makes him all the more interesting. I wonder if he has some long-distance vibe because as soon as I look up to see him, Mrs. Gibbons is right out front— and missing her cardigan. I raise my brows at her from the swivel chair, but her eyes are focused down and away from me. Elbowing her slightly, I nod once, doing a run over of her exposed arms and a little cleavage. Jokingly, she swats my arms and blushes scarlet. I begin to laugh, somehow holding most in when Mr. Hiddleston walks in.

"Hello, Ruby," he smiles softly. As if he wasn't attractive enough, the man has a damn British accent. It's almost as if he's trying to stick out among the hicks. "It's good to see you. How was your summer, darling?"

If her fingers weren't wrapped around the edge of the desk, I guarantee she would have fallen over. Honestly, I would have done the same. "Absolutely marvelous! Fiji is a beautiful place. I imagine you would like it there."

I make the snarky note that she left her husband out of the conversation. Thinking about it, I try to glance over at her left hand to check if anything is missing.

Zoning out the best I could, I file through the library's emails and begin writing down books teachers are requesting. Like usual, the freshmen English teachers ask for The Great Gatsby, and the sophomore teachers need 1984. Due to being taught-in-class books, I scoot back in my chair to make a beeline to the back room and take the note with me, the sticky top staying attached to my fingertips.

"Oh, Lynn?" I hear Mrs. Gibbons call out.

I just entered the back room, so I comically poked my head out. "You called?"

I seem to humor both parties, a smile etched on their face. "Could you get the copies of Of Mice and Men?" My vision glances over to the teacher behind the desk for a short moment. His tall frame leans on the counter, arms crossed on the platform, apparently indicating familiarity and comfort in the room. I catch his stare. I realize now his eyes are in fact blue.

Nodding, I duck back into the room, setting my sticky note to the side. During the time I have to gather the fifteen or so books, I allow my reddening cheeks to cool off by taking long breaths. "Don't be weird, Lynn," I whisper to myself, extending my arms out towards the collection of novels. "He's just a hot teacher. Calm yourself."

Finishing the stack, I wrap my arms around the tower, huffing as I do. I carefully whisk myself towards the open door, making a mental note to go back to my list.

Mrs. Gibbons and Mr. Hiddleston chat among themselves not too far from where I left. Now sitting in her swivel chair, typing away feverishly on her computer, and keeping a conversation going, the librarian doesn't notice my return, though the man across does. He nods in my direction. The simplest gesture is somehow insanely attractive. Mrs. Gibbons looks over her shoulder, sending me a smirk. "Oh, there you are! Thought I lost you."

I fake a small laugh. "I'm surprised I didn't; it's quite the mess back there," I tease, waddling over to the counter. "Where would you like 'em, boss?" I'm not sure who I would refer to, glancing once at Mr. Hiddleston, to Mrs. Gibbons, then back to the stack in my arms.

"Would you mind escorting me to my classroom? I tend to be clumsy at times." With a warm smile, Mr. Hiddleston glances down to Mrs. Gibbons, awaiting her approval.

At that moment, I'm not sure if I would love or hate to go. On the one hand, I get to spend time with Mr. Hiddleston, every horny teenager's dream. On the other, I'm alone with Mr. Hiddleston, someone I've never had a conversation with let alone a 'hello' until minutes ago. Knowing my luck, I will somehow embarrass myself in front of him. It wouldn't be the end of the world since I don't have any of his classes nor do I have classes near his, but God I would feel like a fool for the rest of my life.

But, hey, he's something pretty to look at.

"Yeah, I don't mind. Is that okay, Mrs. Gibbons? I promise I won't bail on you," I say.

The librarian nods her head, fixing her glasses. "Of course, go right ahead! There isn't much to do now anyway. Just make sure you're back before the bell rings."

"Don't worry, Ruby. I won't keep her long," Mr. Hiddleston reassures.

I wouldn't be opposed if you did, I think to myself. The comment makes me blush, even going to my ears. Some reasons how I could be kept late quickly flash by and I find myself wishing I had not taken Mr. Hiddleston's offer. With my skin still burning, I make my way around the front desk as he follows me on the other side. The gate is shut, and due to my arms being preoccupied, I realized I might have to swing it using my hip, nothing too abnormal. I helped out Mrs. Gibbons last year and would do the same thing when my arms were full. However, Mr. Hiddleston was not accustomed to my way of opening the gate. Just as I go to butt it, Mr. Hiddleston reaches out. In an awkward exchange, Mr. Hiddleston's hand, which was aiming to wrap around the gate, collides on my hip instead.

It's nothing terribly exciting but enough to get a gasp and a jealous exchange from Ellie, and damn right I'll take that.

He pauses barely a second before quickly retracting his arm to his side. A blush of the same shade of scarlet cover our cheeks, an awkward laugh bubbling out.

"I'm sorry," I shyly push out.

Shaking his head, now making sure his hand is on the gate, Mr. Hiddleston bashfully looks down and opens up the exit for me. "Don't be, love. It was my fault."

"If you want to be the culprit, be my guest," I reply sassily. I don't want to see if my comment amused him or caused a cringe, so I don't look up. Instead, I look around for something to make our trip easier. "Did you want me to get a cart instead of carrying them up? It's up to you."

Shrugging, Mr. Hiddleston begins taking books from the stack, leaving me with less than half. "I don't mind walking if you don't mind. I missed my morning jog, so I'm trying to compromise the best I can."

I nod and kindly smile, even though my insides and my weak muscles are upset I took on the mission. "Walking it is then. Lead the way!"

Mr. Hiddleston turns on his heel, passing a smile to Mrs. Gibbons. "Thank you for letting me steal your little helper."

"Just return her the way she's leaving," Mrs. Gibbons retorts.

"We'll see," he replies, sending me a smirk and a wink. If the man wanted to turn my knees into jelly, he already succeeded from the first introduction. Now he's just teasing my flustered heart. "Just this way, love," Mr. Hiddleston tells me. I'm too afraid to speak, so I nod, smile, and follow beside him up the staircase.

#obsessive teachings #dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

13 notes · View notes

zamoimagines · 4 years

Text

Wrong Number

Word Count: 2,219

Pairings: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Chapters: 1, 2

Summary: You’d meant to send a selfie to someone else. Instead, you sent it to your old crush, Billie, whom had been friends with your parents for years. You were mortified and ready to face the embarrassment. To your surprise, Billie sent a picture back.

A/N: Hey ya’ll! thank you for being patient, I know you guys have been waiting for this one. I had fun writing this chapter. Hope ya’ll like it!

The wind whistled from outside as you paced back and forth in your living room. After the phone call, you had sent Billie your address. She only replied with a wink emoji.

You were steel reeling from the call. This wasn’t a joke or a dream whatsoever. You were about to go on a date with your oldest crush! Your high school self would have screeched at an opportunity like this. Though, you presently were freaking the fuck out.

You continued to walk toward your couch, then back to the front door. Back and forth. You couldn’t stop yourself. This was all so much, not in a bad way, but you couldn’t deny that you were extremely nervous to see her. You hadn’t heard from her in literal years… yet she still remembered you. Obviously she thought about you. This realization nearly made you faint.

Just as she had asked, you were wearing the exact shirt from the photo. It wasn’t one you wore often because it made you feel vulnerable. That alone was making you anxious. To cover up a little, you threw on a nice cardigan and left it open. It made the outfit feel so much cozier, which in return, made you feel much more comfortable. You had made sure to touch up your makeup and fixed your hair. Now it was just a waiting game.

As you continued to pace, the intrusive thoughts in your mind only got louder. What if this was all a mistake? What if she changed her mind and wouldn’t show up? It would be so embarrassing if she bailed on you last minute. This was too much for you to take.

A loud honking sound came from outside of your home. You glanced up at your window. In the driveway, there was Billie’s car. It looked the exact same as the last time you had seen her.

A big smile grew on your face. You hoped to god this would all work out.

Quickly, you fled out the door and locked up. You tried your best to look as calm and collected as you could as you made your way to her car. You opened the passenger door before slipping inside.

Billie was as beautiful as ever. She had changed into something else. Instead of the silk blouse, she was wearing a rather tight fitting cocktail dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her long blonde hair fell in soft yet voluminous curls. You couldn’t recount all of the nights you thought about running your fingers through it. Billie gave you a cheeky grin.

“Have I stunned you?” She said.

You blushed hard. You didn’t realize that you’d been staring at her. Your eyes instantly gazed at the ground as you tried to hide how flustered you were by seeing her again.

“Uh… Not at all, I… I…” you were struggling to find words.

Her hand moved under your chin as she gently lifted your head. Her eyes met your own.

“It’s okay, honey. You can be attracted to me.” she replied with a small chuckle.

You weren’t sure how to react. All you could think about was the thick, hypnotizing scent of her perfume. She hadn’t changed one bit.

“It’s good to see you.” you managed to say.

“It’s very nice to see you, Y/N.” Billie began, “Shall we?”

You nodded as she pulled out of the driveway.

The car ride was rather quiet. Not in an awkward way, there were no bad vibes whatsoever. But there was an extreme tension between the two of you. What were you supposed to say to her?

She glanced over at you while she drove. You could see her grinning to herself.

“I see you’re wearing the shirt.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you by wearing something else.”

Billie couldn’t keep her eyes off of you even as she was trying to drive.

“I’m glad you didn’t change. It looks much better on you in person.”

You tried hard not to giggle. You felt like a fucking school girl being hit on by a hot older teacher. You had to admit, it was the best feeling in the world right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant, she led you inside. Usually at a nice place like this you would have to make reservations week ahead to even wait for a table. Though, when Billie took you in, they already had a table ready for her. She always had a way with people. Not to mention she was a celebrity now with her new show.

The host sat you two down at a remote table on the terrace of the restaurant. Fairy lights were strewn about overhead that illuminated the small garden that was flourishing with a variety of flowers. A small candle was lit in the middle and a bottle of champagne had already been chilling next to the table. There weren’t any other guests out here; just you and Billie. This was probably the most romantic first date you’d ever been on.

“This place is beautiful…” you began.

“It’s my favorite Italian joint in town. I’m really good friends with the owner, she let me reserve the entire terrace while we’re out here.”

Your lips formed a small smile. She really thought of everything and it showed.

Billie continued to gaze at you. She took in every inch of your body, taking her time to really get a good look at you. The blonde bit her lower lip.

“I must say, you turned into quite a beautiful woman,” she leaned forward slightly, “How is it that you’re still single? I’m surprised that people weren’t falling head over heels for you.”

The smile on your face grew wider. She had such a way with words and all the flirtation was making you feel giddy on the inside.

“I guess I’m just busy. I’m constantly studying or working, I never really have time to pay attention to anyone else.”

“Then I feel extremely honored to be able to take you dinner.” She replied sweetly. The waitress came by just in time and greeted Billie warmly.

“Hey there! Good to see you. We having the usual tonight?”

“You know me too well!” Billie laughed, “You get whatever you want, Y/N.”

You hadn’t even had time to look at the menu because you’d been so fixated on Billie. Feeling a little on the spot, you didn’t even glance down to read any of the entrees.

“I’ll just have whatever she’s having.”

The waitress grinned widely. “Great choice! I’ll have it right out to you.”

Once again, the two of you were alone. Billie poured you a glass of bubbly before pouring one for herself. She held her glass up. Hesitantly, you did the same.

“What shall we toast to, darling?”

Your stomach was in knots. You didn’t want to say something stupid, yet you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“To beautiful women.”

Billie clinked her glass to yours.

“To beautiful women.”

As you sipped on alcohol, Billie sat up straight in her chair.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you last. What… Has it really been four years?”

“I believe so. It’s felt like forever.”

Billie nodded in agreement.

“I remember when I would come to your parent’s place for dinner or when I’d come house sit when they were out of town. We always had such a good time with each other, don’t you think?”

It was true, the two of you had some pretty fond memories. There were countless nights you’d stayed up way past your bedtime on a school night to play card games with her. It was hard playing against a psychic, since she could always sense your next move. Though you always knew she would let you win just to be fair. Other times, she would take you out for dinner since she wasn’t the best cook and then would take you to the movie theater afterward. Your favorite nights were the ones where you two would talk about nothing and everything. Billie was the one that taught you how to use a tarot deck. She was also the one that had banished negative energies in your room when you had a nightmare about demons. The memories you’d shared with her were some of the best memories you had.

“It was always a good time when you came over.” You replied happily, “I always looked forward to your visits. When I moved out of my parent’s place, I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“Nonsense!” Billie retorted. She took your hand into hers and held onto it tightly. “I’ve missed you so much. How could I ever forget about you?”

“I think it was more of an irrational fear.” The feeling of her skin against your own sent shivers down your spine. There were times that she’d touched you in the past in passing or when she reached out to hug you. Though, this was different. This touch was electrifying.

“I’m really glad you reached out. Even if it was by mistake.”

“I am too.” You said in a warm tone.

After a half hour of catching up, the waitress came back with two plates of pasta.

“Here’s that food for you guys! Two pasta primaveras, made special by our head chef himself.”

“Tell Luca that he’s done a wonderful job once again.”

“Of course, Miss Howard. He hopes you guys enjoy it!”

The waitress rushed back inside the restaurant, leaving you two alone once again. You glanced down at the plate that had been presented to you. Normally, pasta wasn’t something you’d care to indulge in. Yet this dish looked more delicious than any other you’d ever seen.

“I met Luca and his wife, Isabella, a few years back when they were working out of a food truck. Their food was so amazing that I helped them get an actual restaurant of their own. They chose this place… It’s better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

It warmed your heart hearing Billie’s story. That was one of the things you loved about her; how much she cared about others. Her show made her seem uptight, or perhaps even rude. She’d taught you how important it was to be assertive around spirits, though some never understood that. Away from all the cameras, she was a big softie.

“That’s amazing… You’re amazing.” you blurted out. Your cheeks turned a bright shade of red. How could you say something so mushy?

Billie wasn’t phased by it. In fact, you made her blush a little as well.

“Try it. This is my favorite thing to get here.”

After what you’d said, you were okay with not talking for a little bit. So you did as you were told. You picked up your fork, twirled some pasta onto the prongs and lifted it so you could take a bite. A burst of flavors touched your tastebuds. It was nothing like you had ever tasted before.

“Oh my god, that’s good!” you exclaimed.

“Luca has a real talent.” Billie replied as she ate from her own plate.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Even though the two of you took a while to eat, neither one of you seemed to mind. You shared so many laughs and stories with her. This was definitely the best date you’d had in a while.

“I don’t want this night to end.” You sighed. Billie raised her brows as she took another sip of champagne.

“It doesn’t have to.”

You could feel your heart racing in your chest. Even after all this time you’d known Billie, you had never seen her place. Not to mention with the way things were going it had the potential to get very heated very quickly.

You couldn’t find the words to form a coherent response.

“I can see right through you, Y/N. I know you’re nervous and I know you’re wondering about my intentions with you. I’m psychic for crying out loud, you can’t hide anything from me.”

You knew she was right. You still found yourself speechless.

“I know what you think about me. I used to listen to all of the little fantasies that would fly around in your head when I would come visit. It was pretty obvious you had a crush on me, sweetheart.”

You felt even more flushed. Why hadn’t you thought about it before? She probably knew everything you’d ever thought about her. She could probably sense how badly you wanted to kiss her. Your body tensed up at the thought.

As if to confirm your fear, she reached out to touch your face. Her thumb gently brushed your cheek as she stared longingly at you.

“I promise that this is all real. I really like you, Y/N.”

That was all you needed. The words almost found you.

“Okay. Let’s go back to your place.”

Billie looked very pleased with your response. Pulling away, she left a cash payment along with a nice tip for the waitress. The older woman stood from her chair and gestured for you to follow.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“I am.” You replied as you stood up to go join her, “Thank you again for dinner. It was delicious.”

She wrapped her arm around your waist as she showed you the way out.

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

You could feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. She’d never given you a pet name like that, though you couldn’t deny how much you loved it. Her hand lowered a little to rest on your ass as if you were already hers. You could definitely get used to this.

REQUEST MORE FICS HERE!

#Billie Dean howard #wrong number #Billie Dean howard x reader #ahs imagine #ahs #american horror story #american horror story imagine #murder house #murder house imagine #Sarah Paulson x reader #hope you guys enjoy!

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years

Text

Purposeful *smut*

Thorin x Reader x Fili

Smut, I hope it's any good. @lilith15000

Would love some more threesome smut. Thorin and Fili. Would love a unique way they would either meet their one or they show unique flirting styles that makes her flustered and turns her on- and they notice. ---lilith15000 tumblr

If someone were to tell you today that you would find yourself in a compromising and much less than innocent position with the King of Erebor and his oldest nephew, you would probably laugh it off and subtly call for help since there is something wrong with that person- but apparently it's not quite as farfetched as you thought it would be.

Now, let me rewind for a second since you must be curious and probably very confused.

It all started that day when Gandalf propositioned you and your dearest brother Bilbo to join him and some dwarves on an adventure to reclaim some mountain with a dragon or whatever in it. You, being you, really wanted to go and accepted the conditions right away, though Bilbo was much more apprehensive to go along with any of it.

He argued and asked what you would even do, but Gandalf filled in an explanation for you. "Well, she'll be our healer of course. What else?"

The two of you ultimately did end up going on this adventure, and you were lucky enough to become pretty close with the eldest of Thorin's two nephews.

You're rather fond of him for your own reasons, but you keep it strictly to yourself and don't dare to let anyone else know of your less than friendly feelings that you've caught.

And honestly, you're mostly convinced that you're not the only one to be feeling in such a way considering the way that he flirts with you so shamelessly.

For example, night after night Fili insists that you share his sleeping area with you, and he's constantly making jokes and advancing jokes just to see you flush.

"M-My hands are freezing..." You had stuttered one night.

Fili wasted no time in replying rather slyly, "Perhaps if I hold it then I can warm you?"

Small things like this and not so subtle touches are what make you assume he likes you. He also insisted that he teach you how to fight himself, and it seems to you that he's only using it as an excuse to get closer to you.

Eventually, he does build up the courage to tell you that he's interested, and quickly following that is some more than PG-13 stuff if you catch my drift.

Little did you know at the time, though, that he isn't the only one who's had their eyes on you, for a certain King has set his sights in a very similar area, and his nephew was very aware of this fact.

They discussed it, and Thorin approached you at one point to tell you as such, and now you're caught in an odd place. Your heart is with Fili, but you can't help but to think of Thorin in a less than innocent way as well.

You did end up kissing the to-be king a few times, and while it's not like Fili doesn't know you do still feel odd.

You're caught between the two of them, and you feel no little amount of shame when you have a moment to think about it all.

---

You're absentmindedly wandering through the trees while everyone gets settled in for the night when Fili first approaches you, a bright smile on his face and determination in his eyes.

Right away you know he's going to ask to teach you some more stuff, and while you don't particularly feel up to it at the moment, you know he'll still convince you to agree.

"Y/N, here you are. I was wondering if you wanted to fight with me?"

You look at him distrustfully and ask cooly, "Are we actually going to fight or are you just going to turn it into another one of your... inappropriate games?"

He smiles wolfishly at the implications behind your words but doesn't deny it, "I'm not sure yet, do you want to find out?"

The deadpan look you give him only makes him smile brighter, and, eventually, you relent and sigh wearily, "Fine, but promise to actually teach me something, this time."

"I can certainly do that. Now, take out your sword and come stand by me." He tells you right away, drawing his own from its sheath with the usual excited glint for combat in his eyes.

Without hesitation you draw your sword and move to stand in front of him, tapping your foot against the ground a few times while you wait.

"Good girl." He purrs, reaching up with his free hand to tap your nose gently.

"Ah, stop that!" You grumble, swatting his hand away before stepping away and raising your sword, getting into proper stance, "You promised to teach me, first."

"Not first, I didn't." He challenges, raising his own with that same battle-hungry gleam sparkling in his, usually, soft blue eyes.

You wait for him to charge you first, and when he does his movements are slower than usual (he always fights with no more than half effort since you're still just a beginner) and he's less guarded.

As soon as he does, you raise your sword and they clash together with a loud clanking noise, and you push forward to try and knock him off balance, but he only slides his blade away and swipes at your side.

You jump away from the slow and controlled blow (he's always extremely careful to not hurt you) and just barely raise your weapon in time to block yet another slash, arms trembling under the power behind his hold on his weapon.

He's got you in a pretty impossible position at the moment (it's only been a few seconds too), and you aren't quite sure what to do.

He's leaning over you with your blades crossed, and you know that you won't be able to keep up against him for too long in this battle of strength, so you jerk your crossed swords to the side and duck the other way, dropping your weapon in the process unfortunately.

It clangs to the ground and the dwarf allows his to follow suit, turning on you with no weapon either.

He then starts to chase you around the clearing, and you kinda just run around in circles, dodging and weaving between trees to keep him from grabbing you.

"Fili!" You shriek when he almost gets a hold of your arm, twirling out of the way and running around another large tree.

"Mahal-" He huffs, panting quietly since you're much too fast for him to keep up with.

All you really have to do is wait him out, you realize, so you continue your scampering and end up taunting him. "Am I too fast?" You call with an excited gleam in your eyes, feeling joyful when he glares at you and lunges towards you once more.

"Stay still, damn it!" He growls when he only catches air once more, frustration beginning to fuel his movements.

You begin to giggle and titter when he becomes more competitive and determined to take you down, but unfortunately your overconfidence betrays you and makes you blind, for your foot gets caught on a root and you fall forward with flailing arms.

Mere seconds after you trip is Fili pouncing on top of you, his arms locking yours against your side while sitting on your lower back (though he does use his knees to keep most of his weight off of you).

"Ughhh," you gripe and groan with a mixture of irritation and discomfort, but you don't bother trying to get him off you since he's so damn heavy.

Fili leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, and slides his forearms to rest on either side of your head, his nose pressing into your hair while he chuckles lowly, "You got arrogant, love."

A pout forms on your lips instantly at his observation of your downfall, and while he's right, it still annoys you.

You turn your head to the side and look up at him with one eye, your cheek pressing against the grass while whine, "It's not fair!"

"Why's it not fair?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, eyeing you with amusement in his gaze.

"B-Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because you always win! And you know you'll always win." You grumble, shifting your arms up to rest under your head. "You also didn't teach me anything."

A smirk slides onto his face as he sits up, relieving some of his weight off of you by lifting himself on his knees, but he doesn't get off you like you thought he would and instead only flips you over onto your back. "I taught you a lesson in humility."

"Humility?" You snort at his words and roll your eyes, reaching up to pinch both his cheeks, "You're the most boastful and swanky fighter in this whole group! There's no way I could learn humility from the likes of you."

When your fingers pinch and prod at his face he glowers at you, reaching up to crush both your hands in his and press them down to the grass by your head, "Awfully bold words from a hobbit who just ate dirt."

"I'd like to see you clamber around in these big feet of mine." You shoot back, still pouting at him for rubbing salt in the wound.

"I'm sure it's much harder that it looks." He hums, leaning over you to begin trailing kisses along your jaw.

While it's a nice feeling that you don't much want to go away, though, you were made a promise. "Hey! I thought you said you would teach me something!"

"I already did." He repeats in a whispers next to your ear, pressing a quick kiss to the shell of your ear before sliding his hands along your sides (thus releasing your hands). "Come on now, love, are you telling me that you're not interested in me at all right now?"

You don't reply right away since you're kinda stuck in an internal debate. Of course, you do want him, but at the same time you want him to properly teach you something this time around.

Eventually, your desire does win out against your interest in becoming a better fighter, so you tangle your hands up in his hair and tug his head down so your lips may meet.

He wastes no time in claiming your lips in a heated lip-lock, his body covering your own while his hands slide up into your tunic and go straight to your chest.

With careful movements you tug and curl your fingers into his hair, tugging at it by the roots while his tongue slides against your own.

"Y-You better not rip my shirt." You warn muffledly into the kiss when you feel his hands begin to bunch up into the cloth of your tunic, and while he does loosen his grip he also complains.

"You're always so touchy about the clothes." He grumbles, pulling away from you so he can discard your shirt properly.

"Well, I don't much fancy the idea of walking around the others bare-chested." You gripe, adding after, "But if you really want me to-"

He grabs your waist with slightly harsh fingers, the scowl on his face betraying his disdain for your teasing speech, "Fine, fine. I see your point." He concedes, grabbing the hem of his own shirt to pull it up over his head, reaching down with one arm to lift you up slightly so he can lay his shirt out underneath you.

After he's got something to separate your soft skin from the harsh, dirty ground he lays you back down and removes your bindings with skilled and ever familiar movements and dips his head down to begin pressing kisses along the expanse of your chest.

You reach up and wrap your arms around his head, keeping him pressed to your chest while he leaves open-mouthed kisses and bites on and around your collarbone, making his way down to your left breast while his hands descend upon the right.

The heat that envelopes your areola when he wraps his lips around your nipple makes a shiver run up your spine, and you bend your legs and press your feet firmly against the ground while he lays on you between your legs. The feeling of him pressing up against you while he sucks and bites at your sensitive chest fills you with heat from head to toe, and when you feel that ever present heat begin to pool between your legs, you know you're done for.

The fingers of his opposite hand work their way into your trousers and immediately delve into your awaiting heat, enjoying the way you shift and start to gasp and keen enthusiastically.

He pulls away from you altogether way too soon for your liking and moves so your legs press together between his, and he tugs at your trousers and pulls them down your legs without hesitation.

As soon as you're bare before him he pushes two of his fingers into you again and bites and licks at your neck, his other arm holding him up so he's no longer laying on you.

You briefly open your eyes to get a look at Fili when movement catches the corner of your eye.

Right away you look towards said movement, though you don't say anything to Fili, and meet the heated gaze of Thorin.

Honestly, you don't know what to do in that moment, but oddly enough you feel a fresh wave of heat wash over you at the look in his eyes and find that you don't feel panicked or anything like you probably should.

Your gaze is ripped away from him when Fili presses his thumb to your clit, however, and your eyes squeeze shut as you whimper softly in need.

Fili pauses suddenly, his head resting between your breasts as he calls suddenly, "Uncle, if you're just going to stand there then at least do so where she can't see you."

You freeze at his acknowledgement of Thorin and look down at him in surprise, glaze flickering over to Thorin and then back again at his blond nephew.

"No, no, don't stop because of me." He replies easily, not moving from his spot just ahead of you, "Truthfully, I did not expect to stumble across something like this during my walk."

"Well, you've certainly stuck around for a while." Fili replies, sitting up slowly with his fingers exiting from you.

You look between the two of them with a flaming face, caught between a state of confusion and embarrassment. "Y-You knew he was there?" You stutter out embarrassedly, looking up at Fili while he straddles your hips.

Fili looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, "I did, and so did you, but you didn't say anything."

Your embarrassment increases tenfold at his mention of you not alerting him to his uncles presence, "I-I... Uh-"

A smile spreads across his face when you start to stutter and become more flustered, and right away he reaches down and caresses your cheek, "I'm only teasing, love, now relax." He tells you quietly, trailing his hand down from your cheek to your neck, then down to your ribs.

"C-Can someone please tell me what's going on here?" You ask incredulously, looking between the two of them again, "I'm confused."

The blond-haired dwarf leans down and whispers softly next to your ear, "You don't mind if my uncle joins us, do you? It's nothing he hasn't seen before." He's talking about you, and you immediately feel ashamed.

Well that's surprising, but certainly not unwelcome at the moment despite your internal guilt.

"U-Uh, I guess not..." You mumble apprehensively, noting the way he frowns as concern flashes across his face.

"Nobody will be upset if you do not want to." He reminds just as sweetly. "It may seem otherwise, but you're in control here."

"No, no I do...Maybe it'll be fun?"

A smile spreads across his face at your admission of wanting it, and he sits up right after and looks back over at his uncle, "I told you she would be fine with it, now stop hovering- it's unnerving." He jokes, going back to kiss you while also still leaving you with another question.

They talked about this before?

Instead of harping on it you just return the kiss and run your fingers up into his wild mane of hair, listening as Thorin approaches, nerves alight with anticipation of what's going to happen next.

Fili retracts from your lips after a moment and settles at your neck, and as soon as Fili is gone a new ever familiar pair hands cup your cheeks.

Your attention is directed to Thorin, and a smile works its way onto your face right away, "H-Hi." You stutter, pressing your forehead against his.

He returns the smile and greeting, "Hello." And then surges forward and presses his lips firmly against yours.

No time is wasted on your part in returning the slightly harsher kiss, one of your hands flying up to bury in his dark hair while Fili's hands wander along the length of your body.

Fili's hand finds your awaiting heat once more and right away he resumes his actions from back before Thorin interrupted him, his fingers sliding into your slick heat with little difficulty.

You start to tug at Thorin's coat while he continues to 'smother' you in heated kisses and gentle touches along your chest and stomach, so he pauses that and shrugs off his jacket; his shirt following soon after.

Yes, you've had them both in the past, but never at the same time, and all of your senses are alight with want and anticipation for what is to come.

Thorin's hair is slightly tangly as you card your fingers through them, one of your other hands slipping down to run along his chest while Fili pumps his fingers faster inside of you.

"F-Fili..." You call softly, squeezing your eyes shut as your ministrations on Thorin pause.

Said dwarf raises his head from your neck and offers you a wolfishly dashing smile, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek lightly.

Fili removes his hand from you again, and when you whine from the loss of contact he chuckles and grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up slightly so you'll sit up.

Thorin pulls away and looks at Fili with a raised eyebrow, though he doesn't move to stop him and only waits.

Fili slowly lays back and continues to look at you, urging in his ever husky and sexy voice, "Come along, gehyith*, take a seat." *little dove

Your face floods with fresh redness and warmth from what he's asking you to do, and while it's very tempting, you can't help but to glance over at Thorin who is looking at you with the same amount of lusting heat. When all he does is watch, though, you go ahead and do as Fili urged and climb over him, settling on his chest with a nervous smile on your face.

He returns the smile tenfold, then grabs your thighs and pulls you so your awaiting sex is much closer; and, without further hesitation, he attaches his mouth to your clit.

You lean forward slightly and place your hands on the grassy ground, closing your eyes with furrowed brows as you moan and gasp in a very pleased manner.

His mustache and beard rub against your skin slightly uncomfortably, but the discomfort mixed with the undeniable pleasure he gives you make for a wonderful combination.

Suddenly, in the midst of your hazy mind you remember Thorin is there as well, and you glance back and see that he has removed his trousers and is looking at your face with a very heated expression.

"C-Come here." You coax with a bit of a stutter, legs twitching and tensing when Fili scrapes his teeth against your sensitive nub down below.

Thorin, of course, does not dither and settles next to the both of you, his hand immediately fisting in your hair as he brings you down to kiss him once more.

Your moans are muffled and swallowed into the passionate kiss between you and the dark-haired dwarf, and you reach down and grasp him firmly in your hand, committing the way he tenses and grunts to memory.

A couple of times you rock your hips down against Fili, but that ends quickly when he grabs your thighs and holds you in place, taking exactly what he wants while also giving you everything you need.

When your struggles to catch your breath become a problem, you pull away from the kiss and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, still gliding your hand up and down the length of him as you draw more groans and pleased words from Thorin.

He begins to shift suddenly when your cautious strokes lessen and gasping increases, and then he stands and looks as if he's about to move away and await his proper turn.

You don't much like that, though, so before he can move away (if that was even what he was planning on doing in the first place) you grab his hips and press your face to his hip, stroking your hand up lightly along his side as broken moans and gasps leave from your parted lips.

After you've regained some of your composure, you reach up and grasp his twitching and very hard cock and start to gently stroke it much like before, turning your head to wrap your lips around the crown of his very kingly erection.

Thorin's hands fly to your hair and he grabs you with both of his hands, his pleasure becoming more prominent at having your mouth on him mixed with the needy and desiring moans that vibrate throughout your mouth.

Your name tumbles from his lips and his hold on your head tightens as you bring more of him into your mouth, your thighs tense under Fili's harsh hold.

Almost right away does Thorin begin to direct your movements by moving your head along, his hips occasionally jutting forward a bit when his hips spasm.

One of your hands ended up fisted in Fili's hair at some point as well, and your knees are pressed into either side of his head. You probably would've crushed his head by now if it weren't for the fact that the blond was holding onto your thighs so tightly.

You can feel your release quickly approaching and so your moans grow more frequent, the mere feeling of Fili's hot tongue delving into you is enough to rid you of all rational thought.

Your nails lightly scratch at Fili's scalp when his teeth scrape against you once again, and a resounding groan is his response to your head scratching.

Thorin's guiding of your head becomes fast as he too grows closer to his release, and he begins to breathe soft praises and words in Khuzdul.

A minute or so after, Thorin spends himself into your mouth with a few curses, his fingers pushing some of your hair out of your face while his other hand grazes down your cheek carefully.

Your breaths come out in short loud pants mixed with the higher-pitched whines of pleasure that leave you, and a few moments later you start to tense and your eyes squeeze shut.

You cry their names as you reach your end and your fingers tangled in Fili's hair gently yank at it by the roots.

The rapid rising and falling of your chest as you struggle to regain your breath as well as the quiet pants from Thorin are the only noises in the clearing at the moment.

Slowly you lean back and rest your hands on the ground on either side of Fili's laying form, arms shaking slightly as you try to catch your breath (you also forget for a moment that you're sitting on Fili).

Fili reaches up and grabs your hips, lifting you up a bit so he can slide up to a seated position while wiping his face with a big grin on his lips.

You look at him with hot cheeks and a sheepish expression on your face, seeing right away that he's painfully hard and straining against his trousers.

The blond dwarf leans forward and pecks your cheek, looking over at his uncle who has seated himself on the ground just a few inches away from you both with the same pleased look on his face.

You're tired, yes, but Fili is still waiting for a turn and if you saw right, Thorin wasn't sated properly in the first place.

With careful and slightly shaky movements you reach up and cup Fili's cheeks, going in to kiss him again before he places his hand on your chest and keeps you back, "Don't worry about me, gehyith, take a break." He urges in a quiet voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"Are you s-sure?" You ask softly, skimming your fingers down his cheek gently.

"I'm sure." He tells you softly, glancing over at Thorin with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sure as well, clearly. Come." He gestures for you to come closer and once you do, he wraps his arms around you gently and has you lay back against his chest, your feet coming up to rest on Fili's still clothed legs.

"We're perfectly content with waiting."

#the hobbit fanfiction #fanfic #the hobbit #romance #tolkien #thorins company #thorin oakenshield #the company of thorin oakenshield #uncle thorin #king thorin #thorin fanfiction #fili imagine #fili x reader #fili durin #fili #thorin x reader #thorin x reader x fili #request #smut

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onceuponaloonatic · 4 years

Note

Okay imagine in au au Sana just getting really sad because she wants to spend time with her Saya. That's her baby, and she's been ignoring her mom and so she misses her. Sana teary eyed promises not to talk about baby stuff the entire day if she'll spend time with her, and Saya agrees. Unfortunately Sana has a terrible backache, but she doesn't say it because it's babyrelated. However Saya is still an alpha, and she picks up on her mom trying to hide her discomfort so Saya offers a back rub. 🦄

Saya had hated Nico from the minute they told her about her. Of her sisters, she had acted the most childish and bratty about it. She just couldn’t understand why her parents were having a baby now. She was fifteen. She should be worrying about stupid high school stuff and begging her parents for money to take her girlfriend out on a date to the movies not changning her little sisters diapers or loosing sleep over a child. Sure it wasn’t her child, but she still had to live with it. Sae and Saki had both been okay with it, as they had both spent a lot of time at their partners houses where there were babies around, but Saya didn’t have that. Yujin’s family parents were older and Yujin was their youngest child. Plus, Saya was the least grown up of her sisters. Saki and Sae both grew up fast, but Saya? Saya had been coddled by her mom and she loved the attention. Sure Saki and Sae were babied growing up too, but the two of them were different than Saya. Sae had always been the closest to Mina, and Saki had always been closest to Tzuyu. But Saya? Saya was “mommy’s little Saya” her whole life. Despite being the oldest triplet, Sana at least treated her like the youngest.

So to find out her mom was having another baby, another youngest, hurt her. She felt like she was being replaced now that she was older. And she knew this was childish thinking, but it’s just how she felt. And she hated it.

So she ignored Sana. She was always taught if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say it so Saya just avoided Sana and all talk of the baby. She spent all of her weekends at Yujin’s (even though her parents had tried to stop her) and she spent her whole days at practice so by the time she got home her mother was fast asleep. She avoided all conversations or texts about the baby. She didn’t even know Nico was a girl until three weeks after everyone else did. She didn’t know her name until Sana was in her fifth month, despite her parents agreeing on it soon after they found out Nico was a girl. She avoided all things Sana and all things baby.

Which absolutely crushed Sana. She and Saya had always been so close, and all the other kids had been supportive over her pregnancy. So for Saya to not even want to look at her? That crushed her. She missed her daughter. She wanted their relationship to go back to normal. She wanted to spend lazy afternoons talking with Saya about all the school drama. Saki and Sae both weren’t too involved in the gossip, but Saya usually knew all of the details. And Sana liked to talk about it with her daughter. She liked being not only Saya’s mom, but her friend too.

But they had lost that. Ever since Sana told Saya Nico was coming around things just weren’t the same. So she was determined to fix it.

“Saya-chan?” Sana knocked on her daughter's door. She had been able to catch Saya in a small window before she went to Yujin’s house for the whole day and while she was actually awake. That was a very small window, and usually it was consumed with Saki and Sae reminding their sister to do her homework.

“What?” Saya opened her door, clearly still a bit tired. Sana was very familiar with Saya’s sleeping schedule. She woke up around twelve every day on the weekend and went to bed around three. During school nights her sleeping habits were much better, as she always wanted to be rested for soccer training in the morning.

“I’m sorry to bother you sweetie, I just haven’t seen you in two weeks.” “Well now you have.” Saya gripped. “What do you need?” “Well… I um can you come out with me next weekend after your game? I really miss spending time with you.” Sana did. Saya was her baby, and it hurt so much to have her ignore her.

“I’m busy then.” Saya shut her bedroom door. Sana sighed in defeat and put one hand on her stomach. “Saya Unnie is just acting, I promise she loves us.” Sana whispered to her bump. Later that night, Sana cried. It hurt her so much for Saya to treat her like that. The next day, Mina and Tzuyu both cornered Saya and told her she was canceling her plans and going out with Sana whether she liked it or not. Saya groaned, but her parents did not even give her the choice.

And that’s how Saya found herself sitting in a cafe with her mom during her precious time off.

“I won’t talk about Nico- uh you know who all day I promise Saya.” Sana had a huge smile on her face. She had finally gotten Saya to go out with her.

“Yeah sure.” Saya yawned. Sana had gotten a sundae while Saya was eating a snack. “You did well in your game today.” Sana started a conversation with her daughter.

“Thank you,” Saya yawned. “It wasn’t too bad.” “Saya you won six to nothing.” Sana giggled. “I would say that was really good.” “Yeah well, we will be going against much better people soon.” Saya stuck a piece of food in her mouth. “Well still… I’m proud of you.” Sana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had promised Saya not to mention it, but her back was killing her. Pregnancy at thirty nine was much harder than it had been before, and it always felt like her whole body was trying to kill her. But even if she was in pain, she had to bear it. She promised Saya she wouldn’t talk about her pregnancy and so she wouldn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Saya asked, noticing the discomfort on her mom’s face and body position.

“Oh it’s nothing.” Sana nodded. “What do you want to do after this? Do you want to see a movie or-”

“Mom I can tell you're in pain.” Saya nodded. “What’s wrong?” Even if she had been acting like an asshole lately, she still cared about her mother. And she didn’t want her to be in pain.

“I can’t answer honey.” “Why?” “Because it’s… Well baby related.” Sana nodded, “I’m fine-”

“Just tell me.” Saya sighed. “I know you promised but if you're in pain I can’t just sit here and watch you be uncomfortable.” “Well uh… My back hurts. It’s normal, but I’ve been getting a lot of back aches lately. I’ll be fine though they are never serious.” Sana explained. Saya didn’t answer with words, instead standing up and sitting next to Sana. She immediately began rubbing her mom’s back. “What are you doing?” “Giving you a back rub.” Saya answered. “Where does it hurt?” “Just go a bit lower.” Sana smiled at her daughter.

Even if Saya was acting like a spoiled child, she really did still love Sana at the end of the day. And even if she wouldn’t admit it, Sana knew a piece of Saya loved Nico too.

#twice #misatzu #minatozaki sana #myoui mina #chou tzuyu #saya #au au #🦄 anon

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 years

Text

I have a ton of insomnia writing in the drafts, so time to start unloading some of it. The usual “as is” rules apply, and I’ll try to keep most of it under the cut,

It just occured to me that I actually have one piece of good advice to give:

If you challenge someone to a duel, ALWAYS have a witness for the fight!

I learned this the hard way when I was a little girl. But to understand why I felt the need to even duel someone, you need to understand the background.

When I was a little girl my family lived in our house in town, which meant until I was 9 I was running around with a gang of kids. I say “kids”, but I pretty much mean boys. There were a couple of years during that time when a girl was inthe neighborhood, one being one of the best friends I had in my life and the other....not, but almost the entire time I was the only girl in the neighborhood.

Now some folks think being the only girl would be terrible, but in a lot of ways it was fine. Kids are kids, rampaging around the neighborhood, and thanks to my family I never felt things should be “girl stuff” and “boy stuff”. I just played.

In fact, at times being the only girl even gave me a curious power position. I knew “girl things” they didn’t. I can still remember the shock on the face of one of the boys when I tried to explain that I didn’t just piss outside like them because of anatomical differences. He just assumed girls had dicks too.

BTW, groups of very little boys can get awfully competitive about their dicks. Not that they called them that. They honest to god called them “ding-a-lings”! LOL In fact, a few times they even had a contest where they would line up with their pants dropped wanting me (the only one that was exempt) to decide which looked “best”. Remember, at the time we were very little kids, so the concept of “best” was exceptionally vague.** I hope I didn’t give any of those boys a lifelong complex because of something I said in all innocence! But geez, they were obsessed with the idea that whatever hung between their legs was very, very important.

Anyway, running around playing being a girl among boys wasn’t bad all the time. Heck, while the boys could fight over who got to play Han and Luke when we played “Star Wars” or Mark and Jason when we played “Battle of the Planets”, I always knew I wouldn’t have to compete for my part in the games. Though I’m still a little irked to the way their only solution to Gargantuas in War of the Gargantuas being both male was I’d play “the green Gargantua’s wife, at least we always found a way even if what we were playing didn’t have a token girl.

All that being said, there were real disadvantages too, especially as the bots came to learn the rules around gender. I was a girl. They knew it and at times they would think it meant I was supposed to defer to them. This led to many a fight and tears.

For instance, once one of the boys got a BB gun.

Naturally we all wanted to take turns using it in a makeshift backyard shooting gallery. Trouble was, as far as they were concerned girls weren’t supposed to shoot. Now considering all the toy cap guns they borrowed from me when we played, and the gun I had that shot cork balls had been the envy of all the kids*** until this BB gun, it seems crazy they would think girls weren’t allowed “real” guns. I begged a turn, outshot them all, and never was allowed to touch the gun again. ****Having a girl be the best shot kinda stung for them! LOL

The boys would do this now and then, throw me for a loop with “you are a girl” as a reason I should or shouldn’t do a thing. Being a “sissy” was a common insult used among the kids. A kid should be tough and brave, try never to get crying or show weakness, or sometimes they would even use “like a girl” as an insult.

I learned that my “girly” side was more of a target, so I got so in the toy chest in the living room I kept the guns, cars, blocks, etc for the boys to use, but kept hidden away in my bedroom the girly stuff like dolls. In fact I kept things like play makeup buried in drawer where no one could find them...

Yes, I was a girl, both in my personal identification and as the whole world saw me, and yet I hid my “girl stuff” like a teenager hiding drugs or dirty magazines. It was the big drawback of usually being the only girl. The girly side of being a girl was something to be quiet about.

So grew up thinking that the way to impress a guy was to be strong, tough, smart, brave, and not at all squeamish. If boys admire each other for not being a sissy, then certainly they would admire a girl for being that way.

Oddly enough, never once did a boy reciprocate my crushes because I wasn’t a sissy. Oh, they would like me for it, but it was seeing me as one of the guys and never as romantic potential. Or maybe not oddly. I may be hetero CIS female, but the world sees me as not girly enough in my presentation to quite believe me.

TBH, I still have a problem with that. I never learned the rules of being girly. I never was taught how to put on makeup, do hair, know about fashion, move in that swaying hips and crossed ankles when you sit kind of way...

And down deep I don’t want to have to put on that act. I want to be me. I want someone to love me without makeup or styling, not because of the clothes I wear or because of skills with flirting games. I want to be loved for me, and girly is only part of me. Part of me is walks in the woods where I photograph snakes and spiders. Part of me is climbing in the roof to repair a leak or taking apart the hot water heater to figure out how to fix it....

I have always been a combination of things. Things like how I like romantic comedies and horror films, I picked out my antique sword because it felt like it would swing in my hand well and it had little flowers on the hand guard, or how I love classical and punk.I never wear dresses during the day, because they aren’t practical for my rough and dirty life, plus they can make you very vulnerable. And yet at night I always wear the prettiest nightgown I can find. I had a unique “Captain’s Canopy Bed” as a child, because I loved both the captain’s bed (a bunk woth drawers under it billed as a “boy bed” by people that gender everything) and longed for a canopy bed. My father sensibly combined the two for me. To me it has never been about a contradiction or conflict, but just that different aspects manifest under different circumstances.

I really can’t understand why people are expected to fit into catagories neatly, label themselves, force themselves to deny parts if themselves just to belong. Still, I expect I would be happier if I could have at least forced myself to fake it.

Anyway, the boys were learning girls were “supposed” to be a certain way, and I was constantly insisting this wasn’t true. They would pick on me amd we would fight. Oddly, this “girls can’t” attitude never applied to fighting. They never went easier on me because I was a girl.

Once they got me treed and the henchman boy was told to go get something to hit me with. I warned him not to, but he didn’t listen. As he went to get the weapon I lept out of the tree in a tackle, and began punching him. My grandmother ran out shouting for me to stop. “It’s not ladylike!!” she cried, while I shouted back in frustration “They were going to hit me!!”

Don’t worry, I wasn’t punished. Grandma..well, it’s complicated with her...and my parents would never punish me for something like that. Years later Mom would admit she and Pop were proud if me after that fight. “The boys picked on you so much I was glad you hit them”...

Hmmm, now that I think about it, Mom’s most common response to sexist attitudes in movies and tv shows is to grumble “Oh hit him!” Folks have no idea about Mom’s violent side, the part that watched Xena: Warrior Princess and sighed “I always wanted to be able to leap around and fight like that!” People think she is “sweet”, when Pop was always the family softie! LOL

As we got older, the sexism of the boys got worse and so did our conflict. One boy, a year older than me and the oldest of the usual gang, was the worst. His own mother was a rather strong and independent person, so it was almost confusing how he could be that way. As far as he was concerned the social structure was thatthe older the boy the higher the rank, and girls were at the bottom. It was inevitable that one day their would be an explosion.

The final straw came over, of all things, me wanting to make our gang of friends into a club. It was all the fault if a kids magazine called Dynamite, that put out a book on making your own club, complete with membership cards printed in a fold out of the cover you could cut out. It sounded like a great idea. It wasn’t.

To be honest, I shouldn’t have been at all surprised. By this point the oldest boy had gotten to be a complete pain about gender roles, but also about me in particular. My first day of kindergarten he’d been the only person I knew all day, so when I passed him in the hall I’d said “Hello”. The boy next to him asked who I was and he said “I don’t know!” right in front of me. I had started to consider our “friendship” differently after that, and his now increased insistence that boys were superior increased the rift.

To make matters worse, the boys had developed some sort of age based ranking. When I invited the oldest boy’s little brother to come to the club meeting too, the guy had been outraged. It had seemed natural to me, I mean I invited my little brother. I always wanted to include everyone. To the boys, the younger boys didn’t count and the older you were the more power you were “supposed” to have.

Now for the club I’d fixed up a corner of the shed out back. I put up posters, made a candle (I just loved making candles and melting wax when I was little...us GenXers lived dangerous lives!LOL), set up chairs and a table, had refreshments and, of course, the membership cards. I couldn’t wait for them to show up.

Once the boys arrived I said it was time to elect officers. Immediately the oldest boy announced there was no need and started to pass out the cards. He said he would be president because he was oldest, my favorite boy would be vice president, the thieving henchman would be treasurer because he was next oldest, the other boys would be just members, and I would be...secretary.

Oh he was glad to explain. Girls are always secretaries. Only girls can be secretaries. Girls can never be president. The other boys accepted this.

Naturally I was outraged. This was NOT right! We were supposed to vote! And we were supposed to vote for who would be best for the job, not who was oldest or a boy. Girls CAN be president! And besides, the club was my idea and the clubhouse in my yard so I shouldn’t be stuck being the stupid secretary without even voting!!!!

There was a lot of shouting after that. The boys stormed off, taking the cards with them. I went in the house to take the refreshments, and the boys snuck back to trash the place. They tore the posters, smashed my candle, and turned over the furniture.

I cried.

I was also furious.

I was beyond fed up with the oldest boy and his assumption of leadership. Now my favorite boy did apologize, but he was always the nice one. The others were unrepentant. The oldest boy insisted he was right that girls could never lead.

There was only one thing left to do: Challenge the oldest boy to a duel.

I went right up to him and said I’d had enough. I was challenging him to a fight. One on one, just him and me. No weapons, just our strength. The winner would be the leader of the kids.

I know it’s absurd, but since physical fighting is what they valued I figured I had to go with it. Actually, if anything, a fight would be skewed in my favor. While the boy was a year older, I was a head taller. Where he was lanky, I’d gotten to be a sort of muscular and agile fat.***** Physically the avantage was mine, an since refusing to fight me would be so embarrassing to him I knew I’d get the fight.

He agreed, and then I made a very stupid mistake. I decided to show him a bit of mercy. Since losing to a girl would be so humilating, I set the time and place where we would meet alone for our fight. I wanted to win, to make my point, but I wasn’t trying to shame him.

And so the time came. We met in a back yard, in clear area hidden from windows in case an adult was looking by trees. I wish I could tell you some dramatic blow by blow, but honestly I remember it as very quick. He fancied he knew fighting moves, got into a pose, and I flattened him. Almost admittedly I had him pinned to the ground where I sat on top of him until he admitted I had won.

I went home overjoyed. This lasted until the kids got together. I, oh so foolishly, assumed I was now leader. The boy, however, was not about to give up power...or tell the truth.

As an adult I realize my naivety, but at the time I was 7 or 8. I honestly had believed the boy would have been honest. I always told the truth, so why wouldn’t he? And since we had made a sort of “official” deal, he would be obliged to tell the truth.

He lied. Right there, right in front of me, he lied.

The boy announced he had won. I said he was lying, that I had won, and he laughed. Of course he had won. He was a boy. Did the boys really think a girl could beat him?

I offered to fight him again right there, but he refused saying he’d already won. I couldn’t get him to feel pressured to fight me again because now the boys wouldn’t really want him to. On some level I think they believed me and knew I would win if we fought again. As long as they didn’t see me clobber him they could pretend the boys “deserved” to be in charge. They needed the lie as much as he did.

And so I learned a lesson: witneses matter. People will almost always lie if the truth threatens them.

You know, I think this is why I have always been obsessed with watching when something horrible is happening. I always had this feeling that even when I can’t help, I can be there for the person in some way. I’d listen, watch, and remember. When I was 9 I stood in the snow, no coat and no socks, waiting until a man was removed from a crashed car because I didn’t want to “abandon” him. I would report teachers that did something incredibly wrong, even though I knew the teacher would deny it and I knew my classmates were too afraid to back me up, because the truth had to be known. I wanted to be the witness I needed for that fight, someone to back me up when no one wants to hear the truth.

As a footnote, after the duel failed I tried one more way to defeat the oldest boy: Voodoo!

Well, voodoo by way of a book I’d been reading. It wasn’t real voodoo, or probably like any realistic magical practices. In the book someone had carved a skull into a tree, written someone’s name under it, and the hammered a nail into the center of the skull with devastating consequences to the victim. I had a pocket knife and a nail, so I gave it a go.

Sadly voodoo didn’t work.

Even more sadly the boy grew up to move away from this hick town, get a good job, get married and have kids. In other words, he got a far better life than I’ve had. Oh well, the universe never cares about fairness.

** Actually one boy always won, because TBH I liked everything about him best.

***Hilariously, one of the boys tried to steal my cork gun, claiming it was his. Pop had engraved my name in the gun sight, and when my father pointed at to ask what it said, the boy claimed it was his name! That boy was never very bright, always dishonest, and a born henchman! LOL You know, I bet that toy gun would have been illegal to make just a few years later, just because it literally fired things. Heck, maybe it already was and had been sitting on the store shelf for years before I got it. We couldn’t find one like it a coulle years later for my little brother....

****I want to point out being a good shot runs in the family. Back in the 1960s when my family had to shoot for self defense (long story) Mom was apparently a crack shot. On one side of her family she has had relatives that were at times the official best shot for their branch of the military. One, even as an old man in poor health, liked to show off how he could selectively shoot off small tree top branches a long diatance uphill from him. Plus, Mom likes to mention she is distantly related to Annie Oakley, which is apparenty true.

*****Traumatic stuff happened when I started school, triggering a bunch of sudden changes with me. One was weight gain, but I had stayed strong as ever.

#childhood #gender #fighting #duel #sexism #children

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bazzybelle · 4 years

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Name ten favorite characters from ten different things (books, tv, film, etc.), then tag ten people.

Thank you @fight-surrender and @xivz for tagging me! I send you hearts and happy.

I won’t be tagging ten people, because I’m all tagged out... But if anyone wants to have the fun, by all means go ahead.

1) Simon Snow from Carry On / Wayward Son

So, kind of an obvious choice. I mean my favourite character from the series is Baz (to no one’s surprise) however, I relate SO much to Simon, it’s insane (which is ironic, considering I have so much trouble writing his POV). I especially relate to him in Wayward Son, with his depression, thoughts of worthlessness, thinking your partner deserves better than you, fucking intimacy issues....

At the same time, there’s also the need to always fight. Shit is hard, and life is hard, but I’m still fighting. And some days, I want to stay in bed and not go outside, but I’m fighting that urge.

2) Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter

So I was always seen as “the weird kid” in school. Always kinda in the clouds, saying random things, acting weird. I never really knew how to act around people (hell, I still don’t know how to act around people). Because of that, I was bullied... a lot.

Media doesn’t really shine a positive light on those who are considered “weird”. They are often times pushed aside and are used as comedic props (at least, it didn’t when I was kid). I read Harry Potter in my 20′s, and I wish I had read the books earlier, because I saw myself in Luna. Luna is the weird kid, but she does not give a flying EFF about. She knows who she is, and she’s proud to express herself in anyway she can.

3) Piper Halliwell from Charmed (OG Charmed)

I was introduced to fandom worlds because of Charmed, so I felt like I had to include it here.

I always connected to Piper and her personality. I’m actually not the middle child, I’m the oldest. But in terms of my cousins, I’ve been the one who was drowned out by the others. Never wanting to fight, very complacent and going with what everyone else wanted to do.

Piper was the quiet one, but she also knew how to get shit done. When her sister are being ridiculous, she’s the one that pulls them together. She’s the heart of the family, and takes care of those around her. I especially admired her taking the reigns as head of the family after Prue dies. She’s heart broken, destroyed, and wants to give up, but she knows she can’t. he has to be strong for those around her. She has to pick up the pieces and help her family move on.

Piper rocks.

4) Selva Chopper from Namesake

Selva is just a burst of sunshine and happiness. She lives with her heart on her sleeves and she’s perfectly happy to do so. Her favourite activities include dressing up and making clothes, kissing her wonderful girlfriend, Alice, and giving her twin brother crap for being a dummy sometimes.

Selva wants to explore the world and live her life without fear and paranoia. She’s finally starting to get a proper handle on her powers, and she’s ready to just be happy and live outside of Oz.

At the same time, she is not someone to be trifled with. She is a very powerful witch in her own right, and if you push her to that limit, she can be down right ruthless.

5) Sansa Stark from Game of Thrones (TV show)

Ok... I know I’m going to get a lot of crap for this (especially since the ending of GoT is downright controversial within fandoms, and if you mention it, you need to be ready for an argument). I’m not here to argue about the ending... so, please be nice.

ANYWAYS, I actually liked Sansa’s character, and I especially loved her character’s development, from naive pretty-girl, to a smart, capable ruler. Sansa demonstrates that you can always learn from your experiences and grow from them. She takes the honour learned from her father, and combines that with the ruthlessness learned from Cersei, as well as the cunning learned from Littlefinger, to gain independence for her people, and come through as one of the survivors of the Game of Thrones.

6) Cather Avery from Fangirl

As someone who spent a good chunk of her life, obsessing over fandoms and living within them, I really felt a connection to Cath. I used the fanfiction and RPing groups I was a part of in order to escape the shitty reality of my life. Also... massive anxiety... so yeah...

I need to re-read that book... It’s been a while since I read it.

7) Emily Prentiss from Criminal Minds

I love badass women in media and Emily Prentiss is a bad ass b*tch. She’s also my top crush for now and forever. I swoon over her.

She’s strong, powerful, but also extremely kind and gentle and fiercely protective of her team. She speaks several different languages, and is very intelligent and perceptive (she’s the only one who figures out that Reid’s abusing drugs). She is everything I want to be... Also, I just like looking at her. *sigh*

8) Lucian Darnay from The Binding

I love him so effing much! This book ruined me... I want to take Lucian and just give him a big hug and tell him that he deserves to be happy and that everything he’s been taught to believe is wrong.

9) Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle

This is recent, because I only saw the movie like a month ago, but I’ve latched onto it, and I’m a little obsessed (what... really... shocker, i know). It doesn’t help that my current favourite fic is @ninemagicks Howl fic, so that’s been feeding my Howl obsession.

He’s just such a funny character and so over the top. Like I love how Sophie just yells at him and calls him on his bullshit... It’s great!

At the same time, he is so kind and gentle, and wants to do what’s best, even though he doesn’t always have the courage to do so.

10) Faye Whitaker from Questionable Content

I have been following this webcomic for many many years, and one of my favourite characters to follow is Faye. Her story has had so many ups and downs, and she has been through hell and back, and has come out on top. She has had to deal with a horrifying childhood memory, her issues with opening herself up to people, learning to allow herself to love, and what to do once you’ve hit rock bottom.

Faye’s mental health journey is honestly inspiring. To see her finally in a stable, healthy relationship and doing something that makes her happy is so wonderful.

#tagging thing #tagging game #10 characters

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mayve-hems · 5 years

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One Moment At A Time

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: Delaware has been in and out of the foster care system for the longest time until she docks with the Hemmings. Through harassment, playful actions, and a few received slaps, Michael Clifford has decided to make her time there incredible and unforgettable.

Word Count: 16.0k

Note: If you would like to request a one shot / imagine / story prompt then I am accepting requests currently and I would love to take them! This took me a while and I didn’t have much time to proofread it, but I hope you’ll like it! Alng with that, Mali-Koa is younger than she would’ve been at this time, and the age difference between her and Calum is a lot less than real life.

Warnings: Sadly, none :)

She was proud of her name throughout grade school, the middle years of uncomfortable pubescence, and the first weeks of high school, but after her last foster family, she couldn’t help but hate every syllable and letter among the long word. The last house she was at, the woman that acted as a mother told her to come up with a nickname or something else to be called rather than Delaware because that’s such a stupid name. “Della,” the fat woman told her before tucking greasy strands of hair behind her large ears. “That’s much better than Delaware. If you stay for a while, we’ll get the paperwork to change it to Della entirely and you’ll never be disgraced with the idiocy of your birth mother.” Then, she stroked Delaware’s shoulder with an inconsiderate hand and commented on bleaching purple hair dye from her long locks so she’d appear more presentable.

After a year of living in an abusive foster house, Delaware cringes when somebody even whispers her real name. She’ll flip around when she hears that word, no matter the conversation, and tell them that it’s Della, and if you dare say, Delaware, she’ll smack you upside down and backward. She said that to her teacher on accident, just a few days before packing up her bedroom, causing a suspension and the demand for her to be removed from the Karlsen household ASAP. She didn’t realize Mr. Lund had been telling another student about his trip to the state Delaware the summer before, and he wasn’t forgiving from her threat.

Mrs. Hemmings- sorry, Liz, was very considerate and made a point to ask Delaware what she’d prefer to be called. She’d fostered a kid that preferred to go by Styles, his last name, then Harry like everybody else had taught him. Delaware mumbled ‘Della’ before tucking long box-bleached hair underneath her grey hoodie. Liz carried a bag up the stairs for Delaware so she could idle in the living room with a mess of boys.

They all looked exactly alike- and that majorly fucked with her head. Liz hurried back down the stairs and captured Delaware’s pale hand in her own and lead her to her new bedroom. A white-walled room with shaggy carpet that would scratch your skin if you fell asleep on top of it. Liz sat Delaware -the girl frozen in fear of being snapped at- on her new bed and pulled five different pillowcases from the top shelf of the closet and asked her to pick the one she liked best. Delaware pointed at a jersey sheet with purple and gold planets swirling around a peach background. Liz walked out of the room to grab the bedsheet set that Delaware picked out, and Delaware finally had a moment to take in the look of the room.

A stripped mattress on a black bed frame against a wall, with just a few inches in between the left side of the bed and a large windowsill. Then, there are two black box shelves underneath the white sill that seem to be onto a foot tall and a foot wide each. That interests Delaware. What in the world could be put there? On the other side of the sill sits a blank desk with a brand new stationery set and plain notebooks. The sliding closet door is a mirror and a few feet away from the desk. Delaware can’t see very well inside of the closet, but she notices clothes. Like shirts, and a few pairs of jeans, and a black flowy dress that would be something she’d have to dream for.

“Here,” Liz says, setting down the bedspread Delaware picked out. “I can put this on for you. Unpack your stuff the way you’d like, okay? Make this room the way you want to feel at home. Even if that means buying posters, and I have some Christmas lights downstairs if those interest you, and whatever else you say your room needs. Ask for it, and we will get it just for you.”

A warm feeling spreads through Delaware’s body, from her neck down to her frozen toes. She opens one of the bags she’d brought from the Karlsen house and pulls clothes from inside. They’re wrinkled, and most of them haven’t been washed since the week before she’d left. The Saturday after her suspension was laundry day, meaning nothing had been cleaned before that. She thought about it for a second. Should she ask if these can be washed first, or should she wait until Liz asks her?

“Is there a laundry basket I can use?” Liz barely hears. Delaware is so soft, so quiet and unheard that she’s surprised by her behavior. Her other foster child is so loud and outgoing she half expected Delaware to be that way. Though, she should have expected that almost all of the other kids she’d had been closed off and emotionless. He’s only an exception because he and her youngest son had been best friends for the longest time until his mother gave up, and Liz took him without a second thought. She pushed and pushed for adoption to come through fully, but his mom kept trying to clean up from her drug addiction and every once in awhile she’d say that she wanted her son back from Liz. No matter what, Liz will still adopt Ashton in a heartbeat.

“Of course, Della,” Liz gripped the bedsheet onto one of the corners and let the others sit as she reached underneath the bed frame for a large white basket. “Here. I’m going to do a load of laundry in a little bit. Feel free to put whatever you need in here, and if there are any special instructions for things just let me know.”

Delaware threw things in the basket and hung clothes in the closet, dividing the clothes that had been there and hers with two plastic hangers. Inside the closet, she was given a small dresser that she stuffed with her pitying amount of clothes. The clothes she’d left in the laundry room and the shirts Mrs. Karlsen’s daughter had borrowed are still there, waiting for somebody to take them to Delaware, but she’ll never be given them back. She’d given Madison Karlsen, the eldest of the children, a shirt from her first foster family. One with her name on the back of it in large black letters that looped together. On the front was the family’s brand -her first foster family lived on a farm- on the left breast. Delaware had to leave that family because her father was granted custody for two weeks before getting another DUI. It was to prove that she’d always have a residence there if she wanted to go back, and even though she’d fought for that family again, the social worker said no.

It didn’t take Delaware long to unpack her clothes and the few sketchbooks, reading books, and shoes she’d brought. Liz was still busying herself to make sure the corners of Delaware’s bed were tucked with love. She wiped her hands on her blue jeans after tucking the corners and looked over how Delaware placed things. All the books she owned on the box shelves underneath the windowsill, a pair of black Converse on top, and the closet closed quietly behind her.

“Would you like to meet the boys? They look like they bite, but in reality, I’ll kick their butts.”

Delaware giggled with her hand covering her crooked teeth. “Sure.”

Liz leads her down the carpeted stairs and into the lounge. Her sons, all four of them were playing Fifa on the flatscreen and the voices of Calum Hood and Michael Clifford were coming out of Luke and Ben’s phones on the coffee table.

Liz and Andrew have two living rooms- one where the boys play their video games and hang out with their friends, and the one where Liz and Andrew can watch TV in peace, without listening to the constant bickering of four boys arguing over who gets to control the remote. A lot of times, the boys will take up every inch of space on top of their leather couch, and one of them will have to plant his butt on the hardwood, just to watch TV with their parents. Liz finds humor when Luke and Ashton have to argue over who gets to sit on the floor and who gets to sit on the couch, and the occasion Ashton sitting on top of Luke and crushing him.

“Sup, mom,” Ashton greets Liz, looking over his shoulder at her. Just an attempt to get on her good side after refusing to clean his room.

“Hey! Mom!” Calum screams through Luke’s phone. “What’s up! I gotta’ come over for dinner, right? Because you love me more than Mike?”

“Hell no, Calum!” Michael screams in Ben’s phone, overhearing Calum’s convincing plea to Liz. “Mom, you love me, right? Like, more than Jack, obviously, but you’ll give me the pizza instead of Cal? I’m really hungry over here and my mom hasn’t fed me today and-”

“-Don’t guilt-trip her Michael Gordon!” Calum interrupts. They start to bicker over who will get pizza from Liz. It’s not like they have to ask anymore- they can show up unannounced and she’ll fill their bellies as if they were her other children. Except, she kind of prefers Ashton over all of them- he’s the one she chose.

“Anyways,” Liz ignored the boys arguing through speakerphones, speaking low enough for her sons to hear her. “Della, that’s Luke, and over there is Jack -he’s the oldest so he won’t bother you much-, and that’s Ben, and he’s Ashton.” Delaware follows Liz’s finger from a boy in a black tank top and a quiff that reaches the ceiling, to one with a hoodie covering his head and staring right at her, to the one that looks like a replica of the hoodie boy, to one that seems to be apart of the brotherly bunch with a few different facial features. “This is Della. Be nice or I’ll hit you all.” Liz wags her finger threateningly to her sons. They all drop their controllers and put their hands up in surrender. “That’s what I thought. Tell Michael and Calum that I will give them both pizza if they just shut up.”

“Got it!” The arguing boys confirm at the same time.

“I’m putting on pants right now, Mom, and I’ll be there in five minutes!” Calum screams. He ends the call before Liz has a moment to tell him that they have company. She drops her head into her hands.

“Hell no! I’ll fucking get over there before him, Mom! Bet my ass-”

“-Michael!” Liz screams. She grabs onto Delaware’s hand to lead the short girl into the other living room to meet Andrew.

“What?”

“Language!” She turns to Delaware. “They’re Michael and Calum.”

“The only reason we put up with them is because of Luke,” Jack yelled over his shoulder.

Luke shoves his older brother. “Liar! You brought Calum around here when you were trying to get with Mali-Koa!” Liz pretended to not hear her youngest and continued to lead her new favorite kid through the house.

“So your name is Della?” Michael Clifford asked through a mouthful of pepperoni pizza and Pepsi. Jack knocked on the younger boys’ head when he walked past his spot at the table, grimacing at Michaels’ poor table manners. Michael flipped Jack off in response, so Jack puffed his chest out quickly to make Michael flinch. “Jesus Christ, dude! Calm your tits.”

“Yes, my name is Della,” Delaware answered. Her nimble fingers picked at the slice of cheese pizza she’d picked straight from the box and set on a napkin, and still hasn’t taken a bite from. She pulls small pieces off the crust and lays the bread in her mouth, rather than taking bites. With different foster families, she had to learn quickly that you let everybody else fill up on food before taking seconds. She’s had one family that starved her for two days because she took seconds, so one of the biological children didn’t get to take an entire serving for lunch the next day.

“Like Delaware?” Michael swallowed his pizza to avoid another slap from Jack. One thing Jack Hemmings hates about still living at home is his little brothers’ friends constantly playing video games, eating food, or just lounging around the house. He avoids bringing his friends home in embarrassment that Michael will be standing among the dining room table, in just his underwear … again. “How weird would that be? Naming your kid Delaware. Like could you imagine naming your kid Delaware,” laughed Michael. He prepared to shove the rest of his slice into his mouth. “I’m going to name my kid Kansas. That’s a cool name.” He shoves the rest of it into his mouth, stuffing the crust past his stretched-out lips and practically down his throat. “I should write a song called Pizza!”

Delaware stared at the atrocity happening at the table. “Gross.”

“This shit is normal,” replied Ben. They’d run out of chairs, not taking into consideration that Delaware would be joining them. Rather than getting out another chair for her, Ben gave up his and sat his butt on the round wood. Liz barely walked in before turning straight out of the dining room. She’d given up on it all. “Isn’t your name Delaware? Like, Mom told us to call you Della, but your real name is Delaware?”

Delaware took her stare from Michael and turned it to her napkin. Her cheeks and ears were beginning to burn a dark shade of red. “Yeah,”

“Wait what?” Michael said, choking down the carbs in his mouth. “Your parents named you Delaware? Like the state?”

“Shut up, Michael,” Calum slaps Micahel’s arm, resulting in a high pitched whine from the blond fringe sitting next to him. “Your middle name is literally Gordon!”

“Your middle name is literally Gordon!” Michael mocks in a high pitched, girly voice. “Whatever, Thomas.” He flicks Calum’s ear. “What’s your middle name, Delaware? Is it Boston?”

Delaware doesn’t look up from her food. She just stares at it and ignores Calum and Michael’s argument over whether or not Boston is in Delaware or New York, ignoring Luke’s gripes that it’s in Massachusetts and that they’re both idiots. Delaware picks at the crust of her pizza again, but she doesn’t place any of it in her mouth. Her poorly-manicured hands just shred the crust into tiny pieces until she physically can’t tear them anymore. She jumps when she feels a nudge in her ribs.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to eat pizza, man,” Ashton laughs, taking a small bite of a cheese breadstick. Delaware doesn’t understand what he’s meaning; desiring more information about what he’s inferring, she just stares at him. She’s not putting anything into her mouth, so why would that make any sense. “You’re supposed to actually eat it, Della. You’re not a freak and can’t like … eat, right? We have a blender if-”

“-I can eat. I’m just not hungry.” She wanted to say his name, to amend the sentence, just in case somebody thinks she’s talking to herself. She’s never been around so many people at once, sitting at a single dinner table and not tied down into a seat and listening to chewing the scraping of forks against plates. Most foster homes she’s been to, you sit, you eat, and you don’t speak. You eat with their parents, sit next to your 'siblings’, and finish your plate by the time you leave the table. Delaware wonders if people that don’t finish their plates -actually, napkins- of pizza will hand off to Michael and he’ll be a human garbage disposal.

“Wanna know a funny story? Luke wanted caramel popcorn this morning and he put maple syrup on buttered-”

“-Ashton I swear if you finish that story, I’ll finish you,” Luke warned with a smile on his face, distracting from the pizza sauce on his cheek. Jack grabbed the bottom of Luke’s shirt and tore it up to Luke’s face to wipe the sauce from his oblivious brother. Luke swatted his brothers’ hand away from his face, and smack Jack’s forehead. These boys seem to be really into fighting.

“That is one weird daddy kink, Luke”

With wide eyes, Delaware stood from the table and turned on her heels to face the staircase just feet away. She sprang towards the stairs, not wanting to know the rest of what the bumbling idiots have to say. That’s just one weird conversation, especially for brothers. How in the world does Liz put up with all of this?

Of course, only the Delaware Williams would end up suspended on her first day of school. She’d asked Michael three times to stop calling her Delaware and to call her Della as everybody else had been, and he continued, saying it was her first name so that’s what she shall be called. She turned around and slapped him- didn’t even leave a mark, just stunned him for a few moments. Liz decided that Delaware shall serve her detention sentence, finish her suspension, and would be okay. She’d asked Michael to stop, but if she does it again then she’ll get in trouble at home.

Delaware was so thankful for the Hemmings taking her in, and not treating her like a criminal for something she didn’t even have time to think about doing. Though, she felt like she was a terrible person and a disgrace to everyone around her. She sat down in detention silently, sitting next to a girl with long dark hair, and plugged in headphones.

It only took a few seconds before she was pelted in the back of her head with a ball of paper. She whipped around to the girl with dark hair and shot her an angry look. “What?”

“Nothing,” the girl smiled and laughed a little bit. “Just wondering what little miss princess is doing in detention. Don’t you know, Luke, Ben, and Jack haven’t gotten single detention in their lives. Now, what’re you going to do?”

“Sacrifice children,” Delaware answered before rolling her eyes and laying her head on the desk. “Who even are you? Why do you know me?”

The girl smiled. “I’m Calum’s big sister, Mali-Koa. But, you’re the talk of the school. Now tell me, did you really give Michael Clifford a shiner like everyone says you did?”

Delaware rolled her eyes at Mali-Koa. Still, she didn’t reply verbally, just a little bit pissed off. She shoved her earbuds back into her ears, but Mali-Koa snatched one of them away. “What do you want?!” Delaware screamed.

Mali-Koa laughed. “You’re a blonde-haired beauty, and you’re listening to Slipknot? What the fuck?”

Delaware grabbed her earbud from the older girl. “Yeah, I know. I need a fucking makeover. Are you done now?”

Mali-Koa’s grin dropped into an actual smile. One that kind of frightened Delaware- the one that you see when someone has a good idea, rather than a sadistic one. She’s used to seeing people with sadistic smiles, ready to destroy everyone around her. She didn’t know people could actually be genuine. “Are you serious about needing a makeover? I’m studying cosmetology. I’d be willing to help.”

Delaware sat up. She noted how Mali-Koa’s got dark eyes that seem as if she put contacts in to darken them. Underneath sunlight, Delaware wonders, they’d probably be a beautiful shade of brown turning into pools of honey. She wishes she’d have an eye color that cool. She’s been stuck with a basic forest green that she’d never been taught to appreciate. “Are you being deadass?”

“Why not?”

“How do I know I can trust you to not completely fuck me up?”

“C'mon, I look like Calum. And Calum wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Fine, when?”

“When detention gets out, sweetheart,”

They barely stopped at the store, picking up a two-dollar box of a natural-colored hair dye so Delaware wouldn’t be forced to dye her hair back just because their school doesn’t allow odd colored hair. She opted for a boxed black, ready to no longer be a bleach blonde her ex-foster mother forced her to be. She’d sit her down in only a sports bra and shorts, and would bleach every part of Delaware’s hair with extra strength bleach so she’d fit in with their family. She never did.

Delaware drug Mali-Koa up the stairs, feeling the boots of her brand-new school uniform creating blisters on her feet as she hopped two steps at a time. Liz laughed and asked what they were going to do. Noting the hair shears shining through the plastic bag is Delaware’s hand, she figured somebody was going to have a change.

That happened with a lot of the foster kids she’d gotten. Originally, Ashton had a long fringe, and when Liz took him to get a haircut for school, he cut it all off and let his curls grow out the way he liked. She smiled, fit him in the family Christmas photos, and even helped him keep his curls healthy. Liz just wanted to love all of the children that came into her life and support their logical decisions. Her mission with Delaware includes letting her know that people love her, and she’s not as lonely as everyone’s made her think.

“Your daughter is getting a makeover!” Mali-Koa laughed and followed Delaware into the bathroom she shares with Luke and Ashton. Ben and Jack have bedrooms in the basement, creating their own space for their college-manliness instead of video games, stuffed penguins, and Cheetos. They both closed the bathroom door and locked it. Delaware glowed after hearing Liz tell them to have fun instead of letting Mali-Koa know that Delaware technically isn’t her daughter. Mali-Koa found it precious. “How short do you want your hair?”

Delaware stripped off her polo shirt so she’d be in only her undershirt and skirt, and not get little particles of hair and hair dye on the expensive fabric. She threw the polo into a laundry basket full of men’s pajama pants and the shorts she’d changed out of that morning. Her fingers grabbed the ends of her dead hair, sliding her thumb over all the split ends and rotten strands. “You think I’d look cute with it to my shoulders? And like, bangs too?”

Mali-Koa envisioned Delaware with bangs and short hair. She has a small forehead, meaning that her bangs would be very short and look a little bit odd. With short hair, though, her face would look slimmer and angular, and you’d be able to see the skin tearing itself on her collarbones a lot more. She wouldn’t be able to hide the birthmarks behind her ear and along the top of her spine and the tattoo she pretended to never get right above her left breast. “I think you’d look great, but the bangs … not so much.”

“Then just cut it, man, cut as much as you think needs to be cut.”

Mali-Koa sectioned Delaware’s hair into two sections with hair ties showing where to place the scissors. Delaware closed her eyes and listened for the sound of hair shattering in half, and when she heard it, she felt like a million pounds had been lifted off of her shoulders. Her eyes opened wide when Mali-Koa told her to open, and she was surprised by her looks.

After being a young child, she wasn’t allowed to cut off her hair. Whenever her biological mother or biological father had met her foster family, they’d told them to have her hair grow as long as they could manage, because otherwise, she’d look ugly. They all went along with her parents’ requests and ignored Delaware’s pleads for short hair that she wouldn’t spend countless hours taking care of. They all just wanted to please her family, instead of pleasing her.

“Do you like it?” Mali-Koa asked Delaware after feathering out some layers of her hair and brushing the little pieces of hair off her shoulders. Delaware’s eyes were as wide as green saucers as she nodded her head. She couldn’t speak out of amazement that she went along with cutting her hair off and that she liked it. “Ready to dye it?”

They dyed her hair black, shoved a sewing needle through her septum in an attempt to open the piercing she’d had previously -and it worked but with a lot of blood, did charcoal face masks together, put a lipstick on Delaware’s lips, lined her eyes with eyeliner, and Mali-Koa had Delaware take out her contacts and put her round-framed glasses on instead. Delaware couldn’t recognize herself, couldn’t remember who she was besides a blonde girl with no taste in boys. Mali-Koa watched Delaware stare at herself in the bathroom mirror, watching in amazement and humming along with Jaymes Young. Delaware smiled, and so did Mali-Koa.

Luke pounds his fist on Delaware’s white wooden door, trying to capture her attention. “Della!” Luke yells out, still pounding the side of his hand against the wood. “I heard that you have Cal’s sister! We need her!” From behind the door, Delaware and Mali-Koa giggle at Luke’s yelling and a video they’re both watching on Mali-Koa’s phone. One thing that Delaware still doesn’t have- a phone. But she doesn’t mind. It just means that she doesn’t have to deal with people’s drama and manipulation of text messages. “Della!” Luke drags out.

Delaware decides to finally open the door up, running a hand through her hair. “What?” She demands, opening the door wide for Luke to see her and her new friend. She adjusts the uncomfortable septum ring in her nose just a little bit. Surprisingly, Liz didn’t mind Delaware repiercing through her septum, breaking the scar tissue open from a few years ago. Luke has a lip piercing, and Jack and Ben got their ears pierced on a bet together not long before Delaware arrived, so she’d given up on the no piercings rule.

Luke lets out a high pitched scream. “What did you do with my sister, holy shit!” From downstairs, they could hear Liz stammering about Luke’s language. Luke stares at Delaware with wide eyes, not realizing he’s even staring. “What did you do to her, Hood?”

“What do you want, Hemmings?” Mali-Koa sits up from Delaware’s bed and makes her way to the boy in the doorway, holding a comb and a pair of kitchen scissors in one hand near his face. She grabs both of them out of his hand but has to pry his fingers away.

“Michael wants his hair cut, and I fucked it up so I was … ” Luk’s distracted by Delaware moving around the ring in her nose. She stares back at him angrily. “You look so weird. Like … what the fuck? What the hell did you do with my sister?”

“I gave her a makeover,” Mali-Koa shoves Luke away from staring at Delaware, pushing him fully into the hallway. She shoves past him and towards his bedroom. “I swear if you messed up Michael’s hair, then you’re paying. And if you touched Calum’s-”

“-Ugh, I didn’t touch Calums! Just fix Michaels, please!” Luke looks back at Delaware just standing in the doorway, watching Mali-Koa walk down the hallway and shoving herself into Luke’s room. “Aren’t you coming?” Luke asks. Delaware looks at him in surprise, wondering why he’s calling her his sister, why he’s asking if she’s coming with them to fix Michael’s hair, and why he’s just… being so calm. It dawns on her that he’s being so calm and collected, but still freaking out over his new little sister cutting off her hair, is because he thinks of her as family.

Delaware bites down on her lip. “Of course,” she follows Luke to his bedroom.

The view there is horrendous; clothes were strewn everywhere, Michael’s fringe all over the floor, dishware and cups left on Luke’s desk for whatever reason, and messy cords littering his entire TV set up for a gaming system. Michael, though, was just sitting on a dining room chair, with a towel tied around his neck, a caramel apple in one hand, his phone in the other, and half of his fringe cut in the wrong direction.

“Della, can you go get the hair scissors?” Mali-Koa requests then hand the kitchen sheers to Delaware. Delaware nods her head and leaves the room.

“Holy shit, that’s Delawa- ow!” Michael screams loud enough for Delaware to hear when putting the kitchen shears into the sink. She giggles a little bit at whatever must’ve struck Michael and feels a sense of belongingness at their protection of her. “Calum Hood I swear to God I will not hesitate!” Delaware slides past Liz at the stovetop, starting a dinner of chicken, and hops up the stairs.

“Remember, he’s ticklish!” Liz calls after her new daughter. Delaware confirms that she heard and runs back into Luke’s room, almost landing inside of Ashton’s just before Lukes, then handing Mali-Koa the proper scissors.

“Now, Micahel, what do we call her?” Mali-Koa threatens, holding Michael’s caramel apple in her nondominant hand. Michae looks back at her scared. One hand, with the caramel apple he’s about to cry over, and the other hand with a sharp pair of scissors, and a face full of determination. He should really answer this question correctly. “Michael? What do we call Luke’s little sister?”

“We call her Della,” Michael mumbles, holding onto his biceps. “Not Delaware because she doesn’t like Delaware. She likes Della.”

“Exactly,” Mali-Koa says as if she’s talking to a small child. She hands Micahel his caramel apple back and he takes a huge bite of the sticky fruit. “Now, what do we not let Luke, Ashton, and Calum do?”

“We don’t let them cut my hair because they’re stupid fuckers that can’t cut a straight fucking line!” Michael flips off the group of boys sitting on Luke’s bed.

“Shut up, you’re not even straight!” Ashton whines, feeling offended at what Michael and Mali-Koa are agreeing on. Nobody knows if Michael if straight, bi, gay, or whatever other sexuality he’s questioned upon himself. The week before he started high school, he’d called Luke crying because he thought he was only attracted to witches. They all put it off to the fact he’d stayed up three days straight watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone over and over again, trying to memorize the entire movie. He doesn’t even remember calling Luke that day.

“Suck my dick, Irwin,” Michael bit into his caramel apple again, basically breaking his jaw. “I want to buy a onesie, but I don’t know if it’ll suit me.”

Mali-Koa halted attempting to section off her younger friends’ hair correctly to give him a soft rasp upside his head. “You’re an idiot.” Mali-Koa started feathering out the long strands to match the shorter ones the boys created and tried to match their cutting style. His fringe would be fine… but he doesn’t have to know that. “Yeah, dude, I’m going to give you a quiff.”

“What? No! I don’t want to be gay like Luke!”

“Oh shut up, Gordon!” Luke whined.

“That brings me back to something,” Michael chews the sticky caramel stuck in his teeth and shoots an uncharming smile towards Delaware. “What’s your middle name? Is it Boston?”

“Boston is in Massachusetts, you fucking idiot!”

“Well, let Delaw- Della answer us. Is your middle name Boston?”

Delaware shook her head, laughing as she did so. “I can promise you that my middle name is not Boston.” Delaware tucked a few strands of hair behind her head, coming out of her shell just a little bit. “I think we should change yours though. I hear Carol is really pretty.”

“Oh hell no!”

“Michael, you are yelling!” Ashton informs Michael, using a hand gesture commanding that he brings his volume down just a bit so they don’t have premature hearing loss. “We could change it to Mary. I used to know a Mary- she played the piano.”

“I don’t play the piano, idiot, I play the guitar,” Michael wiped his mouth quickly to remove the sticky sugar, and just like Luke the night before, he had it on his cheek. “You guys make no sense. You’re all supporting 'we should all be unique together!’ and it turns out that we’re all the same. My middle name is cooler than all your stupid ones, so suck my dick and choke on it.”

“Language!” Liz screams, barely hearing Michael.

“Sorry, Mommy!” Michael screams back. “I am Gordon. And I am so much cooler than all of you!” Mali-Koa had to hold Michael’s head in place when she continued snipping the ends of his hair. “What type of person looks at an almond and thinks, 'Look at those titties’?”

“Does that mean that you look at a cow and you think 'Look at those titties’?” asked Ashton.

“Yes,” Michael answered. “Because you’re the cow.”

Ashton picked a ball of socks from the floor and threw them at Michael. “You look like a fish.”

“You are a fish, bitch,”

“I thought I was a cow?”

“You’re the whole zoo. Thick as hell,”

“Only for you,”

Delaware pointed towards Ashton and Michael, conversing over… God knows what and looked at Luke. Knowing what she was asking, he shook his head. But still, she’s convinced that the two of them are dating somehow.

Delaware ripped open her door. “Benjamin Hemmings if you don’t give me my bra back I swear to God!” She ran after Ben, supporting hot pink A cups over his One Direction shirt- both stolen from Delaware. Her feet hammered against the ground.

“Delaware Williams if you don’t shut up!” Ben mocked, running away from his little sister. She followed him down the hallway, past the kitchen, and into the living room where they’d argue in front of a sleeping Liz and a tired Andrew. “Give me my headphones back!”

Delaware held up Ben’s earbuds with a pair of scissors threatening to end its life. “I won’t hesitate! Take off my bra!”

“Woah!” Andrew called out in an attempt to calm the boiling situation. Both teenagers turned their attention towards the stretching man, scared for a punishment. Andrew just couldn’t comprehend the scene in his living room without busting out laughing fits. His nineteen-year-old son, standing in his daughters’ bra. Lovely. “What the hell is going on? Why are you… ” Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you wearing a bra?”

“Because I want to be beautiful, Dad!” Ben replied with a sassy snap at the end of his sentence.

Andrew sighed. “Give Della her bra back. Della, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the Homecoming game?”

Della looks to the side and drops the headphones/scissors mix to the floor. “Maybe.” She touched the curls that Mali-Koa’s pinned to the back of her head. Just half of them are ready, and she still has to wait on the other half. Della wasn’t excited for the homecoming game, though. Yes, she’d been elected for the homecoming queen, but she still wasn’t too thrilled about standing in the rainy wind for half an hour while her heart breaks over losing. “Can’t I just skip it? It’s not like Luke was elected so everybody doesn’t need to go and with nobody there for me-”

“Delaware Williams, we are all going, and so are you. Go finish getting ready before I kick you,”

Delaware retreated to her bedroom, carrying her hot pink bra in her right hand, and continued with Mali-Koa’s hair violations. Curling irons, hair gel, hair spray, hairpins, tiny rubber bands, and the occasional clip-in flower was stuck to Delaware’s scalp and she flinched at the feeling. Mali-Koa braided two sections halfway down Delaware’s hair before tying them off and curling any pieces she could manage. She took as long as she possibly could to make the perfect hairstyle, and after two months of being best friends, Delaware appreciated Mali-Koa being there for her.

“Dude, do I have to cover my tattoo?” Delaware asked, staring at her reflection in only a strapless bra and spandex. She pointed to the baby handprint in a bed of sunflowers right above her left breast that her best friend’s mom tattooed on her underage skin last year. Delaware’s biological mother had a daughter before Delaware, but she hadn’t survived after several complications with their mothers’ pregnancy and died just a few hours after birth. The girl, Adelaide, took her last breath and placed her hand right above her mothers’ breast, where Delaware eventually got a tattoo of her handprint.

“Yeah,” Mali-Koa sighed before pulling a bottle of foundation from her makeup box. “Lay down, it’ll be easier.”

Mali-Koa worked quickly on blending the tattoo away underneath a pile of foundation and powder. Her purple beauty blender pound into Delaware’s skin, hitting a sensitive nerve she didn’t realize existed, causing Delaware to flinch. Mali-Koa laughs and slathered a layer of powder above the drying foundation and relished in the fact it was hidden. However, Delaware looked like a completely different person without solid black lines and yellow shading taking up her skin.

A knock on Delaware’s door interrupted her confusion about how different Delaware looked. “Password?” Delaware asked, sitting up and pulling a shirt in front of her boobs.

“Luke sucks balls,” Michael replied and opened the door. Not the proper password- but it’ll manage. “Your mom says your report card is in and you’re in trouble and holy shit you’re shirtless.”

“Thanks, Einstein,” Delaware replied. She and Michael locked eyes for a few minutes. “Can you leave now? I’ll be downstairs when I get into my dress.”

Mali-Koa ended up pushing the staring boy out of Delaware’s room so she could dress in the apparel. A dress she regretted even buying- luckily, it was cheap. A two-piece dress with a strapless black floral top, and a black flowy skirt that ended mid-thigh, and started above her belly button. She looked gorgeous, obviously, but Michael managed to have a staring problem again when she walked down the stairs. Luke smacked the side of Michael’s head.

Liz had agreed with Delaware that she’d sign the paper for Delaware to become a cheerleader, as long as Delaware had good grades at the end of the grading quarter, unlike Luke and Michael. Delaware gladly agreed, especially after trying out for cheerleading, and worked her small butt off to achieve her short term dream. Every time she went to a foster house, she’d have one request: to be put in dance classes or some sort of physical labor including costumes and smiles. Liz would oblige as long as Delaware continued with school work and chores, bettering herself for a nice future.

Delaware skipped towards Liz and grabbed the document with her name on it to read the grades. They were all exceptional- 100s in every class, and extra credit in most. She’d talked to her teachers about finishing her tenth-grade year in one semester, and starting her eleventh in the next. They drew up worksheets, made after school lesson plans and attached them to a flash drive that she’d learn off of. But, she did it. Finished half of her tenth-grade year in a quarter, and amazed her foster parents beyond extreme. Luke was just barely passing the classes she’d been excelling in, and Ashton was scraping by his twelfth-grade year with D’s and C’s.

“So, does that mean I get to be a basketball cheerleader?” Delaware asked with a hopeful tone, handing Liz the paper again. Liz smiled and continued looking it over. Her grades were amazing, she went to school every day and never skipped class, she’d been a teacher’s pet too. Originally, she’d started her school year with an F in biology and no determination to get it up. Then she learned about cheerleading, made the deal with Liz, and had it up to an A in twenty-four hours. “Please, please, please, Mom!”

Liz shook her head jokingly and looked to Delaware. She was glowing; a beautiful girl with a highlight on her cheekbones and hair pulled back delicately. “Give me the paper and I’ll sign it.”

Delaware squealed, jumped in the air, and wrapped her arms around Liz’s neck. Happiness and excitement were radiating off her bones and blinding everyone in the house. Even Calum, playing video games down the street while he’s supposed to be in football practice could feel her excitement. “Thank you so much! This means everything to me!”

“Just don’t fall behind in your studies, okay?”

“Got it.”

Liz signed on the dotted line, and Delaware almost ruined her makeup with tears.

Delaware shivered and waited for the ceremony to start. She began regretting not taking Luke up on the offer of his letterman jacket but cuddled into her best friend Calum’s side instead. He’s a football player, in their ugly gold and black uniforms, and his large letterman jacket. He wrapped her inside of the fabric and shivered with her. A long speech from the announcing lady made them both groan in unison while she continued blabbering on and on until every homecoming candidate was frozen.

Finally, she told everyone she’d begin announcing. Mali-Koa was nominated for the senior homecoming queen alongside a boy Delaware didn’t know. The boys’ little sister, Florine Knapp, was nominated alongside Michael for the junior king and queen. Calum and Delaware were for the sophomores, and freshmen candidates failed to show up. Less competition, honestly.

The homecoming floats were ugly and faulty. The football field was soaked through and would create a muddy Calum Hood. Everybody outside was freezing underneath mountains of blankets. It just wasn’t turning into a good last football game for their town. Delaware was completely unimpressed but still walked to the track when her name was called.

“Delaware Williams, foster child to Liz and Andrew Hemmings, foster sister to Luke, Ben, and Jack Hemmings, future basketball cheerleader, and scholar,” The lady stated, causing Delaware to bite her tongue. In their house, you don’t throw around the word 'foster’. It’s all or nothing, even when it comes to talking about genetics. Delaware feels like if she could, she’d turn into a Hemmings instead of a Williams, just to feel apart of a family that loved her. That obviously loved her. Another thing, you don’t leave out Ashton. Ashton is just as much of a Hemmings as the boys, and Delaware. “She’s accompanied by Calum Hood,” and the list went on. “And our homecoming queen and king are,” a drumroll from the marching band started. “Delaware Williams and Michael Clifford,”

How the hell did I manage that? Delaware wanted to scream out.

She stepped forward, closer to Michael Clifford in a tacky suit and harder hair than normal, and took his hand in her own. Thick rings dug into the skin between her fingers, and the ring with Delaware’s birthstone sat a little crooked on her middle finger and dug into his. It was a mutual thing; ruining each other’s fingers with rings. Delaware smiled and stepped closer to him so they’d stand together and receive their crowns. Delaware smiled, waited for Liz and Andrew to snap photos, then kissed Michael on the cheek.

Yeah, she could get over being called Delaware all the time, but now it's just an attempt at embarrassing him in front of the bleachers full of school supporters. Michael blushed and tried to hide his face behind his other hand, but Delaware grabbed it away from him. Michael giggled, and walked her off the field, to their positions as King and Queen of the New Broken Scene.

“Give me my burrito!” Delaware squealed, grabbing the tinfoil out of Michael’s hands, having to climb a little bit to grab it from above his head. Michael laughed, pulling it further away from the beautiful girl across the booth, but ended up throwing it onto her plate. “You’re a whore, you know that right?”

“Hoe,” Michael corrected. “I’m a hoe for any and everybody. Sleeping with sirens and piercing veils, babygirl,”

“Just kidding. You’re stupid,” After ditching their homecoming dance, they walked in the rain to an indoor mini-golf arena, playing a few games before skipping to the local Mexican restaurant for delicious food. Liz laughed when Delaware told her she wouldn’t be at the homecoming dance, and to tell Jack to not wait to pick her up. They all guessed she’d find ways around the dark gymnasium with sweaty kids and two smoke machines; she’s just not that type of person.

Michael opened his straw partly and shot the plastic-wrapped at Delaware’s nose, causing her to flinch just a little bit. She balled it up quickly and threw it back at him. “Hey!” Delaware yipped when a plastic fork hit her in the boob. “I swear I’ll get Ben to beat you up.” She slipped off Jack’s letterman jacket as to not cover it in food.

After complaining of being cold, Mali-Koa stole Calum’s jacket from him, leaving Delaware without anything to cover her reddening arms. Her limbs were beginning to go numb. Jack ran home quickly, dug around in the basement, and pulled his old letterman jacket from a box he’d forgotten about. He handed it to Delaware and told her to use it as long as she’d like- even if it meant forever. Hemmings it across the back of the golden fabric, with letters for several different sports and manager pins. She was amazed at how it fit her just a little too big but still looked nice on her. She sat atop Michael’s shoulders, watched the game underneath a large jacket, and took photos with all of the boys as much as possible. It was a night she’d remember forever.

“What’s your tattoo of?” Michael asked, pointing to the black lines starting to peek through the foundation. He took a huge bite of his soft taco.

“It’s my sisters’ handprint when she was born,” Delaware dismissed before digging into her food as well. It tasted like the perfect burrito; meat, rice, beans, queso, avocado, and whatever the hell else was added. She was in love with a two-dollar burrito that was made in minutes. Nobody could ever top that burrito.

“Was she in foster care like you?”

Delaware went silent. She didn’t have an answer. How do you tell someone that your sister is dead? How would you answer that question if she was alive- yes, she is in foster care like I am but we were split up because the system is bullshit. Or- no, she isn’t because our parents actually wanted her or she was adopted quickly because she’s perfect. Even though she’s quite open about foster care, it can still be a somewhat touchy subject for her.

“Della?”

“No,” Delaware answered quickly. She didn’t want to reply, she didn’t want to think, she just wanted to relish at the moment she was given. Tacos in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a boy that was nominated homecoming king, while she was the queen. She was nominated for homecoming queen after years of being bullied, and she had a huge crowd cheering her on, taking photos of her making cute faces next to her brothers, and two adults claiming her as their child. She had a family that loves her, one that bought her a phone and helped her sign up for cheerleading. One that doesn’t want to give her up when the time comes. “So your middle name is Gordon, right?”

“Yeah. What’s yours? Boston?”

“I’ve told you several times! It’s not Boston!”

“Then you have to tell me it,” Michael says before taking a long gulp of soda. “It’s the law.”

Delaware chews her burrito and swallows before answers. “You have to guess the letter it starts with.”

“It’s either M or N,” replies Michael. Delaware is stunned- he’s right.

“How do you know that?”

“Because, D is four letters from the beginning of the alphabet, and W is four letters from the end. M and N are equal distances between the two.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because,” Michael says. “I got bored in chemistry today. Basic knowledge, you know.” Delaware stared at him in amazement. “So am I right?”

“You’re spot on,” Delaware’s mouth hung open. How had she never put two and two together? Also, her biological parents are idiots. “It’s May-Nova.”

“Delaware May-Nova Williams?” Michael asked. He didn’t wait for a reply. “Your parents must have really hate you.”

Delaware continued staring, not knowing how to answer. Yes, they did. That’s why I’m in foster care. Or, no, they didn’t. They’re just idiots.

They ate their food, conversing over Delaware’s odd name, Michael’s stupid middle name, and the fact that Mexican food will forever be Delaware’s first and only love. At the end of their meal, Delaware got Jack on the phone for a ride home in the rain, rather than walking. He obliged and drove to them quickly instead of partying as he’d planned. Delaware jumped into the shower the moment she walked through the door, pulling pins from her hair and forcing Luke to unzip her dress.

“Mali-Koa Hood, get your ass up here now!” Delaware screamed out, entering her room in only a towel, and ready to watch sappy movies and talk with her best friend. “Mali!”

“She’s at the dance!” Michael yelled back.

“Language, Della!” Liz screamed, wishing to break the habit of her children cussing constantly. She’ll do it, you know. She’ll end the cussing eventually.

“Then somebody get up here and watch movies with me!” She locked her door, though, before a stampede of teenage boys killed her while she’s naked. She slipped into Nike shorts and a random shirt she didn’t realize she owned before opening her bedroom to her male friends waiting for her casually. “Is there something you’d like?”

“You said Disney movies,” Calum mentions, motioning to her TV sitting on the black desk. It’s small, but it suffices.

“I did not say Disney movies,”

“More importantly you said Lilo and Stitch,” Michael states, eyeing her hand-me-down XBOX. Luke gave it to her because he’d gotten a new one for his birthday before she’d arrived, and now she can play video games with Calum, Micahel, Ashton, and Luke without having to sit in somebody else’s room.

“I did not say Lilo and Stitch,”

“And you also said popsicles,” Ashton laughs.

“I didn’t say popsicles but if you brought me a red popsicle-” Ashton hands over a red popsicle he knows she loves. He’s studied that she’s the only one eating them, devouring them in moments of the first taste. All of the others aren’t too fond of them, but she’s a cherry fiend. “-I love you forever.”

“So Lilo and Stitch?” Michael asks.

“Yeah, no,”

“What about The Emperor's New Groove?”

“No,”

“On The Road To El Dorado?”

“You have to have the password.”

“It’s Luke sucks balls,”

“You’re absolutely correct. Grab a blanket, homies,”

Calum, Ashton, Michael, Luke, and Delaware all fit on her twin bed, laying on top of one another, but paying attention to the TV with such intent they forgot that they had a pizza in the oven. Michael cried when Liz informed them that the pizza was burnt- he didn’t know it was in the oven, but a burnt pizza broke his heart. Delaware fell asleep on the makeshift bed Michael and Calum had created out of their bodies to make her comfortable. It was just a good night for her.

For their first basketball game, Michael and Delaware agreed upon wearing matching spirit clothes, supporting their schools’ black-out game. They obviously had to wear the given black polo required, but they paid five bucks to wear jeans that Tuesday. On days of games with themed student sections, you’re allowed to pay for different trousers, as long as they’re appropriate. Michael and Delaware stayed up late, listening to GreenDay on the sound system Delaware was borrowing from Luke, and created patterns on ripped skinny jeans with neon paint. The class with the most supporters in the student section wins frozen yogurt during lunch the next day.

Liz took pictures of Delaware and her friends, almost causing the brunette to be late to school. The typical photo of Delaware sitting on Luke’s shoulders, leaning against Michael’s front with their arms woven together, and the weird poses Calum and Ashton thought up on the spot. Michael and Delaware also colored their friends’ skinny jeans and paid off their debt to the administration. Delaware would have tons of photos to reflect on whenever she leaves the Hemmings house, and it breaks her heart to think that eventually, she’ll have to leave the best friends that she'll ever have.

Michael and Delaware kicked their legs up onto their uncomfortable desks to show off the jeans. Delaware stared back at Ashton, Calum, and Luke sitting a row behind the pair. Luke sighed and copied them before Calum and Ashton replicated them too.

“Thank you,” Delaware shook her head. “Rude, am I right?”

“Downright disrespectful,” Michael answered.

In her small cheer uniform, Delaware waved at the crowd gathered for the basketball game, more specifically her family. Liz and Andrew snapped even more photos of her. She’s a flyer, meaning that she’s thrown into the air a lot, and had to ask Liz to pull her hair back into double dutch braids. Though, Michael kept drooling during the basketball game and couldn’t focus on the fact he’s supposed to be dribbling a ball, not staring at the cheerleaders.

“Clifford,” His coach called, pulling him from the game and sitting his butt on the bench.

Michael didn’t mind- even more of a chance to stare at Delaware. Her cheer uniform was long-sleeved, covered her from her knees to her neck, disregarding her hands, and had gold lining along the hem. She was exactly like every other cheerleader; uniform, hair, and small golden bows tied with ribbon. But Michael knew exactly which one she was, even in a group huddle of screams and chants. He knew that she was Delaware Williams instead of some prissy cheerleader that wouldn’t talk to him. He just knew.

At the end of the game, Delaware pulled Jack’s letterman jacket on her shoulders and posed with cheerleaders wearing the same outfit she was. The only difference between all of them as she had a lot more letters than they did and the last name on the back wasn’t correct. That didn’t discourage anyone from turning every cheerleader around and taking photos of their last names. Their school takes photos like that as a promotion to families and showing off a kids’ heritage.

That means that Luke, Ben, Jack, and Ashton have photos with their last names shown off in photos. Hemmings- every single one was a Hemmings. And now, Liz had her daughter with the Hemmings name glowing in the center of the photo. She couldn’t help but immediately create a photo collage of them all together. Ashton had been a football player and a wrestler for a couple of years. Luke, Ben, and Jack were all football players with the occasional basketball season and a few track and field meets. She chose the photos of them all during tenth grade; Delaware at her first basketball game as a cheerleader, Ashton during wrestling season right after breaking his arm, Luke just a few weeks before at a football game, Jack just finishing a 3200-meter dash, and Ben when he’d gotten a concussion during a football game and kept playing with tears running down his cheeks. She smiled and showed Andrew who adored what she’d done with the photos.

“I deserve ice cream!” Delaware screamed with a fist in the air and her other hand on top of Calum’s head. It was normal for her to be sitting on their shoulders, rather than walking. Liz and Andrew occasionally worried that she would fall and break something, though. “I deserve some good oreo ice cream with white chocolate chips on top and cookie dough pieces on the inside!”

“Dude you literally ate an entire package of Oreos earlier,” Michael replied, cuddling further into his own jacket. “And like four cupcakes, and we even got hamburgers for lunch. Are you trying to die?”

“Mali-Koa and I are having a competition to see who can reach 100 pounds first,” Delaware answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It never dawned on the boys that the reason Delaware was so light, was because she’d been underweight. “I’m at eighty-eighty pounds and I’m determined to beat her!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re tiny!” Calum laughed. He unlocked the side of his car with keys in one hand, and helped Delaware off of his shoulders by practically tossing her in the air and catching her with a key in her side. “So, ice cream?”

“Please!” Delaware whined. She looked around at Liz and Andrew, searching for an answer she already knew. “Mom? Please?” Liz wanted to say no, she wanted to tell Delaware that eating too much is unhealthy, even if you’re attempting to gain weight. Delaware has a small form of lactose intolerance so a mass amount of ice cream will mess with her body, and Liz knows this. Still, she stares into Delaware’s forest-green eyes and nods her head sadly. “Yay! Where can we go? What’s good around here?”

“There’s an ice cream shop just down the road,” Michael said, pointing in the direction of a corner store he’s always wanted to try. They advertise cherry ice cream with chocolate chunks, cookie dough without salmonella, and sticky caramel apples dipped in peanuts. “My mom says they’re pretty good.”

“Wow, you have a mom?” Delaware asked, referencing the fact that Michael seems to be at the Hemmings house all the time, and never goes home. She swears he’s there when she wakes up, goes to sleep, and tries to shower at 3 AM. “What do you say? Ice cream shop? That’s what I thought.” Delaware climbs into Calum’s car without an answer, sitting in the passenger’s seat and hooking her phone up to the aux. “Come on guys! They’ll close before we get there.”

Practically everyone is wrapped around Delaware’s finger.

Michael knocked on Delaware’s bedroom door. She stood up from her bed, the room illuminated by fairy lights Mali-Koa and her had hung around the creases of the ceiling. Michael opened the door when she took forever to answer it and stared at her.

Delaware had asked Michael to come over- said that it was too dire of a situation for just Calum and way too much for any of her brothers. She needed Michael, the boy that seemingly understood her. But before he could ask her what’s wrong, she crashed into his chest, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She had given up to just listening to her hammering heart exploding in her chest, bursting her eardrums with every pop. Delaware was embarrassed- hurting, even when Michael shushed her sobs in his chest and shoved her further into her room, closing the door behind her.

“Della- shh, Della what’s wrong?” Michael asked, pulling Delaware into his lap. Normally her bed is made, pristine sheets folded at the corners and an extra blanket sat at the end of her bed with a fleece interior. Liz had made it. Now, underneath him, the sheets were messy and unruly, not even tucked between the bed and the wall, as if somebody had a fit and tried to rip the seams apart. “Delaware, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

She sobbed, let the tears roll down her cheeks and land on Michael’s black shirt. Michael didn’t care that he could feel tears pressing into his skin, or Delaware’s messy braids rubbing the underneath of his chin, or a few hiccups that erupted from her throat. Delaware tried to stay strong, to suppress the tears before they released and whisper that everything was okay. She just couldn’t. “They’re sending me back.”

“What?” Michael asked abruptly. He let go of her side to wipe his face before he started crying. There’s no way he heard that correctly- absolutely no way that she’s going back into the foster care system, away from the Hemmings family, away from him! That’s not allowed. He won’t stand for it and will go out with a fight. “Delaware?”

“I got a letter in the mail today,” Delaware hiccuped before digging her face into Michael’s chest. It hurt, so he pulled her away so she could see him. Maybe he’d be able to read her face to know that it’s a lie. Haha, he’d answer before shaking his head jokingly, of course, they are. But he couldn’t. Delaware wasn’t lying, and she certainly wasn’t going to pull a prank like this. “It says my permanent residency will be enforced the day after Christmas, and I’ll have to live with my legal guardians. Which means, I’m going back home. To my biological parents. Where I’ll die!”

Michael laid back so Delaware would have something softer to lay on besides him. But she still laid on top of his chest, wrapping her legs in his. He remembers when he made friends with different foster kids the Hemmings had. Styles- the boy with curly hair that taught Michael how to kiss a girl. Or every time Ashton’s been sent back to his mom, only to end up with Liz and Andrew once again. There’ve been more kids that broke Michael’s heart, when their parents’ decided to shape up and want them, or the ones that were too much of a hassle for their school and ended up expelled, meaning that Liz and Andrew wouldn’t be able to send them anywhere else.

Michael reached for the blanket and pulled it over both of them. Delaware began to calm down a little bit. “It’s going to be okay. Things like this can change and-”

“They don’t change, Michael! Once you’re sent back, you’re sent back until they fuck up again. My mom values being able to say she straightened up and got me too much to fuck up before I get there!” Delaware spat. Michael ran his hands through the ends of her hair and grabbed the thick hair ties to release all of her hair. She didn’t argue when he pulled the rubber bands out and combed his fingers through her soft locks. “I don’t want to go back.”

“I don’t want you to go back either, Delaware,”

Delaware was so upset, she didn’t correct him about calling her Della. She just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear for good. “I finally got a family, and now … they’re just sending me back.”

“Hey, Della,” Michael said, trying to make her a bit perkier. “How about we just … have the time of our lives before you go? Like do a bunch of fun stuff or something or just … try to make it okay before you go?”

Delaware shrugged.

“What about right now we just go to sleep?”

Delaware nodded.

“Want me to play some music or the TV? I can go get a blanket and lay down on the floor and-”

“-No,” Delaware cut off. “Lay right here and sleep. Please, Mikey?”

Michael rubbed his hand along her back. She shivered a little bit. “Of course.”

Delaware closed her eyes and began to drift into unconsciousness, right on top of Michael. He ran his hand through her hair, let his other one lay right underneath her dark grey shirt, and just stared at the ceiling for a little while, pondering life. His heart was breaking, shattering into small pieces that nicked his insides. Everything just hurt and he cried silently, as to not disturb the girl sleeping on him. Her hand moved up his side, and he caught a glimpse of her left arm covered in sharpie tattoos.

While she slept, she was beautiful. Not just a beautiful teenage girl but the goddess she deserves to be, and the pain on her face seemed to disappear when she settled further into sleep. Michael’s heart healed itself, broke again, and kept on the routine until he finally fell asleep. His eyes closed, lingering on the thought of being in love with Delaware.

Something he’s never thought of before.

“You okay?” Ben asked Delaware. She nodded her head and stared at the drawing she’s creating on Jack’s bareback. “Are you sure? You seem really off.”

“I’m fine,” She dismissed and pressed the cool tip of her favorite black sharpie into his skin to further her design. She was running off envisionment before copying it onto his skin. So far, she’d created a snake uncoiling with a blank belly, but the back of daisies and sunflowers. Around the mouth of the snake, she outlined a sun that connected to its closed jaws. She didn’t know what she’d do with the rest of the sun, but she was going with whatever she felt.

Jack didn’t mind- it was like a miniature back massage as he played COD. “He’s right, sis,” Jack whispered before killing Luke’s character. They heard a scream resonating in Luke’s bedroom. “You’re off lately. Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Delaware outlined the snake and sun with a light hand and began to make mandala designs outside of the lopsided oval. “Just a little stressed.” Half circled went along the oval as small flower pedals. Should she put even smaller half-circles inside of them or stack them on top of one another to make fish scales? She decided on the fish scales route.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Luke respawned, and Jack killed him immediately.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“What do you call sleeping next to Michael Clifford then?”

“Nothing. I’ve slept next to Calum before, and Luke, and Ashton, and you guys.”

“No, Della, you like him,” Ben answered for Jack. “We aren’t stupid. How do you think Luke and Ashtone ever got girlfriends? Certainly not with their good looks!”

“You and Luke look exactly alike,”

“Shut up your opinion is irrelevant,” Ben rolled his eyes. “All I’m saying is, ask him out.”

“I don’t have a crush on him,” She switched from scales to large spirals that took up a lot of space and had a thick tail. Around the first spiral she made, she created daisy petals all around the object, then a circle to cut the pedals off from everything else. That was the design she liked. “He’s just a friend.”

“Bullshit.”

Delaware elected not to inform anyone besides Liz and Andrew about the letter she had gotten. They said they were going to try and put an appeal in for Delaware to stay with them, and to prove that her biological parents aren’t fit to take care of her. Liz held Delaware the morning after she got the letter and promised they’d get it sorted out. But they both knew that it was almost impossible. Liz told her to wait until Christmas to pack up, just to make sure she had room for every she’d gotten for the joyous holiday. Delaware persisted that she didn’t want anything; she didn’t want anybody to spend money on her, to buy gifts, or include her on their normal holiday traditions. Liz told her that her argument was stupid, and she’d always be family.

“Ask him out, Della, or I will,”

“Didn’t know you swung that way, Jack,”

“Oh shut up, you know what I meant!”

Delaware laughed. It was a relaxed Saturday morning for them. Though, in her head, she kept remembering that she had only three weeks before being sent back to a home she never wanted.

After that morning, Jack stopped allowing Delaware to draw on his back. She could draw anywhere else, just not on his back. Luke woke up one morning to Delaware running on coffee and snacks, trying to finish the sleeve she’d been creating for Jack. It ranged from the sleeve of his tank top, down to his fingers, and included several flowers, a lions mane, the outline of bones in his hand, a sword he’d found a picture of online, a blackbird, five pairs of small feet walking towards his hand, five skull rocker hands, a copy of his favorite cartoon character, and the planets swirling down his forearm.

“If you take a shower within the next twenty-four hours, I’ll kill you,” Delaware told Jack before passing out in her bed, next to Michael, who had been asleep for several hours already. Seemingly, after they had less than three weeks, Michael stayed over just about every night to comfort Delaware. She couldn’t sleep without him anymore. Her best friend jumped from Calum to Michael.

Michael threw a pair of black Converse at Delaware. “Get up you’re learning how to skateboard.” Delaware didn’t react. “Delaware May-Nova!”

“Fuck you!” Delaware screamed and pulled the blankets above her head. “It’s like two AM.”

“You didn’t even go to sleep until two AM,” Michael snapped back and tossed a pen in her direction. They stayed up late, FaceTiming since Michael was on a family vacation for a weekend. Delaware knew he’d be home early in the morning, but she didn’t think she’d be attacked by high tops. “It’s seven. Wake up!”

“No!”

“I’ll make you coffee!”

“I hate coffee!”

“I’ll get you cotton candy ice cream out of the freezer!”

“Will you put gummy bears on top?”

“Of course,”

“Okay,” Delaware threw the blanket off her body, thinking that Michael was out of the room. He was hit with a sight of a girl in her underwear and his hoodie and swooned over the view. “Get out.” Delaware hopped to her closet to pick out an outfit. Liz took her shopping several times, allowing her to choose all the clothes she wanted, regardless of the price. If they fit and be used a lot, she could get them.

“But my hoodie,” Michael protested, not wanting to let go of the vision of Delaware engulfed in fabric reeking of his cologne. Delaware pulled it off in a swift motion and threw it at Michael’s face. He didn’t get to see what was underneath before forcing himself out of the room. “Hurry up!”

“Get my ice cream,” Delaware replied before pulling tight black skinny jeans onto her legs and up her thighs. With Delaware and Mali-Koa’s weight gaining competition, she was starting to learn that she couldn’t fit into kids’ jeans anymore. Not that she actually cared; it would be easier to buy adult skinny jeans with rips in the knees and the lack of jewels on her butt. That’s if she ever gets to go shopping again- her biological mother isn’t a good provider and forced Delaware to wear clothes from her childhood, starving the growing girl to make sure they’d fit.

“Ice cream isn’t a good breakfast!”

“Then we aren’t skateboarding,” Delaware searched for a warm shirt, or even a large hoodie that would look good on her while she skated to her death, but nothing went. She walked to her door, opened it up and gave Michael a full view of her black sports bra. “There’s nothing to see. Give me your hoodie.”

“No!” Michael hugged his hoodie close to his body. “Mine. Get your own.”

“Fine. Luke!” Delaware screamed. Luke and Ashton had been getting ready too, after being pelted with Vans and Converse until they sat up, with direct instructions to teach their little sister how to stand on a skateboard. They tried to teach her once when she first arrived, but she ran straight into a curb and ripped a perfectly good pair of jeans. “Bring me a hoodie!”

“Get your own, Della!” Luke yelled back.

“See,” said Delaware. “Now you have to give me your hoodie or I’m going to go around shirtless and catch a cold and-” Michael cut her off by shoving his hoodie into her small belly. She smiled and slipped it back on. Michael was blinded by the sight, admiring Delaware when she sprayed perfume all over herself. “Stop staring. It’s creepy.”

“You’re creepy,” replied Michael. “Pull your hair back or something.”

Delaware raked a brush through her curly hair. “Just because you said that I won’t,” They met Luke and Ashton in the hallway and skipped down the stairs together. “Michael? My ice cream?” Michael groaned and cut into the kitchen to rip open the freezer. He pulled the carton out while the other two boys made themselves something logical for a good day of skateboarding. Michael scooped some ice cream into a bowl, added a few gummy bears on top, and presented the decorated bowl to Delaware that kissed his cheek.

“See, told ya’ Della,” someone said. Delaware jumped around to Jack, shirtless, and standing next to Luke. His back was to her, and she could suddenly see why he could no longer be her canvas; he’s gotten the snake she drew tattooed on his spine, coiling up more professionally than she drew, with the same blank belly and flower-clad back. Above the snake were five symbols; a football, a beaker, a drumset, a guitar, and a daisy. Delaware poked Jack’s spine, right where the snake was tattooed. “Fuck! You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“So. Got something to tell me, Jack Hemmings?”

Jack scrunched his face up. “Oh shut up, it’s a cool design.” Jack poked Delaware’s nose with the tip of his pinky. “Eat your ice cream and make out with Micahel Clifford before I punt you.”

Delaware enjoyed her breakfast from the countertop and argued with her brothers over who’s turn it was to fold laundry. Everybody including Michael claimed it’s Luke’s turn, but Luke protested that it’s obviously Delaware’s turn because she’s wearing Michael’s hoodie. Michael threw a frozen waffle at Luke and informed him that he needs to get clothes folded because Michael will start running out of clothes if he doesn’t.

“Then stop giving her clothes, dude,” Luke answered and shoveled a heaping spoonful of cheerios into his mouth. Michael laughed, told him that when a girl steals your clothes then you don’t ask for them back. “Then quit being in love with Della. It’s easy, dude.”

“I’m not in love with Delaware,”

“Well, she’s in love with you,”

“I am not in love with Michael!” Delaware squealed. She finished off the last of her sugary breakfast and hopped down from the counter to rinse her bowl.

“The fact he can call you Delaware, the fact that he bribed you with ice cream, dude,”

“You’re stupid,” informed Delaware. “And anybody can bribe me with cotton candy ice cream, gummy bears, and red popsicles. Now, let’s skate!”

“Yeah, no,” Ashton said. “Let me eat in peace, then I’ll deal with your high energy. Did you drink like seven five-hour energy?”

“No, eight, actually,” Delaware clapped her hands. “I just have naturally high energy.”

“Yeah,” Liz said before stepping into the crowded kitchen. “And if you don’t take your meds, then you’ll be bouncing off the walls. Delaware May-Nova, take your medicine, now!”

“Your middle name is May-Nova?” Luke asked before taking another bite. Delaware turned around to the medicine cabinet to grab down the two orange pill bottles with her name on the front and grabbed the capsules she’s required to ingest. She held both pills in hand and filled a cup of water. Delaware downed the whole cup. “That’s weirder than Delaware.”

“Your middle name is Robert,” said Michael.

“Yeah, and yours is Gordon,”

“Touche,”

“I happen to think Gordon and May-Nova are nice names, Luke,” said Liz. Michael looked up at his mom with wide eyes, scared that she’ll have some snarky remarks for him. “Now if they’d just start dating, I won’t have to hear about ‘oh my gosh you’ll never believe this!’ from Michael all the freaking time.”

“Exposed,” Ashton drags out.

“Ashton, take your medicine too or I’ll kick you,”

Ashton sighs and replicated Delaware’s movements. “I swear, Delaware and I are so threatened around this place. It’s like we’re never free.”

“You’re freer than I am!” Luke whines.

Liz rolls her eyes. “That’s because you got caught sneaking out, so I locked your window. Della, Ashton, if I find out you guys are doing that, I’ll do the same thing to you.”

“Don’t worry, mother,” Delaware said. “Not the party type. Never will be.”

Michael taught her how to skate, how to play the guitar, how to dribble a basketball and lose to him. Michael taught Delaware as many things as he thought he could in the two-week period until her departure back to hell and away from the people that loved her. He just didn’t teach her how to live without him.

Delaware became dependent upon the blond, needing to talk to him somehow before she went to sleep, sneaking out to go on 3 AM dinner dashes to McDonald’s or somewhere cheap, stealing his clothes just have a nice scent before she falls asleep. Delaware was in love with Michael- hardcore in love with him to the point she didn’t realize it.

The fateful day was coming closer, but on Christmas Eve, Michael planned an entire night out for Delaware and him, getting special approval from Liz and Andrew to keep Delaware out later than her curfew for the night of her life. Liz agreed, as long as he’d keep her safe, have her home before dawn, and would call her while bringing Delaware home. Liz was afraid that something would happen to Delaware; that she’d get hurt, or she’d be kidnapped, killed, tortured, but Liz knew that Delaware had been stressing for a long time and needed a night out. After dinner, Delaware and Michael played video games until everyone was on the verge of sleep, then Michael drug Delaware out of the house to skate to the nearby park.

“Is this seriously it, Clifford?” Delaware asked, hoping off her board before hitting the curb. Black converse hit the ground, shattered the paint on the bottom of the shoe, but still braced her feet. “A park? How lame.”

“Would you shut up?” Michael asked, grabbed Delaware’s free hand to jog behind him. They ran to a dark spot in the park, and Michael left her alone for a few seconds. She was scared but thought being killed would be better than going back to her biological parents. Honestly, going home is the worst Christmas present the foster care system could have given her. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Delaware groaned. Christmas Eve is cold, with a large chill in the air and a long burst of wind. But Michael plugged something in, and white Christmas light illuminated the spot around them. He’d set up a blanket, with ice cream and gummy bears inside a picnic basket, and some stray paints Delaware knew disappeared, and a large canvas. “What’s this?”

“Thought we could have fun tonight,” Michael shrugged, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. “We can go home if you w-”

“-No,” Delaware dismissed and settled herself on the blanket. It's the one she’s never seen before; one that smells of Michael, with red flannel patterns, and IDIOT printed on the back like a marker drew it. “Let’s paint.” She picked one of the three bottles of paint from the ground and shook it a little bit. Even with the lights, she could just barely tell it’s an iridescent blue. “Did you grab any paint brushes from my bedroom?”

Michael looked down. “Shit.”

Delaware laughed. “It’s fine. We have fingers for a reason,”

“I could make a dirty joke out of that, you know? I could be the wisest-”

“-You’re never the wisest so don’t even finish that.” Delaware squirted some paint onto her pointer finger and dabbed it on Michael’s nose. His eyes crossed to look at the blue dot staining his skin. “Look, Michael the Blue Nosed Idiot.”

“I am not Michael the Blue Nosed Idiot, you’re Delaware-” Michael picked the pink bottle from the ground and popped off the cap. “The Pink Nosed Beauty.”

“That took a turn,” Delaware turned her attention from the dot of pink on her nose to the canvas in front of her. It’s one that’s large and probably cost a pretty penny. She squirted a bunch of paint out onto it in a swirling motion and started to spread it out with her finger as a tye-dye. “So. Do you like bread?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, joining in on Delaware’s technique. He added a swirl of pink inside of the large blue one, and began spreading it with his fingers. It’s a messed up tye-dye of course, but whoever ended up with the canvas would remember the cracks of Michael the Blue Nosed Idiot. “Do you live too far from here?”

Delaware’s throat began constricting. “Yeah, actually,” She choked out and coughed to cover a suppressed sob. “It’s a few hour drive. It took us two days to get here.”

“Did you stay in a hotel?”

“Uh … yeah.” She didn’t want to answer, she just wanted to paint and cry and scream about how much she loved living in this place. “It was a cheap one. I had to sleep on the floor because there was only one bed. There was a pool, but it closed before we arrived.”

“Did you have a good breakfast there?”

“I didn’t eat breakfast. We were in a rush to get here,” Delaware sniffed, trying to forget how she’ll have to go through all of that again. She wants to stay with Liz! She wants the mother she never got that dried her tears countless times from trauma that flashed through dreams, hiding everything from the other teenagers, and reminded Delaware to take her medicine every morning, bought her appropriate clothes for different seasons, and allowed her to cheer. Liz supported Delaware at every basketball game she’d had so far, taking photos of her like Delaware requested, and tried to understand cheerleading terminology just so they could talk. Liz was the perfect mother, and Delaware wanted to do everything to not leave. Delaware laughed to hide her crying. “The foster care woman told me that I would be here until I graduated. I wouldn’t leave again unless they wanted me out, and not once had Mom and Dad voluntarily kicked a kid out.”

“It’ll be okay,” Michael whispered in a low voice. “We’ll all keep in touch. Calum, me, and your brothers will all come visit. A lot. I’ll move out where you live and we’ll go to school together. My parents’ don’t really miss me much, and I just turned seventeen so I mean-”

“-God, you’re such a weirdo.” Delaware wiped her nose and sniffed again. “Never, and I mean never live where I’m going. It’s a poor neighborhood, and my parents barely work. It’s full of low-lives that have no jobs and scrape by on food stamps. I want better for you, no matter what!”

“Then you have to come back after high school,” Michael told her. “You have to get into college here- or I’ll have you live with me next year! You can come to my birthday party and just not go home. You’ll be sixteen by then, so you don’t have to go home.”

“You’re an idiot, Gordon,”

“And you’re beautiful, Delaware May-Nova.”

“Why do you call me Delaware all the time? Why not like … Della? Everybody else calls me Della, but you always call me Delaware, even after I hit you.”

“I did it to annoy you because you were so cute when you got worked up over your name,” Michael confessed, adding more paint onto the canvas. This time, purple. Delaware took a scoop of purple onto her finger and slide it across Michael’s forehead. “Gross!” Michael laughed. “After a while, I just … I love Delaware so much more than Della. Like- you’re a Delaware, not a Della. As Luke is a Luke and not a Lucas. You understand?”

“Kind of like you’re a Michael Gordon?”

“Like that.”

“But even you said that Delaware is just so peculiar, and not at all normal.” Delaware laughed a little bit. “Who names their kids Delaware and Adelaide? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” Delaware looked to the sky. The clouds were gathering, but still, she could see the constellations. This would be the last time she’d see them in this park- she expects to be packing everything up tomorrow, and not going outside besides whatever they do as a family. “I was born in Delaware, and my sister was born in Adelaide. I guess my mom needed a reminder of where we were from or something.” Delaware rolls her eyes and shakes her head back to the canvas. “I wish I had a logical name, like Michael or Luke or … anything that’s not Delaware.”

“Like Jayde?”

“Yeah,” Delaware shivered. “That’s what I told mom I wanted to change my name to. Just something simple to blend in with my brothers. Not be a complete maniac and be named Delaware,” Delaware looked around to park. “Can we go elsewhere? It’s really cold.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that through,” Michael closed the cap of the paint he was using and stood up. “I’ll make Calum clean all of this up. Want to get something to eat?”

“We just ate dinner, Micahel,” Michael hoists Delaware up by her right arm, pulling her into the air before she crashes to her feet. “The competition between Mali-Koa and I is over. I’m not eating that much again.” Delaware won, by the way.

They watched a movie in the cinema downtown, walking there and back to the park. Then, Michael stripped himself of his jacket for Delaware and appreciated how she looked. A goddess; she’s always the goddess in his world and the only one that could win his heart. Three-day-long Harry Potter marathons, Pokemon competitions, and favorable anime aside, Delaware Williams was Michael’s first love, and he’d only admitted it recently.

Michael took pictures with Delaware, afraid he’d forget what she looked like after she left. They smiled, snapped goofy photos with odd faces, then he pointed the camera at her. They weren’t on a blanket anymore, but when he stood above her for a photo of a sprawled-out Delaware in the grass, he got the perfect moment. She put on makeup for him- curled her hair, wore brand new skinny jeans, and a shirt she knew he liked. She even thought to doll herself up with a matching bra and underwear set, though, he wouldn’t see it.

“Delaware,” Michael breathed before tripping over a rock and landing right on top of her. They were close- so close they were breathing the same air at different times and staring. Green eyes hit a reflection of a different hue, waiting for something to happen. Nothing happened. “Dela-” Delaware pulled Michael close and pressed her lips to his. It was tongues and teeth, cherry lip balm mixed with cold air and goosebumps, relishing in the dewy grass and warm jackets. Michael held himself above her, but Delaware grabbed his collar and pulled the older boy even closer, just wanting to feel the warmth and comfort of a human being.

“You kiss like a bitch,” Delaware giggled, releasing her grip on his shirt but just lingering a little bit, with his lips touching hers.

“You surprised me,”

“Noob,”

Christmas morning; Delaware was not ready for it. Ben, Jack, Ashton, and Luke woke her up in matching pajamas, disturbing her two-hour-long nap. Delaware and Michael walked all over the town, kissing, hugging, and sitting to watch the stars collide and connect. She almost screamed at her brothers, sleep-deprived and wishing to wait a little bit longer before facing the day, but she sat up, took the pajama set they gave to her, and closed the door to change.

Ashton and Jack had stayed up until Delaware was brought home with blood-red lips and eyes full of twinkles. Ashton stayed up with Delaware and talked about the night with her, and stayed in the room until she passed out. Delaware couldn’t complain about having such little sleep, especially since Ashton got much less. She felt bad, but wanted just a few more days with this family. Just a few!

“Morning,” Liz said, wearing the same pajamas everyone was wearing. Including Calum and Michael. Black flannel pants with a short-sleeved grey shirt. Delaware observed everybody; everyone except Liz and Andrew had a symbol on their left breast. Jack had a football, Ben had a beaker, Ashton had a drumset, Luke had a guitar, and Delaware had a daisy- just like Jack’s tattoo. Delaware stepped out of the room, towards the downstairs bathroom for a small mental breakdown. It’s tearing her apart- she can’t leave this place.

“Babe,” Michael whispered, pulling his new girlfriend into his arms. They’ll find ways to contact, to visit each other, and more importantly, to stay happy together. “It’s going to be okay. You’re not leaving forever, just a few years. That’s all okay?” Delaware cried harder in his arms. “Hey, shh,” Michael cooed. “You have Christmas presents to open.”

Michael’s family didn’t do much for Christmas, and Calum’s family does their Christmas celebration the night before, rather than that morning. Liz always invites them over and hands them a small stocking full of candy and a single ornament each. They’re her kids too.

“Yeah,” Delaware answered and nodded her head. Michael dried her tears and the tear stains next to the guitar symbol on his shirt. It’ll be okay- they all understand how emotional Delaware is going to be for a little while. “Let’s … let’s go open things.”

Liz gave every single person in her living room a stocking with their names stitched on the top. They got equal amounts of treats, an ornament, and a surprise iTunes gift card. Delaware smiled, thanked her, and kept it close to her body.

They began to dig into the presents scattered underneath the Christmas tree. Delaware opened her first present and looked over the package of canvases like they were her babies. Four of them- four pristine canvases wrapped in plastic wrap and sealed underneath a piece of cardboard to keep them all together. She opened another one; the same, but the canvases were black instead of white. A box of paints, new jeans, hoodies from her favorite bands, and expensive paint brushes she’d been wishing for her entire life. Slowly, she began breaking down. She can’t keep all of these things! It’s rude to steal from these people, to take their money from them that they earned with hard work. She swallowed and set everything into a pile. Her brothers were still digging into presents, and Michael was sat behind her, with her in between his legs and her back pressed into his chest. She leaned back further, as to grab comfort from him. If her biological mom were to find any of these things, she’ll pawn them for money, take them and give them up without guilt, or destroy the things she won’t get money for. Delaware isn’t allowed to have nice things.

Nice things are for good children. Delaware is not a good child.

“Della, are you okay?” Liz whispered, inching closer to Delaware to make sure she wasn’t dying. Delaware shook her head and looked at the mom she’d always wanted with tears rolling down her cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t keep all of these things,” Delaware shook her head. “I just can’t. You guys- you guys are my family but I just … I can’t keep these things. It’s not right. And Jack, you got a tattoo, including me, and I feel so sorry because I’m not going to be around-”

“Hey, you’re always our family, Della. Okay? Did you get that? You are my little sister? Don’t be ridiculous.” Jack answered, pushing aside a new laptop he’d gotten. He wrapped his arms around his little sister and held her for a few moments. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Della, you still have a few more gifts. And don’t worry about a single thing. These are all yours,” Liz said and took a box from the back of the tree. She sat it in Delaware’s lap and waited for her to tear the green wrapping paper with Delaware written across the top. Delaware ripped it a little bit, caught a glimpse of golden fabric, and tore the paper even more.

A letterman’s jacket, specially made for Delaware, with Hemmings written across the back and her letter for cheerleading pinned on the breast. Delaware held it close, cried right above the fabric -so she wouldn’t ruin it- and told Liz thank you a thousand times. She slipped it over her pajamas; it fits just right. Not too big, not too small. Just enough room for her, some thick clothes, and her phone. That broke her heart even more.

Everyone finished opening their gifts, and packed the wrapping paper up in the recycling bin. For breakfast, they had pancakes with bacon and eggs, orange juice, and Liz made sure that Delaware took her medicine. When she goes to her mom, she knows that she’ll go without medicine, as her mom doesn’t believe in taking Delaware to the doctor, especially for medicine that helps her function. Delaware took her plate and cup into the sink, rinse off the both of them, and stared right at the Christmas tree. It’s in the boys’ living room, so she can see it perfectly.

Tucked underneath all of the branches was a green box, one that hadn’t been there when they were cleaning up wrapping paper. It’s thin, maybe half an inch thick at most, but had a lot of surface area. Delaware pointed to it.

“There’s another gift,” She whispered, but everyone heard her.

“Who’s it for?” Jack asked. He looked over at it. “Go grab it, Della.”

Della walked to the box, picked it up and carried it back to the counter. It was perfectly wrapped, without a single crease in the tape. “It says Jayde. Who’s Jayde?”

Liz pointed to Delaware. “That’s what you wanted your name to be, right? Jayde May-Nova?”

Delaware nodded her head.

“Then it’s for you.”

Delaware looked down, and began to tear away at the paper, but it was wrapped a lot. Her entire body was shaking, even though she’d taken her anxiety medicine to calm her nerves. She shoved all of the paper off; every last bit. She was left with a picture frame. For a moment, she hesitated turning it over, afraid to be cut by the large frame. Shakily, she flipped it, but she couldn’t read it through all of her tears. She wiped her eyes and stared at the frame in front of her. The writing was fancy, but it was obvious what it had said.

Certificate of Adopting for Jayde May-Nova Hemmings finalized for 12/26

Delaware pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob, ready to scream out until her voice was empty and cracked. She fell to the floor, practically fainting from seeing the document. Michael picked her up. A camera was recording her reaction, seeing that this was something very important to her.

She looked at her brothers. Luke, Ashton, Ben, and Jack were smiling, with tears in their eyes.

“You didn’t think we would actually let you go back to your moms, did you?” Jack asked before standing up to engulf his little sister in a hug. “We’ll never let go, Jayde.” Delaware looked around, at her family- the real family that chose her, changed her name, and legally adopted her. Her biological mom, somebody that doesn’t deserve life. But Liz Hemmings- God, she’s an angel.

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mikauzoran · 5 years

Text

Adrienette Drabble Thirty-One: Comfort

“I need you…to get up…and eat something,” Plagg repeated for the fifth time, this time in a measured tone, very slowly. He was extremely close to losing his temper and screaming.

“I’m not hungry,” Adrien grumbled, hiding under his pillow, trying to drown Plagg out. “I already got up and showered. You only get one thing per day. Please let me go back to sleep until my life stops sucking now.”

“Kitten,” Plagg growled in warning.

“Kwami-Dad,” Adrien returned without heat.

“Kid, you’re letting yourself fall apart. You did so well yesterday getting out of bed and playing video games with hat-boy. Please,” Plagg stooped to groveling. “Please, please, please get up and eat.”

It took Adrien a long time to answer. “…I’m not hungry, Plagg,” he replied in a small voice. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s okay,” Plagg relented, going to snuggle up against Adrien’s neck. “Just…the next time someone comes in with food, could you chew on it a little for me?”

“Okay,” Adrien sighed.

“Thank you.” Plagg gave Adrien’s neck an affectionate lick.

Just then, the bedroom door flew open, and Chloé Bourgeois walked in like a queen in her own castle.

“Adri-chou!” she trilled, directing her butler Jean to set down the bags of food and the drink carrier on the coffee table and Chloé’s satchel on the couch next to it. “What are you still doing in bed? Up. Now. Breakfast is getting cold.”

“Breakfast?” Adrien echoed, sitting up in bed to stare owlishly at his oldest friend.

Chloé pulled out her phone to check the time and shrugged. “Brunch,” she amended, parading over to the couch. “That will be all, Jean. Thank you.”

Jean left with a bow to each of them, and Adrien was alone with an unstoppable force of nature that would have her way.

“I went to a lot of trouble for this, Adrien. You had better get over here and eat,” Chloé warned.

With a sigh, Adrien tossed off the covers and plodded barefoot over to take a place on the couch next to Chloé as she gingerly removed the pastries from their various bags.

Adrien gulped when he saw the familiar logo. “These are from Tom and Sabine’s.”

“Like I said, I went to a lot of trouble for this. Great personal expense,” Chloé snorted. “You’re always going on about their pain au chocolat, so…” She carefully shook the contents of the last bag out onto a plate.

“Was this a bad idea?” Chloé sighed, studying Adrien’s face. “You mentioned the other day that you hadn’t been in almost two months and really missed their pastries, so I thought…but if you don’t want these, we can just have the kitchen bring something up. I was attempting to be thoughtful, but it’s a skill that I struggle with.”

Adrien turned and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you, Chloé,” he whispered into her hair, strands sticking to his lips. “I really appreciate you doing this for me. You did a good job being thoughtful.”

She smiled self-consciously as they pulled apart. “Good. I was…” She looked away. “Nino said you weren’t eating. I was worried, and I thought that if I brought you something you actually wanted to eat…” She shook her head. “Adrien, I feel really bad that I haven’t been a good friend these past few years…that I didn’t know how to be a good friend. This isn’t something they teach you, and I—”

“—Chlo?” Adrien interrupted gently, resting his hand on her forearm.

She met his gaze. “Hm?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured with a genuine smile. “You’ve been a great friend this past month…. And I didn’t know how to be friends with people at first either. The first year or two after I started school, I was constantly second-guessing everything I did around Nino and them. I mean…I still do sometimes. Like you said, nobody taught us how to do this right, but I think you’re doing a good job. Thanks for this.” He nodded at the food, picking up a pain au chocolat and taking a bite.

A hesitant smile slowly formed on Chloé’s lips as she reached out and grabbed one for herself.

“You sure got a lot of food,” Adrien chuckled when he was halfway through his pastry. “I don’t know if I can eat all this in one sitting.”

“So save some for later.” Chloé shrugged with an indignant sniff. “It’s not my fault anyway. I ordered half this amount, but when Monsieur Dupain heard it was for you, he doubled it free of charge.”

“He…He did?” Adrien blinked in confusion.

“Oh. And your hot chocolate.” Chloé reached across Adrien to pull the drink with the A on the lid in black sharpie out of the carrier. She forced it into his hand. “Don’t let it get cold. Madame Cheng said that they don’t sell the hot chocolate you like in the café, so she made this up for you special.”

“She did?” Adrien whispered, taking a hesitant sip of the beverage. Sure enough, it was Marinette’s special hot chocolate blend, recipe known only to her immediate family.

“Don’t cry! Why are you crying? Stop it,” Chloé demanded frantically.

“I’m not crying,” Adrien protested.

“Your eyes are getting teary,” Chloé retorted. “That means you’re about to cry. Stop it.”

“Sorry,” Adrien chuckled, wiping at his eyes. “It’s just…I figured that Tom and Sabine probably hated me after my fallout with Marinette. They’re really important to me, like foster parents, so… It just means a lot that they still care, you know? That I didn’t lose them too.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Chloé sighed, gently nudging his shoulder with her own. “They told me to tell you that they miss you and that you should feel free to drop by the bakery any time. I think their exact words were that their doors were always open and they’d be more than happy to feed you.”

“Y-Yeah?” Adrien laughed, brushing away fresh tears.

“Yes, you dope. They genuinely like you. They asked me, seriously, like, a dozen questions about how you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. I thought I’d never get out of there,” Chloé scoffed. “And they told me to tell you, only if I thought it wouldn’t upset you, that they’d love to still have you over for dinner sometimes whenever the Whore of Babylon is out.”

“Chloé!” Adrien scolded. “Don’t call her that.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Please, Adri-chou. I know you’re stupid in love with her, but I’ve hated that street-licking peasant for going on two decades now, and she only ever does things to lower my opinion of her. I’ll consider relenting if she gives me cute nieces and nephews, but, until that day, her name is dirt to me.”

“Chloé,” Adrien sighed wearily.

“No,” she replied matter-of-factly. “The others do enough coddling of you and your unhealthy obsession. Not I, Adrien…. Her parents are actually rather tolerable, though. For simple-minded menial laborers, anyway.”

“Tom and Sabine are artisans,” Adrien growled.

“Fine. Whatever.” Chloé shrugged in indifference. “But you should take them up on their dinner offer. They seem like the kind of nice you need right now, and I’d feel better if there was someone making you eat. Madame Cheng said something about missing your coffee dates too. What was that about?”

Adrien blushed. “Sunday mornings I get coffee with Sabine and we speak Chinese. It’s just a thing we started a couple years ago when I offhandedly mentioned missing having a mother.”

“…What about people who never really had mothers to start with?” Chloé mumbled, taking a thoughtful bite of her pain au chocolat.

Adrien bumped his shoulder against hers. “I’m sure Sabine would get coffee with you if you asked, Chlo. Want to come with us sometime? I’ll text Sabine and see if we can all meet up next Sunday.”

Chloé looked down at her pastry, shoulders floating up to her ears. “…I don’t speak Chinese.”

“Good thing for you we both speak French,” Adrien teased. “And we can teach you some Chinese if you’re interested.”

“I’ll go,” Chloé decided. “But only because it’ll get you out of the house.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” Adrien chuckled. “I’ll text Sabine after you head home and coordinate with you later.”

“Don’t forget to make dinner plans with them,” Chloé instructed, setting down her pastry and reaching over Adrien for her satchel. She removed a DVD case. “We’re watching Gossip Girl today.”

Adrien didn’t protest as she got up to insert the DVD into the player.

She looked back over her shoulder, giving him an odd look. “What? No whining? No complaints? You hate this show.”

Adrien shrugged helplessly. “Believe it or not, I could actually use a little trashy TV to give my situation perspective. My life is screwed up, but at least I’m not them.”

Adrien smiled innocently, and Chloé rolled her eyes.

Rena Rouge was knocking on his window.

“Wow. Two in one day,” Plagg snickered from where he lay curled up on his pillow. “They must have assigned shifts.”

Adrien threw off the covers and ran to his friend as she hopped in through the unlocked window and landed in a crouch by his foosball table.

“Alya!” He caught her in a crushing hug as she detransformed.

“Adrien!” she laughed, wrapping her own arms around him and nearly squeezing the life out of him. “Oh, how’s my Sunshine? Boy, you are a sight for sore eyes.” She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek with an overexaggerated, “Mwah!”

“Alya, I can’t believe it’s really you,” he breathed, nuzzling her hair, her face, her neck.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she chuckled, reaching up behind him to tussle his hair.

Gradually, the embrace loosened and Alya took half a step back to inspect him.

She smiled sadly as she pet his hair and stroked his face. “Oh, Sunshine. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much.”

Adrien shrugged. “You hung out with me when you could.”

Alya rolled her hazel eyes with a snort. “Adrien, I can count the number of times I’ve spent time with you these past two months on a hand and a half.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Adrien replied softly.

Alya shrugged, taking him by the hand and tugging him over to the couch to sit with her. “It was partially my fault,” she amended, “but I’m here now, and what a heck of a time I had getting in here. How come Chloé didn’t have any problem waltzing right in this morning but I couldn’t even get past the gate?”

Adrien smiled sheepishly as he sank down onto the couch beside her. “Maybe because Chloé is Chloé and she brought food? My dad is looking kindly on anyone who can get me to eat something.”

Alya snapped her fingers. “Next time, I bring food. Do you want shrimp jambalaya or gallo pinto?”

“Surprise me. I’m easy to please,” Adrien assured with lackadaisical shrug. “So, what have you been up to lately? I mean, I got your texts, but texting isn’t the same as talking, and we’ve barely talked in forever. How’s your internship with Nadja coming? You start full-time next week, right?”

“Right. Right now I’m mainly just doing grunt work on the weekends, getting experience with all the different departments, learning how the whole business ticks. It’s super interesting, even if I do mainly carry stuff and go get coffee at the moment.”

Adrien nodded. “Everyone’s got to start somewhere, right?”

“Right…” Alya pursed her lips. “Is this really what you want to talk about? What I’ve been up to?”

Adrien blinked uncomprehendingly. “I mean…we do have a lot of catching up to do. Why? What did you want to talk about?”

Alya raised her arms wide as if unveiling herself and looked at Adrien expectantly.

Adrien’s eyes narrowed as he studied her appearance. “Sorry. What? Did you cut your hair? New glasses?”

She smacked his arm. “Sunshine, Rena Rouge just broke into your room through your window. I know Nino kind of spilled the beans when he revealed his identity to you because you know Carapace and Rena are dating, but how are you not freaking out right now? You’ve got a magical superhero sitting on your couch. Don’t you have, like, a million questions? Aren’t you going to ask what Ladybug and Chat Noir are really like? Aren’t you going to ask what it’s like to be a superhero? I mean, I know you’re a huge dork, and I’ve seen your Ladybug merchandise collection. Doesn’t this kind of rock your world or something? Maybe a little bit? Or did you and Nino do this all already yesterday?”

“Oh! Oh, sure. Yeah. Sorry,” Adrien chuckled unconvincingly. “What’s it like to be a superhero?”

Alya frowned. “Sunshine, are you sure you want to go into acting? That was just bad.”

Adrien grimaced. “I’m not good at improv. Give me a script, and I’m golden. I’m sorry. It’s really cool that you’re Rena, Alya. I just…I have a lot on my mind.”

Alya’s face fell. “Shoot. Sorry. Yeah, you do, don’t you?” She reached out, beginning to stroke his face and hair like she did for her little sisters when they’d had a nightmare. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrien bit his lip. “What exactly have they told you is going on?”

Alya pulled back, crossing her arms as she rolled her eyes, exhaling crossly. “A load of bull, that’s what. Nino says one thing; Marinette says another, and then they change their stories, and Marinette says what Nino said, and Nino says what Marinette said, and then they change their minds and tell me something else. I’ve been getting the runaround for almost two months now, and I’m about ready to strangle them both. Seriously. I don’t know how they expect me to be any help at all when they keep me in the dark. If I didn’t love those two, I would be so done with them. I swear. It’s all I can do to keep from slapping Marinette, and I don’t even want to sleep with Nino. I am so over all the lies.”

Adrien smiled knowingly. “Sucks to be kept in the dark, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Alya snorted but then thought again. “…Do you?”

Adrien nodded. “Wanna feel less confused?”

“Spill,” Alya urged, giving his leg a prod with her foot.

“The reason why they can’t tell you what’s going on is because they’re trying to protect my secret identity,” Adrien lied. “I’m Chat Noir.”

Alya stared at him for a good minute, at first waiting for him to crack up and explain that it had been a joke, but then she found herself reflecting on all the ways she had ever seen Chat Noir get beaten to a pulp and she felt dizzy because one of her closest friends had been an akuma punching bag for going on five years, and this was all a little too much to process.

Alya bit out a harsh, truculent curse, repeating herself several times until the idea became less horrifying to her.

“You can’t be,” she argued, shaking her head.

“But I am,” Adrien confirmed softly.

“You’re not wearing a ring,” Alya countered.

Adrien winced. “I gave it to my father for safekeeping in case I got akumatized. Plagg? Could you come say hi to Alya and sort of shortcut this for me?”

Plagg and Trixx came over to the couch together, and Plagg held out his paw to Alya.

“Enchanted. I am Plagg, destroyer of worlds. I would like to thank you for your considerable efforts to get my oblivious kitten into a relationship with the girl he likes.”

“Uh…sure,” Alya gulped, taking the paw cautiously. “Thank you.”

“Do you believe me now?” Adrien chuckled.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Alya mumbled, reaching out and pulling him to her in another vice-like hug. She buried her face in his neck, and he could feel her tears on his skin. “Just don’t move for a minute,” Alya instructed. “I’m processing.”

Adrien lightly ran a hand up and down her back, giving her time. “It’s okay, Alya…. I’m okay,” he whispered, trying to reassure her.

She shook her head against his chest. “Oh, Sunshine,” she breathed, pulling back to kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his nose. “Adrien…all this time…”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

She cursed again, giving his forehead another kiss. “I’ve seen you die. I’ve watched you die.”

“Ladybug always makes everything all right in the end,” he reminded feebly.

“That’s not the point,” she scoffed. “I’ve lost you…. I lost you, and I didn’t even know.”

“Sorry,” he demurred, shrinking in her embrace. “…Should I not have told you?”

“No. No, I’m glad you did. I just… This is going to take some time for me to wrap my head around.” She pulled away slowly, settling back on the couch beside him.

“Marinette reacted kind of like that too,” Adrien sighed.

Alya buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. Is that what this is about?!”

“Sort of? Part of it, I guess?” Adrien shrugged.

Alya cursed softly under her breath. “No wonder that girl has been a mess! Talk about a bombshell. The bursts of hysterical tears and the nightmares make more sense. She’s seen you die too.”

“Good to know she cares,” Adrien mumbled a little ruefully.

“Boy, you have no idea,” Alya laughed sarcastically.

“I have some idea,” Adrien grumbled. “We discussed it Saturday, and one of us is definitely more in love than the other.”

Alya winced. “Do you think you could eventually return her feelings, or…?”

Adrien gave a start. “Alya, she told me she didn’t love me—well, not romantically, anyway. She said she was just infatuated, obsessed. I’m the one desperate to put a ring on her finger, not the other way around.”

Alya blinked slowly, contemplating wormholes and whether or not she’d managed to trip into an alternate reality. “Start from the beginning. What the hell happened?” she demanded.

Adrien took a deep breath. “I’ve always had a low-level crush on Marinette, I think, but ever since I met her, I’ve been stupid in love with Ladybug. Emphasis on the stupid.”

Alya smacked herself in the forehead. “Oh. Oh, God, you’re Chat Noir.”

“Yes. And apparently four years is my limit on holding out for unrequited love to turn around, because a couple months ago I decided to give up on Ladybug and find someone new,” Adrien continued.

Alya groaned. “With all the girlfriends.”

“And somewhere along the line, I fell flat on my face for Marinette,” Adrien sighed.

“Ooooh,” Alya winced.

Adrien nodded sadly. “It was every bit as intense as what I felt for Ladybug, but I was a mess at that point, and I didn’t want to ask Marinette out and ruin our friendship because I had kind of already done that with Ladybug, and no one thought I was ready for a real relationship, and they kept telling me to date other people, and I didn’t know that Marinette had feelings for me, so…it was a real cluster…and I did something bad.”

Alya frowned interrogatively.

“So…you remember how Marinette used to not be able to talk to me?” Adrien bit his lip.

Alya cackled. “God, I don’t miss that.”

“Well, I really wanted to be her friend, and I noticed that she didn’t have the speech problem when she was with Chat Noir, so…”

Alya’s frown turned less curious, more accusative.

Adrien blushed. “I may have started dropping by her room in costume a couple years ago. I mean…what’s the point of being a superhero if you can’t abuse your powers to sneak into a cute girl’s room and befriend her, right?”

“Adrien Emile Agreste.” Alya smacked his arm. “That was not okay.”

“You underestimate how badly I wanted to be friends with her that I was willing to turn into a two-faced creeper in order to spend time with her without her stuttering gibberish at me. Clearly, I had a thing for her a lot longer than I realized,” Adrien sighed.

“…So Marinette and Chat Noir are friends,” Alya hummed thoughtfully. “That explains some of the flighty weirdness over the years. Then what?”

“You remember when I started avoiding Marinette for, like, two weeks?”

Alya nodded.

“That was right after Chat Noir told her he loved her and stole a kiss,” Adrien confessed, not meeting Alya’s eyes.

She smacked him twice more.

“I went back and apologized…and ended up making out with her for a couple hours on her balcony.” Adrien gulped. “Remember that huge hickey I had on my neck? That was then.”

Alya pursed her lips, holding in a scream.

“I asked her out. Chat Noir. Chat Noir asked her out. Before, when he’d told her he loved her, she’d said that there was someone else she was stuck on. She said she was trying to get over him because she didn’t think it would work because…I didn’t know that Adrien was the other guy. Apparently, my quarter-life crisis with those other girls was painful to watch and kind of destroyed her image of me. Apparently, she’d given up on me and was trying to move on herself, so when Chat Noir told her how he felt and asked her to be his…she said yes. And I was on cloud nine for almost twelve hours until the next day when she cornered Adrien about why he’d been avoiding her, and I explained about being Chat Noir and not being able to face her after the kiss.”

Alya let out a sharp hiss.

“S-She broke up with me,” Adrien’s voice caught. The rest of the story had been a simple recitation of the facts as he understood them, but this part still hurt viscerally.

“She said she was disappointed that it was me,” he added in a small voice. “She said she needed space, so…there was some other stuff, but that’s her story to tell, not mine. It’s complicated. I’m sure it was a shock to her, and I’m sure she had to do kind of what you did when you found out I was Chat Noir earlier, but…she’s got more interactions with both of me to go through, especially with the feelings involved, so…yeah. That could have gone better…. I think that’s going to be the title of my autobiography.”

Alya leaned over, slinging one arm around him as she used the other hand to wipe at his tears.

“Shh.” She gently nuzzled his cheek. “It’s okay, Sunshine…. Thank you for telling me.”

“Someone needed to.” He shrugged. “Sorry you’ve been left out of the loop for so long.”

She shook her head. “I can kind of see why. It wasn’t Nino or Marinette’s place to tell me about Chat Noir.”

“Marinette should have told you about other things. She’s always been immovable about…certain things she should tell you,” he grumbled.

Alya smiled tiredly. “She gets funny ideas in her head. She thinks she has to do certain things on her own, so she won’t confide in me. It bugs the tar out of me, but that’s just how she is. You’ve just got to keep loving her anyway.”

“For some of us, it’s not even a choice,” Adrien chuckled.

“You must be a train wreck,” Alya sighed, mussing his hair.

He nodded. “I’d like to say that I’m getting better, but I don’t know that I am. I guess…at least I don’t want to kill myself…even if I do want for all this to end already. It’s not like I’m going to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower and release my transformation or anything, though. I’m not…not actively suicidal, but…my thoughts are still pretty morose at times. I guess this is just me being overdramatic. Nino told me yesterday that I was a drama queen and that’s part of the reason no one told me about Luka right away.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Alya breathed, the air getting caught in her throat. A sick, cold feeling was curling up like a dead spider in her stomach. “We shouldn’t have left you alone so long.”

Her fingers clutched at his night shirt in horror.

“You know that we love you, don’t you?” Her voice shook.

“Of course I do,” he assured, resting his head against hers. “I mean, that’s why you’re here.”

“I love you even when I’m not here,” she insisted.

“I know. Don’t cry, Alya. I’m okay,” he chuckled.

“But you’re not,” she laughed helplessly.

Adrien shrugged. “I’ll get there. Even if Marinette doesn’t need me, Paris does…. I mean, as soon as Papillon gets back from the Bahamas or wherever he’s been vacationing for the past two months.”

Alya grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze as she looked him straight in the eye. “It’s not just Chat Noir. People need Adrien too. And not just Adrien Agreste the model, either. People need you. I need you, my dorky little Sunshine. Okay? …I’m sorry I haven’t been doing anything lately to make you see that.”

Adrien leaned in and pressed a grateful kiss to the top of her head. “It’s not too late to start.”

Alya squeezed her eyes closed, resting her head on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long while, letting their thoughts and emotions settle.

Eventually, Adrien straightened up and smiled down at her. “Wanna go for a rooftop run? We could race to Notre Dame, if you feel up to it.”

Tuesday was Elise’s turn to babysit.

“You don’t have to put real clothes on, but at least get out of bed,” she insisted, setting a covered dish down on the coffee table.

Adrien groaned. “Is this going to be a thing? You guys are just going to come marching into my room every day to pull me out of bed and make me eat?”

“Candy Floss, we love you. Now, get your butt out of bed. Your quiche is getting cold,” she snorted, setting out the plates.

Reluctantly, Adrien untwisted himself from the sheets and went over to the couch. “Where’d you get the quiche from?”

She grinned proudly. “It’s homemade.”

“You made me quiche?” Adrien blinked, wide-eyed in surprise, touched at the gesture.

“I helped. I mean, I chopped vegetables and cracked eggs. I can’t really cook, so my roommates did most of the work, but…” She shrugged, her grin turning sheepish.

“You’re the best, Lise,” he chuckled, pulling her into a hug.

“I try.”

“I’m surprised my dad let you in, though,” Adrien hummed as he cut into his quiche and took a bite. “He’s been a little capricious about visiting privileges.”

Elise nodded, cutting a slice for herself. “Bubble Gum told me. He said his girlfriend suggested bringing food because apparently Chloé didn’t have a problem getting in with pastries. …Your dad would have let me in anyway, though,” she informed.

“Oh?” Adrien snickered.

“Your dad loves me,” Elise asserted.

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Totally. He said he was glad to see me and thanked me for coming. I’ve been getting preferential treatment at shoots too. They’ve been requesting me specifically more often,” she reported, head held high.

“I’m glad nepotism within the Gabriel company is working out for you,” Adrien snickered.

“Yep. …Speaking of David Tennant, there’s a new series with him that I want to watch,” Elise segued. “You have Amazon, don’t you? The show is called Good Omens. We’re marathoning it today.”

Adrien shrugged. “I have time.”

Gabriel dropped the butter knife Wednesday morning as Adrien walked over to the sitting area in the dining room for breakfast. “You’re up out of bed…and wearing something other than pajamas.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, sitting down with a shrug. “Well, I’ve noticed a pattern. At about nine or ten o’clock, one of my friends arrives to drag me out of bed, and, by my calculations, today should be either Kagami or Wayem, and I don’t really want them to see me looking like a sloppy mess, so…”

Nathalie held out a little plate of fruit and cheese. Once he took it with an earnest thanks, she set about preparing a just cheese plate for Plagg.

“I mean, it’s one thing for Nino or Elise or Alya or Chloé to see me at my worst, but I kind of don’t want Kagami to lose what little respect she still has for me, and, even though he’s gotten better, Wayem still has this idealized image of me, and I just don’t have the heart to disappoint a fan, so while I’d rather be wallowing in my own misery, it looks like I’m just going to have to grow up and get over it already.”

“Being an adult sucks like that, to use the colloquial term,” Nathalie chuckled, passing him a cup of coffee. “We’re glad to see you looking better, though, Adrien, regardless of the reason.”

Gabriel nodded in agreement. “We’ve been worried about you.”

“Sorry,” Adrien muttered down into his cup, averting his eyes.

“Don’t be,” Nathalie stressed.

“How are you feeling?” Gabriel inquired hesitantly. “Do you feel like you can take your ring back?”

Adrien shook his head. “I feel like no one is ever going to love me as anything more than a friend or some sex idol meant to be salivated over from afar, so I’m going to die alone and never know what it’s like to be…”

He trailed off and tentatively looked up to find Nathalie and Gabriel staring at him. Their distress and helplessness was written clearly on their faces.

Adrien cleared his throat. “Sorry. I meant I’m fine. How are you?”

“…Fine,” Gabriel struggled to get out. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry,” Adrien muttered, voice sticking in his throat as he got to his feet. “I should have just stayed in my room. Sorry for interrupting your breakfast.”

Nathalie’s hand flew out like a frog’s tongue, catching Adrien’s arm before he could escape.

“Sit down,” she cooed. “You’re not interrupting anything. We still love you even when you’re depressed, so sit down and eat breakfast with us.”

Obediently, Adrien retook his seat, busying himself with eating the blueberries on his plate one by one.

“For the record,” Nathalie sighed. “You don’t know very many people, Adrien, and even fewer people know the real you. Maybe, once you’re feeling up to it, you can start putting yourself out there a little more, getting to know new people, maybe once classes start this fall. Maybe you could join some clubs. Perhaps, if you can let others see the genuine you, one of them will love you as something more than a friend or an idol. You’ll need to begin from a place of friendship first, though. It won’t do to go into meeting new people looking for a romantic partner. It has to start with friendship.”

Adrien looked up from his plate slowly. He made a thoughtful noise. “…That…makes sense.”

Nathalie nodded. “If you can keep yourself from desperately searching for the love you want and just be patient, maybe that kind of love will find you.”

Adrien nodded, looking back down at his plate, considering the cubes of cheddar. He handed one to Plagg sitting down on the table by Gabriel’s coffee cup.

While Adrien was preoccupied, Gabriel sent Nathalie a look of profound gratitude, mouthing, “Thank you!”

Nathalie winked.

#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chloé Bourgeois #Alya Césaire #Gabriel Agreste #Nathalie Sancoeur #Plagg #Mikau's Writings #There's a Daisy

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