#//taking over the entire blog the attention hoe

[r3dblccd]

Have you been Naughty or Nice?

tagged by: @vienrose & @rainyearning

tagging: @moonfl0wxr, @luneblush, @formorethananame, @mournus, @temporalobjects, @unfinishedjulyrain, @weedzkiller, @unavernales, @caelcstis, @warsinmyhead, @cherridream, @frxgmcnts, @dozenrozez, @mxldito, @wcvensouls

Minsung, you must have been EXTRA nice this year. Santa has a smiley face next to your name on the Nice List!

+ other muses under the cut because this is fun and I couldn't do just one muse

Yongsun, do you really think Santa is unaware of your inappropriate Facebook posts? Naughty. (ngl this is pretty accurate, just change Facebook with Only Fans lmao)

Nao, you REALLY put ex-lax in Santa's cookies?! Don't expect to see your name on the Nice List anytime soon. (also pretty accurate, they're a menace like that)

The world could use more people like you, Elaine. Keep up the good work, and you'll make the Nice List every year!

Wow Azazel, rescuing those Orphans from that burning building got you a free ride on Santa's Nice List for years to come! (he has a literal bears and wild animals as his pets and best friends, fir doesn't affect him, he totally save orphans from a burning building)

Ubon shouldn't you be working, instead of surfing the web during office hours… NAUGHTY LIST FOR YOU! (she's too hot to work, though)

Now, Oliver. Santa knows you're trying, but it still doesn't make up for last year. You're on the Naughty List.

Congratulations, Lilith! You've made the Nice List! JUST KIDDING. You've been a very bad, bad person. (next year she'll return Santa to Oogie-Boogie, she doesn't give a shit)

Ho ho ho! Nice try, Earendill. Thought you could slip one past the Big Guy, huh? Naughty. (let him enjoy Christmas at least once damnit)

2 words: Nice List. Mother Teresa has nothing on you Mrithun. (he is a single mother himself tyvm)

I must say, Chinhwa. You've really improved last year's performance and made the cut on the Nice List!

Dabi, you have been sooooo nice that you make "The CareBears" look selfish. (don't inflate her ego too much though)

Jum, Santa has something extra special for you this year! You're at the top of the Nice List. (don't give this idiot a superiority complex either)

You better start making some room for the huge lump of coal your about to get, or either start cleaning up your act Abigail!

Santa's been watching you Stella, and right now you have a very large coal mine coming your way.

Well, Toi, you've been a good kid this year. Santa has lots of good stuff for you this Christmas!

Abaddon, you must have been EXTRA nice this year. Santa has a smiley face next to your name on the Nice List!

So far you are on the "Nice" list, but you'd better watch out... Santa's checking his list twice! (and Tai's just like "What does this even mean?!")

Way to help that old lady, Amethyst. Santa will certainly add you to the Nice List this year.

Whoa Takumi! You need to start thinking about packing your bags if you don't change your ways soon. Santa is more likely to hunt you down than bring you a present.

There's a reason Santa created a Naughty List. And you're just one of those reasons Misty.

You are currently #11401 on Santa's Nice List. Not too shabby considering everyone in the entire world! Keep up the good work!

In the words of Larry David, you've been "pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good" this year.

2 words: Naughty List. You know why Arthit. (Art is still gonna get all the presents she wants for herself though, she doesn't care, she's rich)

[butteryunlikelylady]

it was never my life to live and he didn’t fall for the real me… he fell for an accessory and thought he could just change the label while things stayed the same

[d-rlingcorazon]

𝐃 ♡ 𝐑  𝐋  𝐈  𝐍  𝐆      𝐏  𝐑  𝐄  𝐒  𝐄  𝐍  𝐓 𝐒

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ 𝐑 𝐆 𝐔 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓

( 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝!)

(simon is a bit of a douche..)

crickets, silence, not a word spoken between you and the noticeably older man. after you lashing out and berating him for him not paying attention to you even though it was the first weekend since he has been deployed. the entire time, he looked over documents, files or anything else that wasn't you.

after multiple failed attempts at gathering simon's attention, you snapped and yelled out, "why is it that whenever you get deployed, all you do is look at everything else?! it's almost like you don't even want to talk to me!"

simon inhaled sharply, and his voice sounded quiet yet firm. "m' busy. either you accept that or get lost." the shocked look in your eye was a mix of fury, concern and disbelief. "what the fuck, simon?!"

simon doesn't even bother to direct his eyes at you, continuing to flip over thick piles of paper. in a last ditch effort to gather his attention you mutter something under your breath, quiet enough to act slick, but loud enough for him to hear.

"you never even pay attention to me anyway, bet you didn't even miss me." and thats how you got to this point now, the festering silence between you two. you saw simon prepare to say something but he just sighs and closes his mouth. salty tears swell in your eyes, and the already lump in your throat grows rapidly.

you storm off as tears trickle down your cheeks and you lock yourself in the master bedroom, to simon, he thinks you're being sensitive and he didn't do anything wrong. hoe does this get resolved? well simple, he ends up apologizing in a non verbal way by cooking your breakfast and taking you out to a nice restaurant, never actually apologizing.

hey guys! I just wanted to say that this is probably NOT how simon riley is, hes probably sweeter. but for angst purposes and because this is my blog and i love any angst, romance trope, it'll be that way. (i have a brooding obsession with angst and hurt)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐁 𝐘 𝐄 𝐋 𝐎 𝐕 𝐈 𝐄

[grapejuicegay]

Thai BL Favorites List Tag Game

I was tagged by @feralmuskyscentedhoepran @casualavocados @waitmyturtles (look guys! I'm actually getting to a tag game relatively fast this time!)

Favourite bl:

Could it be anything but Bad Buddy? It's my first ever bl, it changed my life, I met some of my favourite people on here because of it and it just destroys me every single day just be existing. It got me with a flying kick in the chest and I have never let go since

Favourite pairing:

I joined at such a great time in bl and I've had an absolutely wonderful amazing 2 years with so many great pairings. But I love Ink with my whole entire heart and I love both of them and just their very existence as a pairing is Such a Big Deal in the industry as a whole that it can't be anything but

My girls!!!! I have nothing more to say

More underrated actor:

I think it's a toss up between Sing Harit and Aou Thanaboon. I'm excited every time Sing has any sort of role in any show I watch. He's brilliant and SO good. Just like with Neo, he's great at comic relief and effortlessly funny but also SO GOOD in a serious role. And Aou just showed up like a year ago and maybe I'm biased because I'm obsessed with Mes and I love him as Max but I just want to see more of him.

Favourite character:

Feral. Musky Scented. Hoe. Baby Boy. King of Repression. Menace. Dimples. Pran Parakul Siridechawat. I love him so much.

Favourite side character:

Wat "you are what you eat. what you take builds who you are" Wasuwat. Just making movies and looking out for his friends and being their voice of reason in the face of the impossible pressure on all of their shoulders.

Favourite scene:

The Eclipse ep 6 beach scene!

Not just because it's such a good scene but also because it's the reason @casualavocados and I finally started talking after months of lurking around each others' blogs. Julian ily never forget the big meta 💖💖

Favourite line:

I've already yelled with @dribs-and-drabbles and @dimplesandfierceeyes how absolutely insane "I'm tired of pretending to hate you while your face has taken over my heart" is.

But also, "I can't change the world but the world can't change me either"

It's such a powerful line delivered in the sunniest of settings. It's validating and empowering and comforting. It's as big a hug as Uncle Tong gives the boys when they say goodbye.

Most anticipated bl and why:

Only Friends and 23.5 Degrees. I don't think I need to explain

Healthiest relationship in a bl:

They snipe and snark at each other constantly but the only reason it works is because they know each other inside and out. They look out for each other, they fight but they figure it out, they talk about everything. They love each other not despite of their flaws but because of them (it's literally canon!). They make me want to tear my hair out with how much they love each other.

Most toxic relationship in a bl:

I've been very very lucky so far to have watched only great to average shows. I know they exist, but not for me they don't 🥰

Guilty pleasure series:

I don't think I really have any?? Largely because guilty pleasure is usually assigned to shows that are cheesy and/or pulpy shows that you don't like to admit to enjoying because you don't want to admit to watching them at all. I just enjoy enough objectively bad media (fast and furious franchise my beloved) to not really feel guilty over anything I like anymore.

Bonus! Most underrated series:

Agreeing with both @casualavocados and @waitmyturtles on Triage and He's Coming to Me. Both of them absolutely fantastic and DEFINITELY need more attention.

This was fun! I don't know who to tag that hasn't done this already! I guess I haven't seen one yet from @dimplesandfierceeyes @respectthepetty @lost-my-sanity1 @jemmo. If anyone else wants to do this, consider yourself tagged too!

[haikyuucute]

ooh!! untameable au, the reader gets into a fight with a beta and he isn't there to stop it so she loses the fight and her pride at the same time(that doesn't change her beliefs tho)she's feeling so discouraged she can't do anything. ushijima notices after a few days and he steps in and takes care of her. so he takes a bath with her and even tries to build her a nest, he puts her in the nest and starts cuddling and scenting her and encourages her to get better mentally, angst to fluff basically

Yoooo angst to fluff is by FAR my favorite thing to write. (I once wrote a 10 chaptered angst to fluff fic, and I still get comments telling me I had them bawling their eyes out😈😈). Ty for requesting!

A/N: For those of you who don’t know, this is based of my Omegaverse “Untamable” series you can find on my masterlist

Warning: angst, bullying, depression

—

Comfort

Nothing had ever frightened Ushijima more than the day you stopped talking.

His fiery little omega that always had something to say, was completely rendered silent.

Your eyes were dull, missing the life he admired in them. And you made yourself small, hunched shoulders, head and eyes cast down. And your scent was so bitter that all he wanted to do was hold you and hide you away from the world.

He blamed himself that this happened. He should’ve walked with you when you were heading to your dorm during lunch to grab something you forgot, he knows you told him no, that you could do it yourself, but he should’ve gone anyway... it was what any other alpha would’ve done.

And because he wasn’t there to protect you, you were now in the worst state he had ever seen you in.

He made sure the beta that had done this to you got what he deserved.

In some ways beta’s were more dangerous than alphas. Alphas liked to get physical, beta’s liked to attack the mind.

And the beta you ended up fighting with, humiliated you in front of a group of omegas, alphas, and betas. Making a show of how powerless you were as you ended up on the ground, foot planted on your back while he spewed the meanest words about how pathetic you were, making everyone laugh at you.

You locked yourself in your dorm afterwards and refused to even let Ushijima in, and you hadn’t showed up to his dorm that night to sleep with him—Ushijima ended up sleeping outside of your dorm room that night because of how worried he was about you.

The next morning you had found the strength to get up and get changed for the school day, but you didn’t speak to him or anyone else.

He kept you close to him throughout the day, making you sit on his lap when he could, holding your hand, and keeping you tucked under his arm when you walked in the hallways. He hadn’t even spoken much to his friends, instead he kept his attention on you, subtly scenting you throughout the day. Ushijima wasn’t good with words, but he’d make sure you knew he was there for you.

By the time practice rolled around, you came with him as usual where he draped his volleyball jacket around you while you sat, so you’d be engulfed in his scent while you waited.

It wasn’t until the following day and you had shown not even the slightest improvement in your mood that he made a decision.

After practice he was bringing you to the train station and buying two tickets.

He was bringing you to his house.

-

You sat between Ushijima’s legs inside the bathtub, knees to your chest with your face buried in them.

His hands gently massaged your scalp, fingers threading through your wet locks. He used his own shampoo, fully intent on making sure you smelled just like him by the end of the night. And he repeated the actions with his body wash, taking his time to hopefully make your tenseness go away.

...You still hadn’t said a single word.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pressing his face into your neck, nosing gently up and down at your scent gland. The bitter scent was still strong, and he never thought he’d miss your scent as much as he did now... he missed you.

For the first time since you both arrived, he finally spoke.

”Speak to me Omega,” it wasn’t a command. You’ve never heard his voice as gentle as it was now, “Your Alpha’s here, I’ve got you...... please Omega...” he nipped softly at your bond mark before pressing a kiss to the same spot.

His heart plummeted when he was met with only more silence.

”Wait here for me.”

With that he stood up and stepped out of the bathtub.

He had disappeared into his bedroom for a while, as you continued to sit in the warm water that was slowly becoming cooler the longer you sat.

He eventually returned, easily picking you up and towel drying you before he dressed you in a t-shirt of his and a pair of his sweatpants that was way too big for you.

He then picked you up again and brought you to his bedroom where you saw how he attempted to assemble a nest for you.

A pile of blankets and pillows sat on the bed, as well as his clothing— anything that smelled like him.

He placed you down before climbing in himself, drawing you close to his body and pulling the blankets over the both of you.

He placed your face against his neck, making sure your nose was right against his scent gland before stroking your sides softly, scenting you.

He did this for the entire night. Relaxing when you fell asleep against him, but he hadn’t stopped his ministrations— he wouldn’t stop until you were okay.

Ushijima was terrified... he had never seen you shut down in such a way. He didn’t know what he was going to do if you didn’t start returning to your old self soon.

For the first time ever, Ushijima was questioning himself as an alpha.

He eventually fell asleep with you in his arms, but was stirred awake a few hours later with you shaking in his hold.

He blinked, realizing his neck was growing wet with your tears and he finally noticed the tight grip of your hands on his shirt.

”(F/N)?”

You sniffled, “W-Waka-kun...”

Ushijima’s breath hitched— you spoke.

He pulled back slightly, hand gripping your jaw, he so desperately needed to see your face.

It was swollen with tears, shuddering breaths escaping your lips as you cried— and yet you were still the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

”My beautiful Omega... I’m sorry for not protecting you.”

Another sob left your throat at his words as you fiercely shook your head, “‘s not y-your f-fault.”

He pulled you close again, your face back against his neck, “We’ll discuss it later. Just know that I’m here now.”

You sniffled again, “L-love you.”

His hand stroked your hair, “I love you too, sweet Omega.”

-

Requests are open!

-

Taglist:

@shiguraaa @tycrackculture @kynyta @cuddlesslut @baeshijima @yams046 @kkimoka @elegant-gypsophilia @mrkoala4prsdnt @sapphy-taffy6969 @yougivemebutterfliess @melanieacademy @yeet-these-hoez @nekomasmeow @thirsthourdemon @nekoma-hoe @curiouslilbeast @badboysdoitbetter2 @coupsieddori @mizuchan24-blog @mer92 @voids-universe @savemesteeb @basicallyberry @cherryonigiri @k-eijiakaashi @ethylalcoholforfandoms @sanemisthiccbih @a-book-lover-things @rue-was-here @reject-tinkerbell @kawaiipotatochan @mortifiedmoon @amirahroronoa @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @kkoalaworld @lilidrawz @royalmuffinsworld

[chuckbass-love]

Intrusion | Andy Barber

A/N : I’m so excited to be entering my first ever writing challenge on this blog. This is probably the first of many entries and i hope everyone enjoys. This is for the Shameless Hoes for Chris challenge. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, it’ll help me improve. 

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Thank you so much for doing this challenge @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ enjoy...

Pairing : Andy Barber x Reader

Word count : 2,462

Summary : You accidentally walk in on Andy naked...

Warnings : explicit language, sexual content and smut. 18+ 

I used scenario prompt 13. ‘Accidentally seeing the other naked’

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to whoever made this gif, if anyone knows who made it pls let me know so I can give credit. I genuinely just search gifs up on google and I never manage to find out where the original gif is from bc of so many people re posting gifs. I never wanna give credit to the wrong person! So if this gif is yours or if it’s someone you know then let me know and I’ll credit them. Thank you💗

It’s Friday afternoon and you’re stuck at work in the last meeting of the day before you get to go home and relax for the weekend. 

You’ve got plans to hang out with your neighbour Andy tonight. The two of you got rather close once him and Laurie split, he got quite lonely in that house which was understandable. 

You recall the time you saw him get takeout for the third time that week and you couldn’t stand the sight of it. So you made some lasagne and took it over to him in an oven dish. 

He was beyond grateful for the kind gesture and even invited you in to eat with him to which you gladly accepted.

Ever since the two of you have developed quite the friendship. He wasn’t ready for anything romantic so despite your little crush on him, you decided it was never going to happen. You had gotten used to it being strictly platonic. 

You always had plans with him every Friday night and tonight was no exception. Tonight is movie night at his place.

“Right okay, that’ll be all then guys” your boss calls out, breaking you from your daze. You have to admit, you didn’t pay attention during that meeting. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too important though.

You gather your stuff and head back to your office to collect your bag before heading out to your car. Once you reach it you check your phone to find a text from Andy.

‘Hey, just checking we’re still on for tonight. I’m gonna jump in the shower, back door is unlocked so let yourself in’

You smile down at your phone before starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. Once you reach your road and pull onto the drive next to your house, you contemplate showering first before going over but decide against it. Instead you walk across the road to Andy’s, going straight to his backdoor. 

You notice some popcorn on the kitchen counter, he must’ve picked that up on his way home. You start to wonder around whilst you wait but he seems to be taking forever. 

Surely he wasn’t still showering, he must have been in there for 30 minutes now. You wonder over to the staircase and start climbing, noticing that the shower isn’t on and you don’t hear any noise coming from the second floor.

“Andy, are you in he- OH SHIT” you curse as you walk into his room to find him stood there butt naked. You quickly rush out of the room and run downstairs. You’re utterly mortified. You can’t imagine he’s feeling any different.

Well, now you’ve seen your friend naked. Guess you can tick that one off the old list of things to do. You put the popcorn bag into the microwave and stand there in shock, attempting to process the sight that stood before you no less than a minute ago.

As much as you hate to admit it, the crush you had on him was still very much present now. Walking in on him naked has not helped in the slightest. You can’t get over his body, hell even his dick is huge. Just like you always imagined it to be. 

You try to wash away the impure thoughts, luckily for you, you’re snapped out of them by his voice.

“So... about that” 

“That was my fault, i’m sorry. I just wondered where you were. I shouldn’t have snooped” you ramble.

He lets out a deep sigh, walking over to you. You get the popcorn out and pour it into a bowl before walking away from him and into the living room. You plop yourself down onto the couch, seconds later he joins. 

“What movie have you picked?” you ask, in hopes that he’ll drop the awkward subject. Thankfully he does. 

“I chose American Psycho” one of your all-time favourites. You grin at his suggestion as he sets it up on the tv.

“I love this movie” you kick your feet up onto the couch, your skirt riding up your thighs slightly but not enough to give anything away.

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

The credits roll up and you yawn and stretch, moving the bowl to the coffee table in front. It’s been a long week at work and tired is an understatement, you are well and truly shattered.

You sit upright and turn to Andy who is looking back at you, his lips curling into a smile.

“What?” you giggle nervously, unsure of what he’s smiling at.

“You just look really good” you both freeze, did he really just say that? You sit there for a second, not sure of how to respond to him but soon enough the sarcasm comes.

“Well, don’t i always?” you flick your hair in a sassy motion, he chuckles “I can’t deny that” is this what you think it is? is he hitting on you?

“Anyways, i bet-”

“Did you like what you saw?” you know exactly what he means but you decide to play dumb.

“I’m sorry what?”

He shuffles closer to you on the couch, closing the space. 

“You know what i mean, did you like my body earlier, when you walked in on me?” you try to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth but it’s no use, your cheesy grin comes out to play and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’ll take that as a yes then” he traces his finger over your bare arms until he reaches your shoulder. His mouth soon replaces his finger as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then moving the kiss to your neck, then jawline and then finally he reaches your mouth.

Your faces are inches apart and you can feel his breath hitting you, you can’t help yourself anymore. You tried but failed. You crash your lips to his passionately. All your feelings for him come out in the kiss, you can just tell he feels it.

His kiss is rough and nasty but also intimate and loving all at once. You feel like you see fireworks going off in your mind, like all of time is standing still for the two of you. 

You get the impression that he’s wanted this for a long time, just like you.

You break away and your chests are heaving.

“That was one hell of a kiss” you pant, he releases a small laugh, nodding his head in agreement to your statement.

“I’ll admit, i’ve wanted to do that since the moment i first met you” you just give a look as if to say ‘i know’

You can’t believe your ears though, you felt it but to hear him say it out loud is something else entirely. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long” you look everywhere but his eyes, you feel nervous now, really, really nervous.

“I know” you cover your face with your hands, had you made it that obvious?

“You actually admitted it to me when we were drinking once. I ignored it because i wasn’t in any position to act upon it despite feeling the same. But i’m more than ready to act upon it now” you make direct eye contact with him and within seconds, he pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

He grabs a hold of your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth attacks your sweet spot. You feel him start to bite down, almost as though he intends to mark his territory. Like you belong to him now.

You let out a breathy moan, biting down on your lip at the intense feeling, he’s not holding back. You were sure to wake up with more than just a couple of hickeys in the morning but none of that matters right now. You want to live freely in this moment.

“Let’s take this elsewhere” he stands up and your legs wrap around his torso.

He makes sure the doors are locked before taking you to his room and throwing you down on the bed like you don’t weigh a thing.

He removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. You can see the huge situation forming and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight and thought of him eventually being inside of you.

“Now, let’s remove this shall we?” he tugs at your blouse, you untuck it from your skirt and he rips it off your skin. That’s one blouse you won’t be wearing again. 

“I’ll buy you a new one” he mutters whilst sliding your skirt down to reveal your red laced panties.

A grunt leaves his mouth as he removes them too, exposing how soaked you are for him. You spy his dick getting harder and harder.

“All this for me baby?” you hum in response, desperate for him to touch you.

“Please Andy” you whimper underneath him.

“Please what?” you prop yourself up onto your elbows “touch me” you beg, he smirks down at you.

He starts peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, teasing you until he’s inches away from your sex. You try to buck your hips up but he pushes you down.

“Patience baby girl” he warns and you relax onto the bed, awaiting his touch.

It feels like you’ve been waiting forever but just when you go to speak up his mouth starts sucking on your clit and he slides two fingers inside of you, without a warning.

“Ah yes, just like that” your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure he’s giving you consumes you entirely. He’s skilled, you gotta give it to him.

“Please fuck me daddy” did you really just say that? You feel the touching come to a halt and he crawls his way back up so he’s face to face with you.

“Daddy huh?” you open your eyes to find a cocky expression plastered across his face.

“I’m sorry-”

“You want daddy’s cock huh? Well then you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart” you gulp, his mere presence turns you on and is words only make matters worse. You feel shivers run down your spine. 

“Please daddy, please fuck me” you put on your seductive voice, spreading your legs wider for him and reaching your hand down to palm him through his boxers. You then use your other hand to rub at your clit.

“I need it, so badly” your eyes go wide, your teeth tug at your bottom lip. You know for certain that he’ll give in now. Sure enough... he does. 

He sighs as he watches you beg for him, he can’t hold it any longer. He gets off the bed to rid himself of his boxers. His face returns to it’s position between your legs and his tongue licks up your folds, stealing one last taste of you. 

“You taste so sweet” you giggle at him, pulling him up the bed.

You pump his hard cock a couple of times before urging him to bring it closer to your entrance. He tuts at your desperate state, taking your hands, lifting them above you and pressing them down into the mattress.

“No touching”

You feel his tip pushing at your tight hole and all of a sudden he rams himself into you, shifting you up the bed.

“Oh fuck” you curse as he stretches you out but the pain soon gets replaced by mind blowing pleasure. Your back arches and you try to remove your hands from his grip but you fail.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all this time?” thrust “to be fucked like this, fucked like the dirty girl you are” thrust “bet you walked in on me on purpose, wanted to see me all exposed” thrust. You wrap your legs around him, signalling for him to go deeper. Your wish is his command.

He releases your hands and you hold onto his biceps. He grips your legs, forcing them all the way back to your head.

“Andy, fuck” this new angle is allowing him better access, he’s hitting your cervix repeatedly. You know you won’t be able to last long if this goes on. You clench down onto his length, earning a grunt from him.

“Such a tight fucking cunt. That’s it, cum on this cock princess” his words push you closer and closer to your peak. You always guessed he was a talker in the bedroom and hearing it now is a million times better than all those nights you imagined it whilst touching yourself.

“Keep going, i’m gonna cum daddy” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps, the sharp pain causes him to jolt slightly, he only uses the pain to fuck into you harder. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your combined moans is like heaven to your ears. All your fantasies about this moment were nothing like this, this was better in every way.

With every thrust, moan and hit to your cervix your toes start to curl a little more. You feel it, it’s coming.

“FUCK” you release all around him, clenching down harder than ever before. Your back arches, your now chest to chest. He sits up, leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re now straddling him, you clench down again, milking him for all that he’s got.

He twitches inside of you and you feel his hot seed fill you up. You throw your head back and he wraps his arms around your body, squeezing you tight.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, allowing you both time to ride out your intense highs. He eventually lifts you off of him and you both fall down onto the bed. 

“Well that was quite something” you both burst out into laughter.

He stands up, walking over to the bathroom and whilst his back is turned you can’t help but check out his ass. He was definitely a sex god, sculpted to perfection.

“Here, let me clean you up” he bends down to wipe up the mess the pair of you made before cleaning himself up too.

You can’t believe that just happened. It happened so quickly, you’re still in shock.

He joins you in bed, pulling you onto his chest and his arm drapes around your shoulder. He starts tracing his finger along your back, making you shiver.

“You up for staying the night because i’d quite like to do that again in the morning” a smile forms on both of your faces as you lean your chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. 

“I’d love to”

You stay like that for a a while before eventually drifting into a deep slumber. It finally happened. You feel so happy.

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Day 5-Overprotection

After Marinette had cried herself out, Bruce guided the duo back into the kitchen. Alfred sent them all a smile before he vacated the room. On the table were four cups of hot chocolate and some of the croissants that Marinette had made during her panic that morning. When they had all settled, Bruce turned to his daughter. “Marinette, are you willing to talk about it?” The girl hunched slightly, before she looked over at him with red eyes.

“I, I can try.” She looked off slightly, seemingly focusing on the cabinets.

 “At the beginning of August, there was a storm in Pairs. I think it made it on the news. Internationally, I mean. But… it wasn’t a storm. It was…it was this- “Here, Marinette’s voice broke and she paused to collect herself. “it was my friend. She had been turned into, into, into a- “Dick pulled her into a hug, and let the girl collect herself.

“Net, if you need to stop, we won’t push you.” His reassurance was received with a nod.

“No, I, I can do this.” She took a deep breath. “My friend was turned into a villain because she was upset about loosing a competition. After that, we learned very quickly that someone was turning people into, into Akumas- “both Bruce and Dick jumped at the venom in her voice. “My class has almost all been turned at one point or another. In Paris, we all have to be happy. We aren’t allowed to be upset, we aren’t allowed to have a bad day, we aren’t allowed to feel!” Bruce stared at her; his face carefully blank as he processed the information. A noise in the doorway drew their attention and the trio turned to see Tim standing there. He looked shocked and the tremor in this hand as he came to join them made it clear that he had heard what Marinette had said.

“Little Bit, hey, I’ve got you” as he had moved to sit down, Marinette had thrown herself at him. As the girl hugged her brother, the others present in the room glanced at each other. Their worry was clear, and if they had their way, the girl would be staying in Gotham until this threat was neutralized.

“Who is fighting these… Akumas?” Dick’s question snapped Marinette’s attention in his direction, and she paused before responding,

“Ladybug and Chat Noir have been fighting them for the last five months. And its not the Akumas that are the worry, it’s their master Hawkmoth.”

To say that Bruce was pissed would be an understatement. Why was it that he hadn’t heard about this? Even more worrying, why hadn’t the League heard about this villain who basically boiled down to an emotional terrorist. With shaking hands, he called Sabine, intent on getting answers.

He wasn’t sure what he thought he was going to hear, but shock that Marinette wasn’t handling the situation like Sabine thought she should be not what he was expecting. When he had proposed keeping Marinette with him, Sabine had given a firm no, claiming that their daughter had to get her emotions under control. She hadn’t had any trouble before, why should this be any different.

When Bruce had gone to talk to Marinette about his idea, she had given him a firm “no” as well. As much as she loved her father, she claimed that she couldn’t abandon her friends and family back in Paris.

That evening after dinner when he went to talk to Dick about what he had dug up while Bruce had been on the phone, he was shocked at the security that Duck had to enlist Tim to break for them to even have references in the first place. Once they had gotten inside however, they entered a world much different than the one that was presented to them before. The look they got inside of Paris reminded Bruce more of Gotham than he would like to admit.

After being told that he could not keep his youngest in Gotham (Her argument boiled down to the fact that neither city was truly that safe…) Bruce tried to hire a bodyguard. When that didn’t work, he started to drop suggestions for forms of self-defense. Eventually, Marinette had to look him dead in the eye and threaten to leave on the first flight out of the city of he didn’t drop it.

Over the next week, Tim and Marinette started to spar under Dick’s watchful eye to pacify Bruce, but the man didn’t truly feel any better, until his daughter huffed and offered to put a tracker in her phone that he could use to keep an eye on her. She also pointed him to two blogs that she said were pretty reliable. One, The LadyBlog was run by a girl who, in Bruce’s mind, took too many risks. The other one, The Lady’s Spots, was run by the girl that Marinette had said was turned because of losing a competition.

 After that, the topic fell on the backburner. They did, after all have Christmas to celebrate. The day was spent with the entire family converging on the house. Jason and Steph made appearances, and Barbra Gordan showed up as well. The day after, when the Kents had stopped over for a visit, Bruce had pulled Clark off to the side, and brought him up to speed on what he knew of the situation. Partway through the festivities, as he was working to keep Clark for flying straight to the French city, Marinette got a notification on her phone that sent her tearing out of the room. When she had left the room, Tim and Bruce also had their phones go off. When they went to check, they found Akuma alerts and directions for civilians filling up both blogs. An hour and a half later when Marinette came back down, looking more than slightly angry, the others were quietly talking about the fight they had witnessed. When Clark had gone to ask her questions, the girl deflected, citing the fact that it was a holiday (even though it was technically the day after) and therefore they would not discuss depressing topics.

After Marinette returned to Paris, it was not uncommon for Bruce to have at least one of the blogs up in the background, grasping at straws, trying to find a way to help his little girl.

Heyyy

so the plan is, once this month is over, ill go back and fill in the big important days that im glssing over. right now, however, im trying to start on that plot that i mentioned. im not sure hoe long it’ll take me to the plot fleshed out, but it’ll probably carry out into a bit of october.

in other news, its Labor Day Weekend for me and that means that im going to have zero free time. each day will be posted, but dont be surprised if they are pretty short for a few days.

[samwrights]

Aoba Johsai 3rd Years as dads [hc]

Lmao, as if I was gonna stop at Karasuno. I’m a Seijoh hoe through and through 😂😂😂 this ones a little off the rails but it’s my blog and I write what I want. I’ll get to the rest of Seijoh later, maybe, but these turned out way longer than I anticipated.

Slight TW; mentions of miscarriage.

Iwaizumi;

I love this supportive man so much 🥺

I don’t even want kids and I’d let him turn me into a baby factory, idgaf.

Ahem, n e ways.

Low key, he would be freaking out over your guys’ first kid. Didn’t matter that you were in live-in S/O’s, or that you’d been together for y e a r s.

Homie wanted to marry you first, finally get you guys out of your shoddy apartment, maybe spend a few years traveling the world.

He wanted to live the life of a dink, at least for a little while before eventually starting a family with you. Apparently someone’s pullout game weak af.

Despite not being prepared for parenthood, your pregnancy actually goes pretty swimmingly. Iwa would def be the man to come with to all doctors appointments, parenting classes, and would literally call his mom every three seconds freaking out because he has no idea what color to paint the nursery.

“Mom, I can’t just paint it whatever, what if the baby doesn’t like it?” Don’t ask me why, I just know it would be a fact.

Throughout your relationship as teenagers, Iwa was always your hype-man cause he loves flaunting his woman at whatever she chooses to succeed at. Which made Oikawa hella jealous but irrelevant. Now that you guys were going to be a family, it was like falling in love with you all over again and he literally hyped you up everyday with how great of a mom you were going to be.

Endless comments on how beautiful you looked while pregnant, regarding your glow or how he gets so overwhelmed with love knowing that you are having his child. Fucking simp.

If you feel he’s laying it on too thick, you tell him it’s actually Mattsun’s and Iwa is just a cover so you can run off with him and Makki. 0/10, does not appreciate.

The closer you get to your due date, however, all jokes are completely off, and Hajime is in full on protective husband/dad mode. Did I mention y’all still ain’t married or

He does literally everything for you just to make sure you aren’t in too much pain or discomfort. Mfer won’t even let you pick up a laundry basket 💀

“Honey, I’m fine! Please, I can’t sit on the couch all day, there’s going to be a permanent imprint from my ass on it.”

“Baby, why is the couch wet?”

“Huh. Guess my water broke.”

Annnnnnd cue Hajime screaming his head off while proceeding to grab your hospital bag packed with clothes, a spare aux cable, and your toiletries, before rushing out to the car, starting it, and driving to the hospital.

Without you.

With that being his only major faux pas, Iwaizumi welcomes fatherhood with open arms. Sure, y’all didn’t have your house yet and a wedding was going to be difficult to plan (though if you’re down for the courthouse, he was in), and he didn’t have enough saved to buy you a ring that screamed “Mrs. Iwaizumi” to him.

But in the mean time, he could not get enough of his girls. Even little things like feeding your daughter or watching tv with her in his arms with you snuggling up to his side made him the absolute softest boy.

It may not have been his ideal situation in the past, but now all he looked forward to was watching your family continue to grow with a few more hopeful additions.

Oikawa;

Well this is awkward. You and Tooru I mean Oikawa broke up a few months ago. Not that it was a particularly bad break up; definitely more on the mutual side.

You wanted to continue pursuing your dreams and he wanted to carry on being a Pro. (Personally, I picture Oikawa being with a musician of some sort that posts covers of YouTube).

So even though you guys aren’t together anymore, you still keep up with how he’s doing in the pro VB world and he low key still watches your covers on the internet.

Your posting becomes less and less frequent, he notices over the span of a few months until you stop uploading all together. He thinks nothing of it until he gets a notification that you’ve finally uploaded a video. Two. Years. Later.

“Where we’ve been.” He doesn’t miss the collective pronoun before clicking on the video, seeing you standing with your guitarist, the former Nekoma VBC captain, Tetsurou Kuroo, as well as a cute, pudgy baby.

A baby that looked nothing like Kuroo and a whole lot like Oikawa did when he was a baby.

The video talks about your hiatus, as well as how you and your now boyfriend/guitarist were enjoying your life as parents and making music was hard with your little boy, and that the two of you needed to prioritize your son first. you introduce your baby, but the first thing Oikawa discovers is that the age of your baby and the duration of yours and Kuroo’s relationship didn’t add up. Don’t ask me why Oikawa knows how long you’ve been together, he has his resources.

Considering the toddler was two, and you and Kuroo had been together for a year. And the baby didn’t look anything like you OR him

Oikawa is flipping out now, and tries everything in his power to get a hold of you. Which oddly enough, wasn’t that hard considering your number is still the same.

“Did you finally figure it out?” Was all you said to him. He’s so upset that you didn’t tell him—that could have been him. Standing with you. Holding his baby—not bed headed fuck holding HIS son.

After FTing him, you, Oikawa, and Kuroo agreed to set up a meeting with all of you so Oikawa could finally meet his flesh and blood. He’s excited, but man oh man is he salty.

He missed his son’s first steps, first meal, holding him, teaching him how to walk, his first words; he missed ALL of it.

But the bitterness he feels completely goes away when he sees baby Oik’s in person for the first time. He had never, in his entire twenty three years of living, been in love until now. Despite your hesitation, you allow Tooru to hold his child for the entirety of your little meeting, allowing him to make up for lost years.

The three of you agreed on a form of joint custody that allowed Oikawa to have his son while you toured or were busy working, and you would have him while he was out doing his thing.

TL;DR, Oikawa takes the opportunity to make up his lost years spoiling the fuck out of his baby when he can and, oddly enough, the arrangement works out to benefit the both of you.

Ngl, parenthood is hard for him. Not because he doesn’t know how to parent, but rather because he never pictured his first child to come about this way. He would never admit it to anybody, not even Iwa, that knowing he had a child that he was barely a father to left him feeling lonely. That loneliness, however, motivates him to truly be the best dad that can be so that maybe when his son his old enough, he would rather live with him instead of his mom

Ofc, he teaches his offspring how to play volleyball as soon as he’s old enough to learn. But outside of that, Oikawa’s favorite thing to do with his son is little quiet nature walks away from the bustling city to have quality time with him.

Hanamaki;

This chill mfer 💀💀💀 for some reason, I feel like his love language is touch.

Your relationship with him was so simple, even after moving in together in your second year of college, years ago.

Well, it was simple.

As simple as life could be with four demons overrunning your house.

Due to the number of children the two of you had, with all of them being no more than two years apart in age, you became a stay-at-home mom, leaving Makki to provide for the six of you.

Because of your hellions wreaking havoc on you all day, Takahiro always wound down from work with the kids by putting on a movie and even reciting the script in his own voice to keep them entertained. Allowing you to go wind down with a glass of wine while you took a bubble bath.

Your oldest was Makki’s right hand man at the ripe age of 7. He always made sure that, as the big brother, he was looking out for his siblings and being the man of the house to help mommy while he worked.

Makki never raises his voice at the kids. Ever. Period.

If he’s upset with them or they did something they weren’t supposed to, he resolves the issue by picking them up, sitting down on the couch with them in his lap and staring at them. “Why did you draw on the walls with crayon, little man?” He would ask the offending five year old boy in the most calm voice.

“I wanted to paint a pretty picture for you and mommy!”

“And we love it. But next time, dude, if you put it on paper, I can bring those pictures to work so I can show everyone else.” Yeah, he calls his sons dude.

If his youngest and only daughter began crying over anything—Makki was on it like flies on shit. Little princess is not allowed to cry in daddy’s presence. He’s always quick to figure out why she’s crying too and, he learned, it’s mostly just because she wanted attention.

“When did you get so good at this?” You’d tease him.

“We’ve had lots of practice, honey.” 💀💀💀

A lot of the time, he felt really bad because he felt that he just kinda left you with the kids while he worked, and he’d be a little insecure. He thinks you’re tired of him and that you want to leave sometimes.

He thinks you don’t notice when he’s upset but he kinda dumb dumb cause you’ve been together for almost half of your lives, ofc you know when he’s upset.

While he’s laying in bed, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone before falling asleep for the night, you sit at his bedside, giving him the look. “C’mon, Takahiro. I can tell when something’s bothering you.” His lips would purse a little bit before locking his phone and putting it on his night stand, then holding whatever hand of yours that was closest to him with both of his.

“Ya ever just...get tired of our life?” Aksfnrjfl WOW THAT CAME OUT WRONG. This is why he prefers touch, he’s shit with words. “Wait no, that’s not what I meant. D-do, uh...a-are you happy?” Wow he really shit with words. Even if this would be conversation y’all would have at least once a year.

But no matter how many times you told him you loved him, he needed to feel it. Why do you think you ended up pregnant nearly every year? “I’m getting my fucking tubes tied after this, Makki.”

Matsukawa;

This goof would be your partner in crime second to Makki of course.

Half the time people kinda forgot you were dating let alone married because the two of you had always been playful and full of laughter; the only change was PDA was sprinkled in.

Sitting in his lap, little pecks during conversations, burying yourself in his neck or him burying himself in your hair, a hand always on your back or your shoulder.

Homies super subtle touchy.

The biggest reminder was when you’d announced your pregnancy to your friends. While Makki was super excited to be an uncle, Oikawa and Iwa were kinda like “y’all actually have sex??” Like you weren’t fucking married??

But whatever, y’all goofy and in love or w/e and it almost seems that the two of you aren’t taking pregnancy seriously. You totally are, but your friends don’t think so.

Coming up with baby names was Issei’s favorite pastime. But he went super left field with a lot of them, so you unfortunately had to veto them.

Painting and preparing the nursery was also an absolute blast. Because you both wanted the gender to be a surprise, y’all painted the room white on top with a full rainbow on the bottom, complete with gender neutral wall decals.

Honestly, he was so so so excited to be a dad. But mostly, he was just so smitten with you. It wasn’t hard for him to, considering the two of you were best friends long before dating.

He definitely turned your ultrasound pictures into memes that he hung in the babies room. “The last time I got pussy” captioned under the first ultrasound was his favorite.

You woke up one day in excruciating amounts of pain—like someone was carving out the muscles in your stomach and separating them from the skin from the inside and you knew something was wrong. “Issei, we gotta go to the hospital now!”

“N-now?” All jokes are gone, all laughter void and absent. “Honey, you’re only at the end of the first trime—“

“I know, idiot! We gotta go now!” You’re sobbing while hunching over your stomach, trying to walk but not succeeding in getting very far. Instead, your husband opts to carry you out to the car before zipping on over.

The sudden appointment had taken hours and the both of you felt drained. Well, you actually were. All of the pain you had experienced earlier in the day did not compare to the devastating blow of hearing that you had a miscarriage.

Silence fills every space that the two of you were in but, knowing you as well as he did, Mattsun refused to leave your side. Even if you had to pee.

“Babe, I have to pee.”

“Cool, which bathroom do we wanna use?” He wasn’t making jokes for the sake of being funny, which was the reason you allowed him to sit on the edge of the tub while you handled your business, holding your fingers in loose threads. It’s weird, but this was not a time for either of you to be alone to indulge your demons.

“We’re gonna get through this.” His arms would wrap around you from behind, carefully folding over your once filled womb, with his head resting on top of your own. “Just you and me, babe, against the world.”

“And Makki.”

“And Makki.”

[jamaiskookie]

bangtan headcanon: OT7 IN HIGH SCHOOL 📓✂️

☞ genre; fluff, crack

☞ warnings; excessively stupid

masterlist  u wanna talk to highschool!bangtan?

《KIM SEOKJIN》

class clown

always manages to sneak kimbap in class, and stuffs his face despite being in the front row. 

he’s alarmingly good at sneaking food into places. 

cafeteria ladies love jin so much. 

and every christmas he brings in his perfected sugar cookies and never shares them.

(he’s in the cooking club)

((he’s the only one in the cooking club))

will interrupt the teacher to make a bad joke. 

“yes so helium is the fo- oh yes seokjin?“

“i was reading an excellent book about helium, i couldn’t put it down!! ahHAHAHHYUKHYUKAHHAHAHHA“ 

nobody’s?? really sure?? if he’s dating namjoon or not?? it’s the schools biggest mystery, there’s currently a betting pool going on worth about $500

likes to annoy namjoon and yoongi about holding bake sales. 

is surprisingly good at planning parties?? but never hosts them?? hoseok always gets him to plan his parties and he even planned prom!!

he’s particularly proud with the theme he came up with. 

‘zombie meets elegance‘ 

it was actually pretty nicely pulled off (much to the shock of the entire student body) 

《MIN YOONGI》

student council president 

takes his job very!! seriously!! 

fights with the principal on funding daily. 

doesn’t come to school without coffee and resting bitch face.

even the teachers are afraid of this short little emo boy. 

is the only one who actually wears the school uniform properly with the little tie and jacket because that’s how you show school spirit. 

definitely that closeted gay in high school who thinks nobody knows about his homosexuality when in fact, everyone knows.

(nobody has the guts to bring it up to him though)

“hyung why are you staring at jimin’s as-“

 “-NO WHY GET BACK TO WORK” 

actually enjoys doing morning announcements. 

“make sure to check out jin’s dumb bake sale i think he’s selling brownies for some charitable reason anYWAYS time for min’s advice column!!“ 

min’s advice column is yoongi’s free therapy. namjoon suggested adding an advice column to the school paper so now yoongi just judges his classmates’s decisions gives subpar advice. 

“i personally think you have no chance with this girl, but you’re clearly hell bent on asking her out. it’s a dumb choice. good luck.“ 

《JUNG HOSEOK》

fuckboy

throws obnoxious parties at his parent’s huge ass mansion. 

somehow?? is?? the nicest? playboy??? evER??

will respect your girl’s boundaries but also would 300% hit on her when you’re not looking. 

aftercare king wILL cuddle with you and help you clean up or whatever until jimin eventually comes in screaming. 

his school id says “hobi 💦👅” ... noone knows how he managed to do it (taehyung thinks he seduced the secretary) 

surprisingly good at romance even though he deTests dating

“it’s a waste of time, money, and ass.“  “- what?”

gives everyone dating advice whether they want it or nOt- he lives his *shhh very secret* romantic fantasies through his best friends. 

once helped taehyung ask out his girlfriend... they’re still going strong!!

defo has daddy issues that he never talks about,, maybe if a girl finds it sexc™️ in that kind of messed-up-bad-boy-she-could-fix vibe he’ll bring it up

kinda failing science lmao he probably needs a tutor.. but will never admit he needs a tutor for sake of his pride. 

most definitely has had sex in the janitor’s closet a couple times, up until yoongi caught him once, reported him to the school board and got him suspended... for a month. 

(yoongi has no regrets, that was the best month of his life.)

《KIM NAMJOON》

student vice president

honestly would probably be the council president and is the most qualified for it but can’t be bothered.

plus he hates public speaking and the president has to speak at assemblies.  

genuinely enjoys learning!! bUT HATES GROUP PROJECTS

because every single fucking time taehyung and jimin pester him about teaming up and he ends up doing like 75% of the work.

not because anyone forces him to or anything.

it’s because jimin and tae are such dumbasses every time they finish their work namjoon has a sudden uRGE TO REDO ALL OF IT BC THEY GOT IT WRONG.

tries to take all AP subjects.

gives up and drops half of them by the second semester.

great student but also will “no yoongi i don’t want to fucking play basketball i've been awake for thirty hours trying to finish this goddamn essay that’s due tomorrow. wHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY DIDN’T I DO IT EARLIER I WAS BUSY TAKING CARE OF MY BONSAI TREES.“

started the school paper!! it’s called “persona post”

writes about actual relevant things like political events and global problems, but everyone else just writes about school gossip *sigh*

although that one column examining hobi’s sex and dating life was a pretty fun piece of writing to read through. 

he sits in the back of the classroom and never raises his hand even though he knows the answer like 95% of the time.

definitely has a crush on seokjin

《PARK JIMIN》

the one everyone has a crush on

and when i say everyone i mean everyone, even hoseok has had a crisis over park jimin. 

(jungkook is definitely president of his fan club) ((in case it wasn’t clear, he’s dating jungkook))

school’s golden boy, basically gets away with everything with a bat of an eye... and the most infuriating thing is he doesn’t even realise it. 

“omg jimin!! you’re so cute!! this shirt looks sO good on you, can i touCH?” “omg thank you i didn’t think it fit well because it’s my boyfriends but that’s so sweet!!” “boy... hm?”

mom friend: sweetest bitch alive and is always worrying about his friends but everyone knows he’s secretly really fucking kinky.

(again, jungkook has no comment)

the kind of person who celebrates christmas in june. 

literally- he starts putting decorations in his locker and around the school mid june. by november, he’s wearing reindeer ears to school.

*lowkey kind of a nerd* genuinely enjoys studying with namjoon.

“well, studying with anybody else is just too stressful!! plus, namjoon’s so chill. he doesn’t look like it but he actually is super sweet and nice!!!“

“... please take those reindeer ears off, it’s embarrassing.“ 

half of the school would probably cut off an arm to sleep with him. seriously, he gets offers like everYDAY it’s kinda getting tiRING

is considering starting a youtube channel where he just takes videos of all the dogs and babies he meets throughout the day. 

“idk i think vlogging would be fun“

《KIM TAEHYUNG》

art hoe

nEVER FUCKING STUDIES OR PAYS ATTENTION BUT GETS DECENT GRADES.

the definition of bisexual mess, WILL trip when he sees hot people.

exclusively wears wired gold glasses and soft neutral sweaters to school. if it’s a good day he’ll wear a beanie. on special occasions he’ll maybe throw in some fUN loafers.

dyes his hair to match ~the vibes~ of that season. the most recent wild hair colour is cool toned teal. 

jungkook said he looks like leprechaun shit, but tae really likes it. 

tried to go vegan countless times, failed each and every one when he passed by a mc donalds. 

carries his sketchbook wherever he goes. he has that thing around 24/7, 100% would not be surprised if he slept with it under his pillow.

really quiet until he has a point to make;; like that time where he launched into a three hour screaming lecture on how phineas and ferb is an animated masterpiece.

drinks tea purely for the aesthetic of it. 

goes to hipster coffee shops to pretend to study... ends up watching barbie movies and critiquing them on the writing blog that he thinks nobody knows about. 

watches anime in class (he recently rewatched all of ATLA for the third time,, failed his econ class but worth it!!1!!1)

《JEON JUNGKOOK》

preppy jock

once again, everyone is attracted to him, but he’s so whipped for jimin everyone’s crush fades away once they talk to him because-

“oh it’s so cool that you have a dog!! you know, i think jimin kind of looks like a pomeranian sometimes it’s sO CUTE- hm? oh jimin’s my boyfriend.“

... it’s disgustingly adorable. 

plays almost every sport and is somehow always the team captain. not out of obligation or with leadership skills or anything, everyone else just votes for him. 

mess with his friends and he’ll put a stink bomb in your locker. 

his nickname is “golden baby” because he’s good at everything, teachers love him so much. 

grades? sTELLAR. sports? he’s done them ALL. creativity? pAINTED THE SCHOOL MURAL. service? volunteers at a pet shelter whenever he can (the bunnies love him for some reason) 

everyone either is 

a) in love w him, wants to fuck

b) jealous of him but is also secretly gay for him

pretends to not know how talented and cool he is and plays it off super cool

proceeds to fail, the only thing he’s bad at is humble bragging. 

“wow omg lol i got a 100 on my bio test and yesterday i got a hole in one in golf, my first time playing it but it’s chill i guess hahhah day in my life amirite.“

**this headcanon is the start of the bangtan school series, stay tuned**

wanna be tagged in school series or my writing? here or send me an ask

[haptureratch]

sdjklsjklfsdlsdflsdfkldkflldfsfdsjldsfk bro why do you have to be a manchild

why

it was so good on paper

Okay, so like Russell has been pissing me off today. Part of it was my fault because I reacted from a place of fear when he said he just now got STD testing today. When I had thought it was already done and clear. Extremely assertive Jess came out. He didn’t know what to do, and I also partly spoke to him with Tyler in mind (him evading responsibility), so it devolved to him trying to displace all this shit on me and bringing up shit that was already said and done (the makeup purchase).

First the fuck of all bitch I told you don’t leave marks. If someone asks for that, why not try avoiding the motions that would lead to marks. Past partners have been able to avoid marks. And I’ve been able to avoid marks on past partners. That is not quite a “takes 2 to tango” situation where the blame is shared equally. If you don’t trust your ability to not leave marks, don’t fucking kiss my neck. Could I have stopped him? Yes, technically. To be perfectly in the clear, next time I will say, “I do not consent to neck kisses if you are going to leave marks.” It’s fucking possible to kiss necks without leaving hickies man I’ve done it before. You get a feel for how much suction your mouth is doing, idgaf what you think. Whatever, we’re not even going to be in that situation any time soon because I’m so tired of him consistently going all the way without going all the way. Yes, he’s welcome to say no. Of course. That is rule number one. But I can also say no to kissing passionately if I’m uncomfortable with where it doesn’t go. So like, no worries about marks for the time being lolololololol. PG-13 BINCH.

And THEN he tried to say he’s been unsure of the way I feel. That’s really just motherfucking laughable. 100%. I have been OVER-COMMUNICATING THIS ENTIRE TIME AND WARNED HIM THAT I WOULD. I TOOOOOOOOOOOOLD him that I will match his energy. And tumblr has the receipts that I fucking gave him time before I did. I’ll fucking share this blog if I have to bitch. I had to wrench an explanation out of him when I finally couldn’t take it and spilled my side of shit. He agreed that he was withdrawing because he’s afraid of rejection. Okay, hoe, there it is. I’m allowed to match that. I don’t have to hand-feed you my attention when I don’t get yours. Quid-pro-quo, hoe.

And all this sassy acrid energy does not reach him. That’s why Michael and I never had fights when he completely withdrew from me after a blissful couple months of communication. He never asked and I never told. RUSSELL IF YOU’RE GONNA ASK FOR CRITICISMS GET READY TO FUCKING TAKE THEM BITCH DON’T BE WEAK AF AND START BLAMING ME FOR THE UNCERTAINTY THAT YOU’RE FUCKING CAUSING. I literally already said weeks ago that Russell was good on paper and the initial convo was awesome and then it got shitty.

In conclusion, Russell is a manchild meddling in shit he’s not ready for and asking to see things he doesn’t wanna see.

JKRE OUT

P.S. all that horse shit about wanting to get to know me better but he’s yet to read the 2 poems I finally thought it was the right time to send. Wow. Wow.

wow

wow

wowow

wowowowowoowowowowooqwowowowwososijdfvzxjklzklxnvjkxcbl

the nerve. the absolute bullshit. I read his thing that he automatically shared with me and gave my input between pre-rounding and rounds at a fucking hospital. And he hasn’t ready my heart and soul put into writing that he fucking asked for.

why do i bother

why

dick too bomb?

KLJSDDKLFJSD FLMAOOOO I WOULDN’T KNOW

SO LITERALLY WHY DO I BOTHER

[platedgolds]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎.

hi,   friends   !   i’m   admin   fox   (   23.   she/they.   brt.   )   and   i’m   so   excited   to   get   this   going   !   it’s   been   a   wild   journey   to   make   this   group   happen   but   everyone   seems   so   nice   and   all   of   your   muses   are   so   interesting   it’s   def   all   worth   it   !   this   is   romeo   dubois,   my   himbo   baby   and   all   around   hot   mess.   if   you’d   like   to   plot   with   him,   please   feel   free   to   message   me   on   discord   at   pedro pascal stan blog#9349   or   send   me   your   discord   @   and   i’ll   message   you   there   !

*                     SEBASTIAN   STAN   +   CIS   MALE   +   HE/HIM   ——   have   you   seen   ROMEO   DUBOIS   around?   they’re   a   THIRTY-SIX   year   old   PHYSICAL   EDUCATION   TEACHER   known   around   town   as   the   LOOSE   CANON.   not   only   are   they   broke   af,   but   they’ve   been   in   town   for   SIX   YEARS.   they’re   LOYAL   +   LAID-BACK,   as   well   as   CHILDISH   +   UNHINGED,   but   what   else   would   you   expect   from   an   ARIES?   low-hanging   grey   sweatpants.   back   muscles.   a   beer   bottled   tucked   on   the   back   pocket   of   a   pair   of   jeans.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

romeo   was   born   in   eldora   to   two   very   absent   parents;   they   were   one   of   the   few   middle   class   families   in   town,   with   his   mother   always   traveling   for   work   and   his   father   at   home,   drowning   himself   in   alcohol.   from   an   early   age,   romeo   was   left   to   his   own   devices;   he   was   the   one   who   raised   his   brother   even   though   he   was   still   just   a   child   himself   when   cain   was   born,   with   no   skill   or   mental   capacity   to   take   care   of   himself   let   alone   an   infant. 

his   parents’   marriage   was   in   shambles;   the   whole   town   often   spoke   about   how   unfaithful   mrs.   dubois   was,   and   how   her   husband   only   stood   by   her   side   because   of   the   money   she   made.   romeo   was   too   young   to   understand   what   ‘cheating’   meant   when   the   rumors   first   started,   but   he   still   got   into   plenty   of   fights   by   the   time   he   entered   his   teens   and   the   infamy   of   his   mother’s   choices   were   echoed   throughout   high   school   bleachers

it   didn’t   take   long   before   people   started   recognizing   romeo   as   one   of   the   trouble   makers   in   town;   his   anger   against   his   parents   and   the   horrible   situation   they   forced   upon   him   made   its   way   out   of   his   chest   with   the   blink   of   an   eye,   lashing   out   at   everyone   and   anyone   he   could.   in   the   height   of   his   teenagehood,   romeo   knew   the   name   of   every   single   cop   in   eldora’s   precinct.   he   got   into   so   many   fights   it   was   hard   to   see   romeo   without   a   bruise   on   his   face,   got   drunk   and   wrecked   his   car   more   times   than   anyone   could   ever   count,   and   he   even   spent   a   few   nights   in   a   cell   after   a   particular   incident   involving   the   break   in   of   several   homes   around   town.   still,   people   pitied   the   kid,   and   many   would   leave   him   off   the   hook   no   matter   what   kind   of   bad   trouble   he   got   into.

despite   his   bad   manners   and   constant   anger,   romeo   excelled   in   sports.   more   specifically   ice   hockey,   which   he   had   to   take   a   bus   three   towns   over   to   be   able   to   practice   every   week;   he   loved   the   freedom   of   the   skates,   and   he   was   large   and   violent   enough   to   be   unstoppable   in   the   rink.   his   prowess   caught   the   eye   of   many,   and   by   the   time   romeo   was   legal   to   drink   he   was   shoved   in   an   airplane   and   taken   to   canada   where   he   could   practice   and   properly   excel   in   his   craft.

by   the   age   of   twenty-three,   romeo   was   back   in   the   united   states   playing   for   the   jersey   devils,   a   team   he   wasn’t   too   proud   of,   but   it   paid   the   bills   and   it   brought   him   the   notoriety   he   felt   like   he   truly   deserved.

by   the   age   of   twenty-seven,   romeo   dubois   was   captain   of   the   chicago   blackhawks   and   making   more   money   than   he   could   ever   know   what   to   do   with   it.   twenty-seven   was   also   the   year   he   got   married   to   the   victoria’s   secret   angel   he’d   met   just   eight   months   prior;   anyone   that   has   ever   met   romeo   will   say   he   peaked   in   his   late   20s,   though   he   would   say   they   were   the   most   miserable   years   he’s   ever   had.

it   all   came   crumbling   down   on   his   29th   birthday,   when   romeo   was   arrested   in   chicago   for   a   car   accident   that   nearly   took   the   life   of   a   young   mother;   he   had   two   male   escorts   and   over   a   pound   of   cocaine   in   his   car,   and   even   though   his   lawyers   managed   to   bribe   his   way   into   a   short   six   months   prison   sentence,   the   media   wasn’t   so   kind.   romeo   lost   his   job,   lost   his   reputation   and   managed   to   lose   every   single   penny   he   had   once   his   wife   divorced   him.

once   romeo   was   out   of   jail,   he   had   no   place   to   go   other   than   eldora.   he’s   been   back   into   town   for   six   years,   working   as   a   p.e.   teacher   at   the   local   high   school   solely   because   the   principal   was   a   family   friend   that   pulled   many   strings   to   get   him   the   position.   he   currently   lives   in   the   dingy   motel   in   the   outskirts   of   town,   spending   most   of   his   time   drunk   and   high---   and   for   a   man   who   swore   he’d   never   be   like   his   father,   romeo’s   had   never   been   more   wrong. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

literal   himbo.   that’s   it,   that’s   his   personality.   hot   &   stupid,   absolutely   joey   tribbiani   kinda   guy--   you   know,   if   joey   was   an   asshole   and   not   the   absolute   sweetheart   he   is.

v   selfish,   will   do   whatever   it   takes   to   make   sure   he   comes   out   on   top   of   every   situation.   still,   if   he   thinks   someone   is   worthy   of   his   loyalty,   he’ll   stick   by   them   no   matter   what.

big   liar.   seriously.   has   no   qualms   about   making   shit   up   on   the   spot   so   that   his   narrative   is   the   one   being   told;   damn   good   actor,   too.

big   hoe   (   it   runs   in   the   family,   the   bad   tongues   would   say.   ),   will   sleep   with   anyone   as   long   as   they’re   paying   attention   to   him   for   long   enough.

he   was   in   the   closet   his   entire   career,   and   now   that   he’s   been   shoved   out   of   it   romeo   has   no   intention   of   going   back---   calls   himself   gay   as   hell   way   too   much   for   someone   who’s   actually   bi.

6′3,   broad   shoulders   and   still   with   an   athletic   build   even   if   he   doesn’t   play   anymore;   romeo’s   far   too   shallow   to   let   himself   go,   even   if   working   out   nowadays   kills   a   little   bit   of   his   soul   every   time.

covered   in   tattoos,   with   a   well   trimmed   beard   and   hair   styled   perfectly   so   that   it   looks   messy   enough;   romeo   has   the   ‘i   look   like   i   just   woke   up   and   yet   it   took   me   three   hours   to   get   ready’   nonchalant   look   down   to   the   t.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

a   party   friend   ---   romeo’s   only   likable   when   he’s   drunk;   thankfully,   that   seems   to   be   the   case   most   of   the   time.   this   person   only   comes   around   when   they   want   to   get   drunk   or   high,   and   of   course   romeo’s   always   ready   to   take   it   up   a   notch.

a   best   friend   ---   they   are   always   on   each   other’s   corner;      this   is   someone   that   sees   romeo   for   who   he   really   is   instead   of   the   bad   guy   façade   he   wears,   and   loves   him   despite   his   flaws;   maybe   they   even   lived   together   for   a   while   when   romeo   first   came   back   into   town?   could   be   a   childhood   friendship   or   something   new.

a   protege   ---   for   one   reason   or   another,   romeo   has   deemed   this   person   worthy   of   caring   for   and   protecting   with   his   life.   like   a   momma   bear,   except   you’re   not   a   bear   cub   and   he   certainly   doesn’t   know   how   to   care   for   anyone.   could   be   funny   if   this   was   clearly   someone   that   doesn’t   need   protecting.

a   one   night   stand   ---   like   a   said,   big   hoe.   maybe   romeo   and   this   person   that   a   night   together   (   or   more   than   one   )   and   he   simply   never   called   back   ?   probably   doesn’t   even   remember   about   it,   acts   as   if   it   never   happened;   could   be   fun   if   they   had   been   friends   beforehand.

an   ex   ---   they   were   pretty   serious   at   one   point,   maybe   even   lived   together   ?   and   then   romeo   fucked   things   up;   it   was   definitely   a   self-sabotaging   thing,   where   he   felt   like   he   was   too   close   to   happiness   and   subconsciously   couldn’t   allow   himself   such   a   thing.   maybe   he   cheated,   or   maybe   he   started   picking   fights   for   every   single   small   thing,   or   hell,   maybe   he   even   started   ghosting   them   and   spending   the   nights   away   from   home.   whatever   he   needed   to   do   to   get   them   to   break   up   with   him.

a   hate   fuck   ---   they   hate   each   other,   but   they   can’t   keep   their   clothes   on   around   each   other   either;   every   argument   ends   up   in   heated   sex,   and   at   this   point   they   aren’t   sure   if   they’re   fighting   because   they   can’t   stand   the   other,   or   if   they’re   doing   it   because   they   know   where   it’ll   end. 

a   fan   ---   someone   that   knew   him   from   his   time   as   a   hockey   player   !   romeo   def   feels   very   uncomfortable   around   them,   a   constant   reminder   of   the   good   life   he’s   lost.

friends   of   all   kinds   ---   romeo’s   a   social   butterfly   on   his   good   days,   so   give   him   all   sorts   of   friends   !   co-workers,   old   friends,   some   new.   anything   !

[janelleclouds]

Still untitled. still tired..

There is a vagabond hotel in my heart. bad things lie there. what i want gets to stay there for as long as they please; to tell you the truth i have no say. i give the key freely. i want it to be a happy getaway so badly that i still have the honeymoon suite available for us if you would like, but it is not. there is no more joy that occurs. only repetitive acts of lust that honestly leave me high and dry, and then lonely again. at the end of the month i am no longer handing out the keys to whoever wants parts of me. im tired of being looked upon as a break from your reality. as cliché as it sounds, i want all or nothing. so on the 30th, i want you out if you do not want me in. all of me. this goes to the ones just passing by as well, please dont ever come back. i know i have lots of baggage and it is hard to me to love but i promise, you never left my mind... but i really need to abandon ship so i can stop sinking. If by some miracle you want me to be more than a friend, dont forget to mention it on the 30th. If im still a substantial part, almost a necessity for you to be even a little happy in this shitty shiiiity life, dont forget to mention it on the 30th. parts of me want to apologize for saying goodbye but i did no wrong and even then i still care more for your feelings rather than my own. im not only abandoning you but all my so called “friends” who remind me of the past. i hope they understand and maybe one day they could finally see all the pain i put myself through just at a chance of happiness. and honestly i couldnt tell you if it was worth it or not since i keep repeating chapters in my life. as i walk past these rooms i see visions of my past lovers. ones that cared. ones that didnt. the ones that tugged the shit out of my  soul and left me empty, the ones that seen my body as an object. ones who stole my innocence, and the ones who i gave my heart to and loved it but left it. i can see your faces, you all dont have just one, you have countless that you choose at will to reel me in. but also i will honorably mention the ones who are literally perfect for me and i dont want them the way i ever wanted [insert name here]. i leave you all those good and bad memories and take my strength to be a better woman. ill be honest, i ran back just for comfort and attention every time. i still only come back for one. i let myself indulge in the shallowest puddle of attention. dehydrated and content. not enough for me anymore. i want better. i need better. im so happy with myself right now that i dont want to go back into my toxic tendencies. maybe one day down the road when you realized you fucked up this entire time and realized i was the one or whatever... you see me truly and absolutely happy with someone else and perhaps a parent to a beautiful child and it get burned into your brain and you die with that memory. and if the chance you do everything in your power to win me over, you should know i want the entire world and you better give it to me. NOT ME STILL BEING HOPEFULL THOUGH.... you see why i need to let go??? let me let you go but for now i will be honest and say i am hopeful (i dont want to say very but its a solid 54%) you speak up on the 30th. SPEAK UP BITCH IM TRYNA LOVE YOU

if you see this before the 30th, most likely you know its you bc you creepily checked this blog, you fucking dick. stop playing and just message me. so take this BH lyric seriously, “Please, Be my baby. Don't mean maybe or not” (im sure you rolled your eyes at this point)

if you saw this and its already the first. IFHYYYY: Godspeed hoe, im over you lol..

probably not but im trying my darn tootin’ best!! fuck..(-:

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- Part 7 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

hello!!! so i have been trying so hard these past few weeks trying to get this final part of iiw right. i am insanely nervous to put this out there, because i don’t wanna disappoint any of the amazing people who followed this series from the beginning. i wanna thank all the thirsty hoes who have supported this fic and given me feedback, because y’all are the reason i had the motivation to finish the series. this is the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything, ever. i can’t believe this series is finally coming to an end 🤧BUTTTTT don’t forget that there will be an additional, shorter epilogue chapter! so stay tuned for that ;) I LOVE Y’ALL!!!! 

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, teen angst, like seriously A FUCK TON OF TEEN ANGST, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, sexual intercourse, (semi?) public sex, dirty talk

word count: 12.8k (IM SORRY LMFAOOO) 

tags: @alicecooper19 @ritualmichael @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @michaelsapostle @trelaney @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @cocosfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @prophesieddarling @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @lvngdvns @hisgirlwonder @telexnesis @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @anacerta @nuke-em-from-orbit @thingsthatoncemeantnothing @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @imjustasadhoe @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @littlehouseofleaves @elvahavax @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @alternativepetewentz @maytheforcebewithqueen

(sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but isn’t in my tag list!! tumblr won’t let me tag certain blogs for some reason!!)

i.

“Goddamn it, how hard is it for you to follow simple GPS directions?” Miriam’s voice was pitched in annoyance as she scolded your father, whose knuckles were near white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

“You know what? Why don’t I just pull over, and you drive instead?” your father snapped. You and Michael exchanged a glance in the back seat for what seemed like the thousandth time since you’d all loaded into the car several hours before.

In celebration of summer vacation, and you and Michael’s recent graduation from high school, your father and Miriam had decided to arrange something of an impromptu vacation. Your father was far too cheap to travel anywhere of any significant distance, so he’d decided that the next best option was to take a road trip down to Myrtle Beach, Florida.

“Oh my god, yes,” Michael had said to you after your parents had broken the news to you both. “Do you know how many half-naked sluts we’re gonna see there? Myrtle Beach is like, white trash central.”

That comment had been the fuel for one of the many arguments you and Michael had engaged in following graduation; there was tension in the air, hanging thick and heavy over your heads as the days crept along, and the mindless bickering between you and Michael was at an all time high.

Not that it stopped either of you from having sex. Quite the contrary, in fact— you and Michael had been having so much sex that it was maybe even getting a little ridiculous.

“Seriously, Michael?” you’d said after his crude comment, your tone far whinier than originally intended. “Go fuck one of those half-naked white trash sluts instead of me, then.”

It’d taken him several minutes to convince you that he’d been joking (even though you were still fairly certain that he’d been dead serious) followed by some admittedly top-quality make up sex, which proved to be enough to convince you to move on.

Maybe something was in the water, you thought. Even Miriam and your father had seemed to be fighting constantly as of late, and the stressful atmosphere of the household made you feel constantly on edge; it almost felt like there was an impending disaster coming, one that was impossible to prevent. You only hoped that whatever disaster might be on its way would avoid you and Michael.

Right now, Michael was leaning with his forehead resting against the window, a bored look on his face as he skipped through the music playing on his phone. He only had one earbud in, the other draped over his shoulder (presumably so he could eavesdrop on your parents’ ridiculous arguments), dressed casually in light gray sweatpants and a faded Jimi Hendrix shirt.

Fuck, he looked good. He was jostled slightly with each slight motion of the car as it moved forward, the muscles in his arms subtly flexing as he reached up to run his fingers through his soft, tousled blond hair. For a second, your mind was clouded with images of a beach-bound Michael, his tanned, water-speckled torso lean but still toned, swimming trunks clinging to the lowest point of his narrow hips and leaving almost nothing up to the imagination. Your mouth watered.

“You know, if I’d driven, we would’ve actually arrived at the hotel by the time the GPS said,” Miriam said.

“So why didn’t you!?” your father exclaimed.

You locked eyes with Michael yet again, whose pale eyes glimmered with slight amusement at the nonstop back-and-forth between your parents.

“Because you insisted on driving.”

“Insisted? All I did was offer to drive out of the kindness of my— oh fuck, I think we just passed the hotel.”

“We did,” offered Michael flatly from the backseat, the soft glow of the neon hotel sign reflecting in his pupils as he craned his neck to follow the building.

“Goddamn it,” your father muttered, scanning the road for somewhere to make a U-turn.

“Nice going,” Miriam muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

You were jerked forward as your father abruptly turned the car around in an act that you were ninety-nine percent sure was illegal; in a matter of seconds, the car was parked in the hotel parking lot, officially marking the end of the several-hour-long trek. Everyone seemed to let out a unanimous sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally,” said Michael, opening the door and swinging his legs outside so his ratty Converse sneakers made contact with the asphalt. You followed suit, making your way around to the trunk, which you popped open to retrieve your colorful travel bag.

The sound of crickets chirping through the mild Florida night was soothing despite its incessantness, and you found yourself smiling idly, a warm breeze gently caressing your face. So maybe you weren’t in the goddamn Dominican Republic, but you were still prepared to enjoy your time here.

Once everyone had taken their respective belongings from the trunk, your father led the way to the front entrance of the hotel.

The hotel lobby was nice, but certainly nothing special; it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the sole reason your father had chosen this place above all others was because it was the cheapest. Your father, weighed down with his overstuffed black bag, trudged over to the front desk with a pained look on his face.

“Imagine this place is infested with roaches,” said Michael lowly, flashing you a shit-eating grin when your face paled at this terrifying prospect.

“Shut up. My dad isn’t that much of a cheapskate.”

“Or what if it’s haunted?” he said, furrowing his brows to mimic a deadly serious expression.

“It’ll be haunted by your ghost in about five seconds if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“I saw this thing online about a girl who went missing, and then they found her in the water tower of the hotel,” he continued, and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t at all surprising that he was trying to scare you. “And like, all the people staying there were showering and stuff, but little did they know they were washing themselves in dead body water.”

“Can you shut up, please?”

His plump lips contorted into a devious smile. “What, am I scaring you?”

“No, you’re just being really fucking annoying.”

“Aww, don’t worry, (y/n). I’ll protect you from any ghosts or cockroaches that might be here.” He pulled you into a side hug, squeezing you against him with an iron grip as he nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. You pulled away, exerting minimal strength but still managing to evade his grasp.

“Are you going to be this obnoxious the entire trip?” you said, watching as your father appeared to be looking for something in his pockets. After patting himself down for several seconds, he said something to the man behind the front desk; whatever it was that he’d said resulted in Miriam’s face contorting into a look that could easily kill anyone three times over.

“Here we go,” Michael whispered, mouth twitching at the corners as he averted his attention away from you and onto your parents instead.

“You’re an idiot,” Miriam was saying, practically seething as she spoke. “A goddamn idiot. How the hell did you manage to forget the credit card?!”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed as he attempted to come up with a response good enough to satiate his fuming wife, but of course there was none.

“How did he forget the credit card?” Michael said.

You shrugged.

Miriam huffed loudly as she began to dig through her purse, shooting your father a contemptuous glare when her hand emerged, leather wallet in tow. You watched as she pulled out her credit card, handing it over the front desk to the visibly uncomfortable man standing there.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the muscles in your arms starting to burn from the weight of your travel bag.

Michael, having apparently lost interest in your parents’ altercation, suddenly turned back to face you. “You think I’ll be able to pass for over 21 at the hotel bar?”

Before you could respond, your father was making his way over to you, brandishing two key cards in either hand. “We decided it’d be best for all of us if you and Michael had your own room. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

He handed you a card, and as you looked it over, you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to Michael.

It was truly astounding how clueless everyone seemed to be in regards to your relationship (if you could call it that) with your stepbrother, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Just the thought of having a room all to yourselves was enough to make your heart race.

“Of course we don’t mind,” you said with a smile.

“Just— y’know. Miriam and I have some things we need to work out, and, well, I don’t want you guys swept up in any of the drama,” said your father.

“Totally understandable, dad,” said Michael, beaming as he snaked his free arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be able to manage. What do you think, (y/n)?”

Michael widened his eyes at you, the contorted features of his porcelain face dripping with faux-innocence.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, tone cheerful and sweet.

In unison, you and Michael looked away from one another and back to your father. His eyes were shadowed with deep rings, and he looked more like he was about to head off to a 9-to-5 shift at a dead-end job rather than a vacation with his family. “You kids be good, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, ripples of electricity making their way up your spine as Michael lightly stroked your shoulder with his calloused fingertips. “We will.”

ii.

“Room number 69, huh?” Michael said with a quirk of his eyebrow, licking his lips as he plucked the key card from your hand and slid it into its designated slot by the door. “It’s like they knew we were gonna be staying here.”

“You are eighteen years old,” you said in a monotone, though secretly Michael’s immature sense of humor and silliness were qualities that never failed in making your heart swell.

There was a subtle beep as the light next to the slot flickered green, and Michael pushed open the door with one shoulder, the other occupied with his bag. “How fucking awesome is this?”

You followed him into the modestly-sized room, discarding your bag at the end of one of the two pristinely made beds. Michael did the same, and without even giving you time to settle into your new surroundings, he pushed you firmly up against the nearest empty wall.

Even despite the fact that he’d been sitting in a hot car for several hours (unsurprisingly, your father was very stingy with the air conditioning), Michael still managed to smell good; the intoxicating mixture of his shampoo, paired alongside his boyish deodorant and woodsy cologne, was dizzying from such a close proximity.

“You didn’t waste any time,” you chuckled, cheeks flushing as he began to pepper kisses along your neck and behind your ear, lifting one hand to brush your hair over your shoulder.

“Why would I?” he said, his voice low and seductive. He took a moment to playfully nip at your earlobe, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him so you could pull his firm torso closer to yours. “What else are you supposed to do when you’re left all alone with such a pretty girl?”

As much as you weren’t willing to admit it, your heart soared at this validation- Michael thought you were a pretty girl. Those words, coming from that perfect mouth, made you feel a childish sense of giddiness, gave you butterflies in the pit of your stomach like an innocent playground crush.

Michael wandered one hand up over the curve of your hip and onto your waist, lips still moving open-mouthed against your jugular and around to the front of your throat. Reaching up to the back of Michael’s head, you took a fistful of butterscotch-colored hair at the root, using it to guide him back towards your face. Then you kissed him, hard and passionate, your fingers threading easily through his waves as his tongue slipped past yours and into your mouth.

Ding!

You assumed Michael’s phone had just gone off, but neither of you paid it any mind, your breath hitching as Michael slid one veined hand up under your tank top to grope your left breast.

Ding!

“My pretty baby sis,” Michael breathed, swollen mouth slick with saliva. Panting softly, he continued to ignore his phone, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it behind him haphazardly.

With his upper body exposed to you now, you took the opportunity to trace your fingers down the length of his subtly defined abs, stopping just beneath his navel. Just below that, after the cute trail of fuzzy blond hair that paved the way to his v-line, was the low-hanging waistband of his gray sweatpants; you hooked your fingers there, just barely pulling the fabric down as you eyed the mouthwatering bulge prominent in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t help yourself- biting your lower lip, you brought your hand between Michael’s legs and grasped his semi-erect length through the soft material of his pants.

Ding! Ding!

Michael hissed, but he seemed to be somewhat distracted now; you knit your eyebrows as he twisted around to face the source of the interruption- his phone, which he’d left on one of the beds.

Ding!

“What is that?” you asked, frowning. It wasn’t often that Michael tolerated anything getting in the way of his hookups, so you found it mildly concerning when he broke away from you entirely to go and grab his phone.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his lips as he looked at his screen, and you could tell that he was stifling a smirk. “Oh. Uh, it’s nothing.”

You moved from your place against the wall, approaching Michael with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Sure, maybe it was none of your business, seeing that you weren’t Michael’s girlfriend or anything, but he’d piqued your curiosity.

Ding! Ding! Michael fumbled with the phone for a second before turning it on silent.

You cocked your head to one side. “No really, what is that?”

Michael had hidden his phone behind his back now, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

Okay, now you had to know.

“C’mon, lemme see,” you said, trying your hardest not to sound upset. Why were you upset, anyway? You reached around Michael to take his phone from his hand, which, surprisingly, he allowed you to do without much protest.

You looked down at his phone, jaw dropping as you began reading over the several notifications stretching down the length of his screen.

NEW MATCH! With Sofi

NEW MATCH! With Katherine

NEW MATCH! With Kristen

NEW MATCH! With Mallory

NEW MATCH! With Caitlin

NEW MATCH! With Anna

Your eyes flickered up to Michael’s face, down to the phone screen, and then back again, unsure of how exactly you were supposed to react to such a discovery. Michael just offered you a sheepish shrug, somehow only pissing you off further, and angrily you shoved his phone back into his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding? We’ve been here for less than an hour and you’re already trying to find hoes on Tinder?”

“Well, I mean, that’s one way to put it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see what kind of girls live around here, I swear. I wasn’t actually gonna-“

“-Whatever,” you mumbled, bending over to unzip your travel bag. It wasn’t like you had any sort of right to be pissed- Michael could do what he wanted, and if what he wanted was to hook up with random Tinder girls, then so be it. Still, though, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You rifled around in your bag until you came upon the neat ziploc bag full of travel-sized shower essentials, which you tucked under your arm. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I feel gross.”

“Wait, (y/n). Are you mad at me?” You weren’t sure if he actually cared about hurting your feelings, or if he was worried that you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore; either way, you didn’t think right now was the best of times to be honest about your feelings.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, and you knew it (and so did Michael, most likely).

“Well… I dunno. You seemed pretty pissed just now.”

“No, no. Do whatever you want. Fuck as many Tinder girls as your heart desires. It’s not like we’re exclusive.” You continued to search through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and hair towel and tucking them alongside your shower supplies.

“Someone sounds bitter,” Michael mused, causing you to narrow your eyes at him in a focused, pointed glare.

“I thought it was sort of established already that this-“ he motioned at himself, and then to you- “isn’t gonna go anywhere. So I don’t really see the harm in looking around.”

Instantly, you felt a lump form in the back of your throat.

He was right. You’d even said it yourself, that nothing good would ever become of this thing you had with Michael; as much as you wanted it to, it was impossible. So why did it hurt so bad to hear it coming from him?

“Which is why I’m not mad,” you said, swallowing thickly. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

But, like the cliché you were, you did care. Thinking of Michael with anyone else made you feel sick to your stomach. But what were you supposed to do about it? You were his stepsister.

God, if only things had been different. If only the universe hadn’t brought you together in the most inconvenient and unconventional of ways.

You turned on your heels, leaving Michael behind as you made your way to the bathroom without another word.

Once you’d started the shower and adjusted the temperature, you stripped down, catching a glimpse in the mirror of the many marks adorning your body that Michael had left behind at some point or another- hickeys (some bright lilac and navy blue, while others were fading shades of yellow and pink, all speckled down your chest and over your breasts), fingerprint-shaped bruises, shallow scratches.

And those were just the physical ways that Michael had marked you; you were sure that if you turned yourself inside out, there would be thousands more markings to be found.  

You thought maybe this was exactly what you needed right now: a long, hot shower to clear your head. Maybe, if the mood struck, you’d even cry a little bit, just to get your emotions in order.

You stepped into the shower, flinching at the intensity of the stream as it cascaded relentlessly over your body. Shutting your eyes, you ran your palms over your face, skin prickling at the pleasant warmth of the water. After you’d allowed your hair to get sufficiently soaked, you reached for your travel-sized bottle of shampoo, squirting some of the coconut-scented gel into your hand and working up a lather.

You were halfway through your usual hair-washing routine when you heard the bathroom door open; you opened one eye, hardly wider than a squint, to see a tall, blond-haired figure through the steamy glass shower door entering the bathroom. Though the thick layer of steam on the door heavily obscured the intruder, you were still able to see that whoever had entered was butt fucking naked.

Fucking Michael.

There was a metallic squeak as the shower door slid open, revealing an image to you that must’ve been hand-delivered by an angel. There, in all his naked glory, stood Michael, one hand positioned by his side and the other gripping his impressively hard cock.

It was a miracle you didn’t slip and crack your skull open right then.

“Hey,” said Michael coolly, a smug smirk appearing on his lips when he noticed you staring at his length.

“Michael, what are you doing?” you asked, attempting to sound just a little less eager than you were feeling. You tilted your head back, quickly washing away the excess shampoo in your hair, and as you did this, Michael joined you in the shower.

“Saving water,” Michael replied, pulling the door shut and enclosing the two of you within the stream.

“How environmentally friendly of you.”

“Aww, are you still mad at me?” You tensed as he grabbed your hips and brought you closer to him, the head of his cock brushing your stomach and sending chills throughout your body.

“I was never mad at you,” you said flatly. You kept rinsing your hair, refusing to give Michael the attention he clearly was so desperately seeking (not yet, at least).

“You were a little jealous though, weren’t you?” he teased, squeezing your tits without warning and making you jump. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve already told you before that your pussy is my favorite.”

“I was never worried,” you snapped, but you couldn’t deny the arousal that immediately resulted from Michael’s words.

“Whatever you say, baby,” said Michael, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. You shivered at the feeling of his big cock on your ass, and all at once, whatever snarky comeback you’d been formulating disintegrated into nothingness.

Your eyes fell shut as Michael’s hands traveled over your body, his touch gentle but still possessive; he stopped at your tits, kneading the smooth peaks in both hands until they stung, kissing your shoulder when you squirmed at the slight discomfort. “Just relax and let your big brother take care of you.”

He retrieved your body wash off the ledge in the shower, gathering some in his palms and returning his attention to your tits. You leaned back, resting the back of your head on his broad shoulder as he began rubbing the body wash all over you (mainly focusing on your breasts, because what else would you expect from Michael Langdon?).

His slippery hands felt like heaven on your tits, pinching and toying with your nipples just the way you liked. It wasn’t until his hand began dipping lower, though, that your breath caught in your throat.

His fingers trailed past your stomach and down to cup your cunt, goosebumps erupting across your skin as he hummed in your ear. Your entire body reacted to his touch, muscles tightening and thighs trembling, hips rolling back so you could better feel his deliciously thick cock against your back.

“You like that? Like how I touch you?” he murmured, his words reverberating against your throat and igniting a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

With one hand, he used his fingers to splay apart your outer lips, gathering some of your wetness by stroking up and down your slit while his other hand worked at your tits. A familiar heat began to spread from behind your navel, and paired with the near-scalding warmth and great pressure of the shower stream, you felt your head start to spin.

You laid your head back on Michael’s shoulder, trusting him to keep you balanced as you reclined limply against him. His fingers moved upwards again, using the sticky arousal on the tips of his fingers to massage slow, lazy circles over your aching bud; you let out a gravelly moan just as Michael administered a sharp pinch to your hardened nipple.

“Fuck, Michael… feels so good.”

You were well past the point of preserving your pride, bucking your hips against Michael’s hand while trying to squeeze your thighs shut around it, keeping him close to you.

“Hm? Is that right? You like when I touch your pussy?” His voice was husky, rich and warm like a roll of tropical thunder; swallowing noisily, you bobbed your head up and down in agreement.

Garnering what little energy you had left, you extended your arm behind you, spreading your fingers in search of Michael’s erection; tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips at the feeling of his stiff, smooth skin, you followed the slightly jutting vein that wound up the side of his length, stopping at the head of his cock and running your thumb over his leaking slit.

He groaned at the sensation, encouraging you on. You returned your hand to the base of his cock, grazing your fingers along his sensitive balls before taking a firm hold of his shaft, pumping your fist up and down his length with as much vigor as you could manage.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and although he now had the added task of awaiting his own impending orgasm alongside bringing you to yours, his fingers did not falter between your legs. Every throaty groan passing his lips seemed to drive his fingers into more of a frenzy, forming fast, sloppy shapes on your aching bud until you were crying out.

“That’s a good- fuck- girl. Keep jerking your big brother’s cock, just like that. Feels so fucking good,” he breathed against your skin, making you shiver even despite the heavy, humid warmth of the bathroom. You could no longer see anything through the glass door, which had become entirely overtaken with thick fog; for a moment you felt like this was the only place on earth that existed- a closed-off world of steam and water and porcelain made just for you and Michael.

With your eyes shut tight as the coil in your belly prepared to snap, all you could do was listen to the melodic blend of sounds enveloping the small space and attempt to move your body in time with the makeshift rhythm. Not one sound fell upon deaf ears- you were hyper-aware of every vulgar, human noise; every breath and every moan; every squeak of wet feet on the slick white floor.

This might be the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, you thought.

“Fuck, Michael— more.” Stretching your other arm back to desperately grab at Michael’s damp mop of waves, you allowed yourself to come undone, arching your back so your erect nipples were pointed up towards the ceiling.

Michael brought his free hand away from your breasts, instead using it to brace himself against the shower door, creating a hand-shaped imprint in the steam that immediately began to drip with condensation.

Without thinking, you let go of Michael’s hair to join his hand on the glass; lacing your fingers through his, you worked at his cock with your opposite hand until his breaths grew ragged and choppy- a sure-fire sign that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, (y/n), keep going,” he moaned breathlessly, pressing his thumb harshly against your clit and nearly causing your knees to buckle underneath you. “Gonna- fuck.”

His cock twitched in your hand, and with that, he was cumming, shooting his thick load all over your ass and lower back. Miraculously, even as he recovered from his orgasm, he still continued to touch you; his fingers were like magic on your clit, and within a matter of seconds, you, too, were being sent over the edge.

“Oh god, Michael—“

Even during an earth-shattering orgasm like the one you were experiencing, you still were able to notice the way that Michael had switched spots on the glass with you, his large hand enclosing around yours and squeezing.

He didn’t remove his hand from between your thighs until you were twitching and overstimulated, and once he did, he pulled you into a hug, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open and shut again, like a person caught between life and death, when he planted a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m never gonna find anyone else like you,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper. You weren’t sure whether it was a reassurance to you, or a solemn statement of distress.

Either way, you swore you could hear something like sadness behind his words.

iii.

Since Miriam and your father were too preoccupied with their arguing to arrange any family excursions, you and Michael were left to your own devices.

Those next few days in Florida, your life was about as close to a teen romance movie as it could get. You and Michael spent the days exploring the nearby towns, trying out restaurants (it’d taken a startlingly long while for you to convince Michael to try out one of the local cafés for breakfast instead of McDonald’s, which had been his original idea) and going shopping; on one occasion, you shared a joint with Michael before dragging him to the local aquarium, which he’d pretended to be entirely disinterested in (even though you could see the wonder and fear in his eyes whilst staring at the shark exhibit- what would happen if the glass broke? he’d asked, nervously drumming his fingers on the paneling as a particularly large shark swam by).

You shared ice cream with him on the boardwalk, licking the chocolate soft serve that had melted off the cone and onto Michael’s hand off his fingers; you rubbed sunscreen on each other at the beach (although Michael wasn’t nearly as thorough as you were, and most of the time you’d wind up with a nasty sunburn thanks to his negligence); you bought 99-cent popsicles from a vendor, making out with cherry-stained lips while the sun went down.

At night, you’d sit on the beach, sometimes stoned, talking and laughing as the waves rolled in and out on the shore.

It was 3 am on your last night in Florida, and you and Michael had snuck out of the hotel room and walked down to the beach, large checkered blanket and a bottle of red wine in tow (Michael had charmed the woman behind the counter in a sketchy liquor store in order to obtain this). You were sitting side-by-side, thoughts clouded from the effects of the alcohol with your knees drawn to your chest, when a sudden realization washed upon you like one of the rumbling waves breaking against the shore.

You were in love with Michael Langdon.

This was an unwavering, undeniable fact; you were in love with him. You loved him, even the parts of him that, at one point, you had hated. The realization was both peaceful and upsetting.

“Michael,” you said, huddling closer to yourself as a cool breeze cut through the night. What were you going to say to him? You couldn’t very well tell him about the epiphany you’d just had- he’d been on Tinder just a few days ago, for god’s sake. But, still, you felt compelled to say something.

“Hmm?” He stretched out his legs, running his palms up and down his sand-covered calves. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the features of his face, save for the sparkling reflection in his eyes as he looked out towards the ocean.

You licked your lips, taking a swig from the half-empty bottle of wine that had been positioned upright in the sand. You winced at the bittersweet taste washing over your tongue, the blood-colored liquid sloshing noisily against its glass confines as you brought it back down to your side.

“I don’t know,” you said, suddenly feeling stupid. “It’s just- I don’t want this all to be over.”

“Me either,” he said, putting his arm around you and drawing you closer to him. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent of wine and stale cigarettes and salt water like it was oxygen and you’d just been saved from drowning. “I didn’t think I would, but I had a really great time this week.”

You shook your head. “I’m not just talking about this week. I just mean in general. I feel like it’s all ending so soon.”

“Oh.” He took in a breath, an especially large wave hitting the shore with a startling crash. “God, this fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Michael, I-“ I love you. The remaining words settled on the back of your tongue, refusing to roll off, but perhaps it was for the better. “-I think in another life, we could’ve worked out. Could’ve been something more than what we are. You know?”

If only, if only, if fucking only.

“Lucky us, being born in the universe where we’re fucking step siblings,” Michael laughed, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you’d never heard before. “But, (y/n). Even though shit isn’t working out the way we wanted it to, and even though it’s gonna hurt when we both go away to college, I’m still so glad that I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.”

There was only silence for a long moment as Michael reached for the wine bottle and took an indulgent sip. “There’s so much shit I wish could’ve been different,” he said finally, angling his head up towards the velvet blackness of the night sky. “I wish I’d treated you differently. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking scared of feeling something.”

You ran your fingers through the soft sand, forming meaningless patterns there as you listened to Michael open up for what felt like the first time since you’d met him.

“I used to lie awake at night and think of how fucking unfair this all is. That the one girl I’ve ever really wanted is the one girl I can’t have. I used to think if maybe I pushed you away, treated you like shit, that everything would hurt less. But it just hurt me more, seeing you in pain from the shit I put you through. And now I realize that it’s all gonna hurt the same either way. ‘Cause I’ll never have you the way I want.”

You felt a well-known pinching behind your eyes, and you blinked, silently willing away the tears that were threatening to escape. You kept your eyes on the drawings you’d made in the ground, knowing that if you were to look into Michael’s eyes, you’d probably break.

“What’s gonna happen to us, Michael? We can’t just wait for each other while we’re away at college and miss out on life. But god, I wanna be with you,” you said, voice quivering.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I say we just…live our lives. And if it’s meant to be, it will be. One day.”

You nodded, dragging your fingers through the sand and destroying the mindless spirals and swirls you’d formed. “One day.”

“But enough with all that sad shit,” said Michael, taking your chin in hand and moving it so you were looking at him. “What’s important is that we have each other right now. So let’s make the most of that, hm?”

The look in Michael’s eyes told you right away what he meant by making the most of your time together; your cheeks were hot, prickling from the red wine, fingertips burning to touch something. So you did- you grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt, yanking him towards you and placing a haphazard, open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

The kiss was aggressive and feverish; it didn’t take long for Michael to lay you down on the checkered blanket, his hands wandering your body like it belonged to him (and, in a way, it did).

When Michael broke away to catch his breath, panting, you decided to try something new: with all the strength you could muster, you pushed Michael off of you and promptly rolled on top of him instead, straddling him with your knees on either side of his torso.

In the faint glow of the silvery moonlight, you could see an indistinct smirk playing at his lips; it wasn’t often that you were the one to take control, but it was obvious, from the growing protrusion in the front of his pants, that he liked the change.

You leaned down to reattach your lips to his, hips rocking back and forth over his bulge until the friction sent shock waves up your spine. With you bent forward, Michael was easily able to slide his veined hands up the back of your short skirt, taking two greedy fistfuls of your ass.

Almost frantically, you tore your shirt off over your head, not bothering to worry about where it landed. Now, the only thing separating your breasts from the nighttime air was a thin lace bralette, which Michael took to palming you through.

“Fuck, (y/n),” murmured Michael, rolling one of your hardened nipples between two fingers. “You have seriously got the best tits.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you said, a twinge of playful mocking to your voice; you wrapped your fingers around Michael’s wrists, maneuvering them so that both his hands were fondling your breasts.

“Fuck yeah, I think so,” he said, and you only wished there was just a bit more light so you could properly admire him in his disheveled, lustful state.

“Even better than those girls on Tinder you matched with?” you taunted, grinding your hips down hard against Michael’s erection. “I wonder what they’d think about all the times you’ve been balls deep in your stepsister.”

At this, he tightened his grip on your tits, twisting them almost painfully before hoisting up the thin fabric of your bralette so your nipples were exposed. You helped him in removing the garment, pulling it off and throwing it alongside your shirt, never once ceasing the motion of your hips against his clothed, twitching cock.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Michael said, running his thumbs over your nipples. “Otherwise I’d take you over my lap and spank your ass raw for being such a little bitch.”

“And you’re lucky you have a big dick,” you shot back, words catching in your throat when he tugged hard on one of your nipples. “Otherwise I never would’ve given your fuckboy ass the time of day.”

This was a lie, of course, but your lighthearted tone of voice was enough to let him know that you were only messing around.

Michael scoffed. “No, I think you’re the one who’s lucky that I have a big dick, considering that you’re a total fucking cock-hungry slut.”

You stifled a laugh. Well, he’s not wrong.

“Is that a complaint?” you said, lips quirking as you scooted your body slightly downward, giving yourself room to pull Michael’s now-fully hard cock out. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you took the pulsing length in hand, moving your thin panties to the side and repositioning yourself so that the head of Michael’s cock was nestled just barely against your entrance.

Michael shook his head rapidly, a throaty grunt passing his lips. “Obviously- fuck- not.”

It was almost amusing to you, the way you and Michael had gone from having a heartfelt conversation to teasing each other relentlessly, but you supposed that was what you loved about your dynamic anyway. Unable to hold off any longer, you guided Michael’s cock inside you, gliding down easily on his length until he was fully seated inside. Your mouth fell open, and as you began to properly ride him, he brought his hands to grip your hips with a tight, bruising hold.

“Fuck, Michael,” you sighed, tits bouncing as you rolled your hips forward, increasing your momentum. Michael slid one hand from your hip to your inner thigh, pinching the tender skin before bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.

A pleasant, salt water-scented breeze passed by as you rode Michael, further disheveling your hair, which you ran your fingers through; the lewd noises of your body connecting with Michael’s were overtaken by the unmistakable sounds of the tide.

“Good girl, riding my cock so fucking good,” Michael breathed, lifting up his free hand so he could push two fingers into your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered at the salt of his skin, lips instinctively wrapping around his calloused digits and sucking.

Swirling your tongue over Michael’s fingers, you continued riding him, swaying your hips in figure-eight motions; the thick girth of his cock stretched your tight walls, and from this angle, you could practically feel him in your stomach.

The pad of Michael’s thumb pressed against your clit again, and as electric pleasure rippled up your spine, it took everything inside you not to cum right then and there. Your pussy was clenching tight around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go—you didn’t want to be apart from him. Not yet.  

For a second, you could see every contoured feature of Michael’s face illuminated in the pale light of the moon, the exaggerated shadows and highlights coming together to form an image that was almost otherworldly. His eyes were droopy-lidded, so much so that you might’ve thought his eyes were shut if it weren’t for the glint of his pupils; he’d sucked his full lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on the rosy pink flesh as he admired your curved, supple figure on top of him.

I love him, you thought, matter-of-fact, as he pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and dragged them down between your tits, leaving a shiny trail of saliva in their wake.

I love him, you thought, bowing your body forward to kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as you hurried your pace on his cock.

I love him.

Why the fuck did you have to love him? It wasn’t fair. Your insides churned with jealousy at the thought of all the other teenage girls who were currently experiencing their first love; you thought of the constant Instagram posts of girls in new, happy relationships, the public displays of affection against lockers between classes. Those things, so seemingly insignificant, would never become a part of your reality (or at least not any reality involving Michael).

In another life you’d have Michael over for dinner to meet your father, holding his hand under the table when you’d notice his thigh jiggling anxiously. You’d kiss him freely without the underlying fear, swirling deep in the pit of your belly, that someone might catch you. You’d be his prom date, match your gown to his bow tie and take awkward pictures with him, his strong arms holding you from behind.

In another life, things would be normal. In another life, you and Michael would be happy together.

“(Y/n),” groaned Michael; the sound of his raspy voice calling your name was enough to send you over the edge, bracing your tense body with one hand next to his head as you rode out your orgasm.

You were able to move even faster now, both of his hands holding your ass as you leaned far enough forward that you could bury your head in his neck. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you was almost too much now that you’d orgasmed, but you didn’t stop, eager to witness Michael drift into his own realm of bliss.

“Fuck—“ was all that could leave Michael’s lips before he came, using your ass to hold you in place as he spilled his warm load inside of you. You  didn’t move, keeping your face by his neck so you could listen to him catch his breath.

When you finally picked yourself up, Michael looked down to his shoulder and furrowed his eyebrows. “Were you just crying?”

Fuck. Yes, yes you were. Tears had apparently leaked from the corners of your eyes without you realizing, wetting his neck and the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. You said nothing, pulling off him to retrieve the clothing articles that you’d discarded in the sand earlier.

“Just a little,” you said, embarrassed, shaking the sand off your bralette and putting it on. “Red wine makes me angsty.”

“Oh.” There was a pregnant pause as Michael cleared his throat. “C’mon, (y/n), it’s not so bad.”

There was wavering uncertainty veiled beneath the confidence of his words, and you could tell he was trying to convince himself of this sentiment just as much as he was trying to convince you. Your back was to him as you slipped your shirt over your head, willing yourself not to start crying again.

“(Y/n)?”

His hand was on your back, the tips of his fingers circling lightly over the fabric of your shirt. You turned to face him, slowly. “Yes?”

“I…” He halted for a moment, contemplating something. “I really, really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone before.”

“I really, really like you too.” Somewhere, a chorus of crickets were unknowingly performing a custom symphony for your own teen romance movie moment. Michael took your hand in his, lacing his long fingers through yours, and you swallowed.

He looked down at your joined hands, an almost solemn look on his face. “Just. I don’t want you to forget, all right? No matter what happens.”

No matter what happens. You didn’t want to think of what he could mean by that.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, as if to shield your words from the ocean’s prying ears. “I won’t forget.”

And that, you knew, was an irrefutable fact.

iv.

Late August hit you like a truck, coming by so unexpectedly that you thought surely you’d been caught in some kind of time slip. Your college move-in date was a week before Michael’s, and so Michael had spent the days leading up to your departure helping you pack (he’d also, of course, made plenty of time for “breaks” throughout the process, one of which consisted of you being fucked on the floor amidst the vast array of brown moving boxes).

Your bedroom was now a shell of what it’d once been- the comfortable teenage clutter you’d been so accustomed to was now gone, and you’d finally gotten around to throwing out the pictures and stickers you’d had on your wall since freshman year. It was depressing, hollow.

On the morning of your move-in date, your father helped you bring your belongings to the car and load the trunk. The car ride was going to be fairly long, and you were dreading it, especially since Michael wasn’t coming along. He had his own matters to attend to, what with his own move-in date creeping near, and the car would be far too crowded with all your things there anyway.

You were scheduled to leave at 9, and downstairs you could hear your father and Miriam shuffling around as they prepared for the trip. You sat at the edge of your bed, surrounded by the pale purple sheets you’d had for as long as you could remember, idly scraping the toe of your sneaker back and forth along the wooden floor.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of this, but when had you ever been ready for anything life had thrown your way? You hadn’t been ready to fall in love with your stepbrother, and yet that had happened all the same.

From across the hall, Michael’s bedroom door cracked open, and out he came in his flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt (which now perfectly complemented the slight summertime hue of bronze to his skin), blond hair in beautiful disarray. Your heart ached- you were going to miss seeing him in the morning, all sleepy and soft, voice pitched lower than usual from sleep.

You recalled all the times you’d passed him as he stood at the counter in the bathroom, brushing his teeth; he’d look at you with a lazy half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his elbows resting on the edge of the sink. He always looked so handsome even when he wasn’t trying, a quality you almost envied him for.

He noticed you watching him from the corner of your bed as he approached the doorway, waving at you as he balanced his shoulder against the frame.

“‘Morning,” he said, his bleary-eyed gaze meeting yours. He looked tired, dark rings prevalent beneath his crystal blue eyes, and you briefly wondered if he’d gotten much sleep the night before. “You should be grateful that I got up at the ass crack of dawn to say goodbye to you.”

“The ass crack of dawn? Michael, it’s 8:45,” you said, and if you really tried, you could almost pretend that this was a regular conversation between the two of you, and not the very last time you’d be interacting face-to-face until November.

“Yeah, well, 8:45 is the ass crack of dawn to me,” he said, and you stood up, meeting him halfway in the middle of your barren room. He flashed you a grin, but there wasn’t much happiness behind it, and you could see that he was… uncomfortable? Sad? Angry?— you couldn’t quite tell— from the way he’d folded his arms in front of his stomach. “So yeah. I, uh, wanted to say goodbye. And also remind you not to fuck too many frat guys. You could, like, catch something.”

“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise anything,” you joked, following the sentence with a forced-sounding chuckle. “Bye, Michael.”

You stepped forward, winding your arms around Michael’s waist and placing your head against his chest; you could just barely hear his heart beating, the warmth of his skin touching your cheek even through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head, strong arms holding you to him in an unyielding embrace. “So much.”

There were too many things you wanted to say, racing through your mind so quickly that it’d be impossible to articulate them aloud. Instead, you let out a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as you tried your hardest to immerse yourself completely in Michael’s touch. Sometimes, there didn’t need to be any words for you to understand each other.

“Don’t be sad about this, (y/n). When you’re at college, you’re gonna meet so many guys who are so much better than I am. And you’re gonna wonder why you ever were hung up on a dumbass like me.” His tone was lighthearted, but you knew better than to really believe that he was unbothered. “But I don’t think I’ll ever find someone better than you. I’m so fucking lucky that you gave me as many chances as you did. I didn’t deserve them.”

“You’re wrong,” you said, pulling away so you could look pointedly into Michael’s eyes. God, his eyes were beautiful, and you drank in the moment, knowing this was your last chance to really look into them face-to-face. “I gave you those chances because even though you acted like a total fucking asshole, I still knew there was good in you. I could just… feel it.”

He cocked an eyebrow skepticall y. “No, you gave me all those second chances because I give good head and have a big dick.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe those were contributing factors, but they weren’t the only reasons I stuck around.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, licking his lips and settling his hands on your hips. “For the record, your pussy really is my favorite. Like, I wasn’t just saying that.”

“I’m honored.”

The interaction was cut short by the sound of your father calling you from downstairs, indicating that it was time to leave, and your heart sank deep into your stomach. Standing up on the tips of your toes, you planted a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying out into the hall, waving over your shoulder as you went.

“Bye, (y/n),” Michael said, not moving from where he stood in your bedroom. He’d dug his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shoulders slumped forward as he watched you go. For a moment, you wished you’d hugged him for longer. “See you in November.”

“See you,” you called back, imitating nonchalance to the best of your ability, only averting your gaze when you felt tears wobbling along your waterline, threatening to overflow and spill down your cheeks.

In that last moment before you turned, you could almost swear that he had tears in his eyes, too.

v.

When you finally made your way up those familiar porch steps again, the November air chilling you slightly even despite the thick sweater you wore, you felt like an entirely different person.

Those first few months of college had been a blur; your life was far more interesting than it’d ever been while you were in high school (if you didn’t count the whole ‘fucking your stepbrother’ thing), with a surplus of boys at your disposal at all times. You’d gotten perhaps a bit carried away with the dating and partying and hookups, but you figured you were simply making up for all the experiences you’d missed out on in high school.

Michael was a thought that you trained yourself to keep tucked away. During those first few weeks, you’d spent several nights crying yourself to sleep, the stiff dorm room bed so uninviting compared to the way Michael’s arms had always felt around you. At parties, you’d scan the crowds for boys with blond hair and blue eyes, hoping that one of them could temporarily stand in for Michael during your time away from him. None of them fulfilled the requirements, of course- you’d come to realize early on that nobody was quite as good as Michael Langdon. It took a while for you to stop searching for Michael in every boy you became acquainted with, but with practice, you became rather skilled in the art of forgetting.

You and Michael kept in contact, albeit only sometimes. His messages to you were comprised mainly of memes he’d found on Instagram that he thought you’d appreciate, along with the occasional drunk text late at night (‘Cna you send me a pci of your tits/??? Lmfao’ was one of your favorite messages from him that you’d received thus far). It made you feel special to know that he was thinking of you, even despite being surrounded by girls like you assumed he probably was.

You tried not to think of him too much, though- you knew you’d drive yourself crazy if you did.

When Thanksgiving time rolled around, you were confronted with the fact that you’d be seeing Michael again for the first time in months, a prospect that ignited your nerves far more than you were willing to admit. As excited as you were to see him, you also couldn’t help but worry: what if he announced that he’d found a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to you anymore? What if you weren’t attracted to him anymore?

It probably would be easier for the both of you if things played out that way, but you didn’t want things to be easy. It was unrealistic, but part of you was praying that things would be exactly as they were before you’d gone away.

Your hand trembled a bit as you raised it to the doorbell, and you braced yourself before jamming your finger into the button. From inside the house, you heard the muffled, off-key tone as it resounded throughout the upstairs area, followed by bounding footsteps down the stairs that you pinpointed as belonging to your father.

The front swung open and there was your father, a wide smile stretched across his face as he ushered you inside, taking it upon himself to bring in your travel bag for you. “(Y/n)! Finally! How was the train ride?”

“Not bad,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. As soon as you were apart, you started up the stairs, your pulse quickening as you came closer and closer to the moment you’d been anticipating for months. “Did Michael get back already?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

Your heart skipped at this revelation; your legs couldn’t bring you to the top of the stairs fast enough, and, sensing your heightened enthusiasm, your father chuckled from behind you. “Hey, hold on a second. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you said breathlessly, the rubber soles of your sneakers making noisy contact with the wooden upstairs floor. You supposed that maybe you should’ve spent more time greeting your father, but you could no longer contain yourself- you needed to see Michael.

Leaving your bag at the top of the stairs, you hurried to the hallway where your bedrooms were located, unable to stifle your eagerness. You felt like a starved animal, finally being presented with food by a pair of benevolent hands, and you were ready to devour.

You didn’t bother knocking on Michael’s door when you approached it, bursting in with such force that you stumbled over your feet. The room was dim, what with the blinds being open so only a few rays of late-afternoon sunlight could peek through; seated in front of his once-cluttered empty desk, now occupied only by a laptop, was Michael, massive headphones positioned over his ears as he fixated on whatever stupid game he was currently playing (does he still play fortnite? you wondered).

The sound of your intrusion was loud enough to catch his attention, and as his head turned from his computer screen to your face, something shifted in his eyes. Immediately, he tore off his headphones, jumping to his feet so abruptly that they clattered to the ground. “Holy fuck, (y/n).”

It was evident, from the way you fell easily into his arms, that the attraction hadn’t faded. If anything, the distance apart seemed to have only made the magnetic connection between you grow even stronger.

Your lips clashed together feverishly (you had no idea who had been the one to initiate this— it seemed that you’d both moved in perfect unison into one another), hands wandering freely over each other’s bodies and teeth bumping against teeth. When you broke away, a string of saliva stretching and breaking between your faces, Michael beamed down at you.

The slight layer of baby fat that had once rounded out Michael’s cheeks appeared to have dissipated, his cheekbones even more pronounced than you remembered them being. His sharp jaw was shadowed with the smallest touch of brown stubble, (which you assumed was there because he’d been too lazy to shave), but you thought the more mature look suited him well.

“Jesus, (y/n), I missed you.” His voice was like smooth velvet; you’d inject it into your bloodstream if you could. “You’re even more fucking beautiful than I remembered.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d be grossed out by my freshman fifteen,”  you laughed.

“Fuck no. The fatter the ass, the better,” he said with a devious smirk, running his long fingers through his overgrown mop of blond hair. He smelled just like you remembered, a mixture of cinnamon gum and cigarettes and cologne (and the faintest hint of marijuana, of course), and you wished you could bottle up his scent and take it with you.

“So you’re still a fuckboy, I see,” you teased, twisting the front of Michael’s t-shirt in your hands and pulling him towards you. “Some things just never change, I guess.”

“Guess not.” He was speaking lowly now, assuming the smooth tone he always used when he was attempting to seduce you, and as if on cue came a dull, throbbing ache between your legs. “I wonder if your pussy is as good as I remember?”

His fingers found their way to the bottom of your sweater, fumbling with the chunky fabric and swiftly maneuvering it off over your head. You mirrored his actions, pulling off his shirt and exposing his torso, pressing your lips back against his with urgency once his upper half had been disrobed.

“Fuck…” you breathed against his parted mouth, palming the growing erection in the front of his pale gray sweatpants (your favorite pair of pants that he owned). “Need you to fuck me, Mikey…”

“Is that right?” He tilted his head to one side, kissing you deeply as he bent his knees, using his own weight as leverage to lift you up. You intertwined your ankles behind Michael’s back, securing your place in his toned arms as he carried you over to his bed; the vulgar, wet sound of your tongues melding together filled the room as he laid you down on his checkered comforter, your legs still wrapped snugly around him. “Did my baby sis miss having her pussy split on her big bro’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you purred; there truly was no man in existence better at dirty talking than Michael. You tensed in excitement when he began fumbling with the top button of your jeans, proceeding to deftly work the form-fitting denim material down your thighs once he’d freed it from its hold. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Impatiently, you reached between your bodies, your fingers coming upon the thick outline of his bulge as he peppered your throat with sloppy kisses. You moved your hand up to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging the elastic as far back as you could; this resulted in him chuckling against your flesh, your body erupting in goosebumps at the sensation.

“So needy,” he mumbled, the vibrations of his plump lips traveling straight down to your cunt. “Did you touch yourself when you were away at school, thinking of me? Thinking of how good I touch you, how hard I make you cum?”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, rolling your hips in melodic time with his, his clothed cock making friction against your thinly veiled pussy. “C’mon, just fuck me already. Please.”

“I like it when you beg,” he said, smug, standing so he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers, putting his long, weighted cock on display for you. You lifted your knees up for him, and in one swift motion he stripped you of your flimsy black thong. “Beg me again.”

You squirmed, sliding your flat palm down your stomach so you could touch yourself between your parted thighs; slowly, you coated your fingers with your own sticky essence, looking up at Michael from under a canopy of thick lashes. “Fuck me, Michael. I need you.”

“Ask nicely,” he chided, hoisting your thigh up to drape around his waist, eyes darkening as he observed your fingers spreading your slick wetness around your folds.

“Pleeaaaaseeee, Mikey,” you pleaded, syllables so drawn out that it almost sounded like you were singing. “It’s been so long.”

“Fuck.” He brought his lower lip into his mouth, sucking for a moment as he lined the flushed head of his cock up with your dripping entrance. When he released it, it was several shades darker than it’d been before, completely swollen and glossy with spit. “I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I saw you.”

Taking a firm grip of your thighs, he slid effortlessly into your tight heat, your jaw unhinging at the intrusion; you’d definitely be feeling him for the next few days, his thick shaft stretching out your narrow walls to the point where it was almost painful. You liked it, though, liked the delicious burn that only he could create, reminding you of who you belonged to.

“Shit,” he hissed, pausing momentarily to compose himself before assuming a deep, hard rhythm to fuck you with. “You’re so fucking tight. Must not’ve fucked anyone as big as me while you were away.”

All you could manage was a broken moan, your head lolling back towards the ceiling. He bottomed out inside you, bringing himself down to press his chest against yours, indulging in the feel of your warm, wet cunt as it spasmed around his massive length. When you started whining for more, he retracted his hips back until only the head of his cock was inside you, slamming back inside so hard that you were sent halfway up the bed.

“Oh god, Michael…” Your fingernails scraped aimlessly along the warm skin of his back, eyelids flickering open and shut in a fucked-out daze. You’d slept with a handful of guys at college, but none of them even came close to fucking you the way Michael did. He was just… special.

Fuck, I love him.

The thought startled you; you’d almost been able to forget about the little epiphany you’d had, that night in Florida when you and Michael sat side-by-side by the ocean. But now that you were with him— under him, taking every last agonizing inch of his cock, it became obvious that those feelings had remained stagnant.

After all the boys you’d been through at college, you still loved him.

God, were you fucked.

“Missed my baby girl so much,” Michael murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear and peering down at you. His forehead was glowing, the sides of his face framed with cute, damp curls of blond hair; he was so beautiful, you thought. How had you survived so long without him?

He impaled you again with a sharp upwards thrust, a string of expletives passing your lips and mixing with the lewd sounds of sex swimming through the air.  “I missed you— fuck!— too.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” he said, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and running his tongue along the salty skin. “Your pussy is fucking dripping for me.”

“Keep going,” you panted, wetting your chapped lips; with each brutal thrust of Michael’s cock, you bucked your hips forward to meet him halfway, desperate for all that he had to offer. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how I split you open?” His hips pounded against yours with a bruising intensity, his chest pinning you down as you writhed beneath his lean frame. His voice was becoming hoarse, breaths short and choppy, letting you know that he was close.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, more…” Your affirmations were like a prayer, encouraging Michael to fuck you even deeper, his torso making electric contact with your clit as he moved his body in time with yours. “Make me cum, Mikey, please..”

The wind was knocked from your lungs each time he pumped his length into you, and by the time the coil in your stomach was unwinding, you were struggling to catch your breath. You ran your hands through Michael’s sweat-soaked hair, letting the strands stretch around your fingers as you tugged at the root; Your toes curled when Michael administered a particularly hard thrust inside you, your lips falling open in a silent scream; there was a burst of brilliant colors behind your eyelids as you finally reached your climax, your thighs shaking as they clasped firmly around Michael’s waist.

Like a perfect teen-movie cliché, Michael came just as you did; the feeling of his hot load as it spilled deep inside your cunt was a welcomed one, and your spongey inner walls instinctively clamped down, milking his cock for all it was worth.

With a throaty grunt, Michael pulled out of you, his cum dribbling crudely down your inner thigh and onto his bedspread, which he didn’t appear to pay any attention to. Lying down beside you, he sighed, bare chest shining with slick perspiration.

“I missed doing that,” Michael rasped, eyes focused up towards the ceiling rather than on you.

“So did I,” you said, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of Michael’s torso, watching his stomach rise and fall with each breath he took. “I can’t wait to have you all Christmas break.”

Michael’s lips turned downwards at the corners, his eyebrows knitting together in a pained display. “Oh. Yeah.”

It seemed as though he’d wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips shut into a thin line, Adam’s apple bobbing. What the hell? All at once you felt nauseous- there was something about the way he’d said those two words that made you very, very uneasy.

You sat up, your mind already starting to overflow with horrid possibilities. “What, Michael?”

“I, um. I have to tell you something.” Michael’s eyes darted throughout the room before settling on his palms. You frowned, mouth going dry at his apparent reluctance to talk to you, thoughts racing in all directions to try and pinpoint what exactly he might say.

“Michael…”

“So. Um.” He was stalling, extending his arms up so his palms were flat on his forehead, still refusing to look at you as he contemplated his words. “So you remember over the summer when I spilled Red Bull on my laptop?”

You raised an eyebrow. Where exactly was he going with this? “Yeah?”

“And remember how I would borrow my mom’s laptop to play video games while I was waiting for it to get repaired?”

“Yes, I remember. Can you just get to the point?” You were growing impatient, the anxiety increasing with each additional second that Michael continued to leave you in the dark.

“Okay, well…” He inhaled sharply. “I was borrowing her laptop one night and ended up looking at the search history because, well… you can probably guess why. Anyway. I ended up seeing all these searches for, like, new apartments and divorce lawyers.”

Oh shit. Divorce lawyers? Was he about to say what you were thinking he was about to say? “You mean…?”

Michael held up a hand as if to say let me finish, and you held your tongue. “So like, I asked her about it. And she told me that her and your dad are, like, splitting up or whatever. But she told me not to mention anything about it in case they ended up working shit out.”

You didn’t understand— wasn’t this good news? If your parents divorced, wouldn’t you finally be able to be with Michael the way you wanted? You forced down the giddiness that started to bubble up from your stomach and into your throat, knowing that there had to be a catch if Michael was acting so serious.

“So our parents are getting a divorce?”

“Well… there’s more.” He licked his lips, finally gathering the courage to look at you, the expression on his face so grim that it scared you a little. “She found an apartment in California. And she’s moving us there next month.”

California!?

No, this couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? This was perhaps even worse than the predicament you were already in. If Michael moved to California, it was pretty fucking likely that you’d never see him again.

“I… what? And you’ve known all this for how long!?” Your voice was pitched several octaves higher now, eyes watering uncontrollably, and you felt as though you were on the brink of having a total fucking meltdown.

“I always thought there was a chance they’d get things worked out, or that my mom would change her mind about moving so far away. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I already knew you were sad about us going away to college, so I just thought-”

“-Answer the question, Michael! How long have you known this for?” Hot, angry tears were falling down your face and onto your bare chest, your entire body shaking with an overwhelming mixture of rage and despair.

He sighed. “Since August.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. How could he have hidden this from you for so long? “And you never thought to tell me? So I could at least come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never see you again once you move?”

“I didn’t wanna ruin the rest of our time together,” he said softly, eyes glossy with tears that were still yet to fall. “I fucked up, okay? I should’ve told you as soon as I found out. But I kept thinking that maybe something would change, and…I don’t know. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“Fuck,” you mumbled. Your limbs felt numb and heavy, your heart hollow. “Why did your mom have to choose fucking California, of all places?”

“I dunno. I think it has to do with this weird religion thing she’s into,” he said. “Look, (y/n), if I had any choice, I’d stay here. But you know I can’t afford my own place right now.”

“I know. It’s just-“ you collapsed backwards, your back making contact with the bed below with a soft thud. “This is so fucking unfair. We’re finally able to be together- like, really be together. But of course there has to be a catch.”

“Remember what I said, (y/n)? How if things are meant to be, they will be?” It sounded to you like Michael was attempting to make sense of a senseless situation, but you let him speak, somewhat comforted by his words. “I only have to stay in California until I can afford my own place. And I’ll still be going to the same college, so we won’t be too far from each other during the school year.”

Your college was a five hour drive away from Michael’s. Would he really be willing to make such a long trip up to see you? Would you be willing to take a trip to see him, with the new knowledge looming on your conscience that he would no longer be an arm’s length away once the school year was up? You wanted to be optimistic, but how could you be? A fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes, blurring your vision, but your cries faded to soft whimpers when Michael pulled you up against his chest.

You tried not to remind yourself of the fact that this would likely be one of the last times you’d be able to feel him there against you, one of the last times you’d absorb the heat from his skin, his distinct scent overtaking you like a natural aphrodisiac, intoxicating you.

You tried to reason with reality: if the universe had tried so hard to keep you apart all this time, maybe you and Michael being together had simply not been written in the stars (or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself— how could a connection so strong not be meant to be?, you asked yourself dejectedly). The way you felt for Michael was special, unlike anything else you’d ever experienced before. He was a natural high, a gust of fresh springtime air, a golden ray of good in a gray-black world of bad.

But, as the saying went, all good things must come to an end. Don’t they?

Perhaps you’d always known, in the very back of your mind, that things would never work out. Perhaps you’d always known that your heart would wind up broken (no, not broken— incinerated). The cards had never been in your favor, and there had been a hundred million warning signs that you’d blatantly ignored time and time again.

But it hurt.

And you doubted it would ever stop hurting. The pain of losing Michael might one day fade from a stabbing agony to a dull ache, but that initial wound would likely never heal completely.

The only thing left to do now was stay entangled in Michael’s warmth for as long as possible, and make weary peace with the tragic ending your time with Michael had come to.

“If we survived being stepsiblings, we can survive this,” Michael said, his lips against your knotted hair, firm arms holding your naked body with a delicate tenderness that you weren’t used to. “You know that when I want something, I make sure that I get it. And what I want, (y/n), is you.”

You nodded, curling into Michael, your bodies fitting together like two perfectly-cut puzzle pieces.

“And I’m gonna have you.” You felt his hand smooth your hair out, and then he placed a kiss on your forehead, as if to imprint his words into your brain. “One day.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and all at once you were lost in a rushing sea of crystal blue, like the one that had lapped against the shore that night you’d fallen in love. As you reached up to caress Michael’s porcelain cheek, thumb grazing the rough stubble that had gathered along his jaw, you couldn’t help but believe him.

One day.

[newobsessioneveryweek]

Sleep

I had LOADS of fun writing this 10k masterpiece with @jinmukangwrites. She’s an amazing writer and if you haven’t heard of her I suggest you check out her blog.

Inspired by a post made on @linkeduniversetweets (asked by @toschiworlds) 

Brief spoiler-free summary: The Links spend a few days at Lon Lon Ranch during which Time manages to get himself concussed.

Enjoy

The Links had endured countless battles, vicious monsters, cascades of blood, and cold, unforgiving nights in the wilderness for several months but what laid before them offered the heroes a vital reprieve.

Blue skies and a gentle breeze greeted the Hero of Time when he climbed the small hill leading to his home in the early afternoon. The sun shone brightly upon him, almost unbearably warm, but a comforting feeling nonetheless. The smell of hay perfumed the air and left a lingering sweetness. But the sight of the woman that greeted him made the experience one hundred times sweeter. Time swung Malon once before leaning in and leaving a gentle kiss on her lips, relishing the bliss the reunion brought. The pair embraced and the remaining heroes either coed over the joyous moment or turned away to give the couple their privacy.

“I’ve missed you,” Time whispered into Malon’s shoulder. Malon could only barely stop herself from tearing up at her elation at hearing her husband’s voice.

“I missed you too,” she responded, her voice cracking slightly.

Lon Lon Ranch had become a haven for the travelling band of heroes and, though their job was far from finished, the Links felt that their abundant efforts could be rewarded with the few days they were able to spend in safety behind the walls of the ranch. But that luxury didn’t come without its small price.

***

“Chores!” Malon slammed a metal pail on the kitchen table, causing the Links who were having breakfast to jump in surprise. A beaming smile adorned her bright face as she looked around the room at each individual face.

Wild nearly dropped his sausage and Wind gasped the water he was drinking down the wrong pipe at the sudden raucous noise, causing him to cough excessively. “Who’s milking the cows and who’s feeding the cuccos,” Malon asked.

The Links around the table glanced at each other before quickly responding. “I’ll milk the cows,” They volunteered in unison. Malon laughed and took the bucket back. “If you can’t decide I’ll dish out the work myself. Wild, you can stay with me and wash dishes-”

“Lucky bastard,” Legend said.

“Language young man,” Malon chided. Legend immediately shut his mouth and listened. Malon tapped her chin before she turned to Legend. “Legend, you’re on cucco duty.”

“What? Why?”

“Because of that potty mouth of yours.” Beside Legend Warrior snickered. Malon huffed. “Alright Warrior, you can help him.”

“Oh, come on,” Warrior complained, which prompted a laugh from Legend in return.

“WInd, you can feed the pigs.”

“Yes,” Wind cheered. He liked the pigs.

“Twilight, you and Sky are on shovel duty,”

“What’s shovel- oh,” Sky then realised the odd job he’d been given and cringed.

“Yeah,” Twilight said.

“Hyrule and Four, hmm, you two are on milking duty with me.”

“Aw, yeah! I love milking duty,” Hyrule exclaimed.

“I don’t. The milk always gets on me,” Four grumbled.

“Well, maybe you should get a higher stool,” Legend joked.

Four stuck his tongue out at the remark and took the offered bucket from Malon once he cleared his plate.

“What about Time?”

“What about Time- I mean Link?”

“What’s his job?”

 “Oh! I sent him to fix up one of the stables in the old barn. We’re planning on breeding the horses so we need more space.”

 “Cool! Epona needs more friends,” Wind said excitedly. “Can I name the babies, please?” Wind practically begged her, and Malon easily granted his wish.

“Of course,” Malon said simply, smiling widely. “There’ll be plenty of names to give next time you happen to roll around our neck of the woods.”

***

“Let’s see,” Time muttered to himself as he took inventory of the tools on the shelf in front of him. “Wrench, saw. What’s that called again?” Time snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name of the strangle apparatus. “Gimlet,” he exclaimed. Time had long since finished his repair job, but he decided to make a list of their belongings while he was busy. He liked order and he knew Malon would appreciate the extra effort. Just knowing what you had made missing items easier to identify.

After he was done counting the hand tools he moved on to the gardening section of the barn where the heavier instruments were kept. Hoes and shovels, rakes and spades, pickaxes and regular axes hung neatly on hooks right above the Hero of Time, making it easy for him to see each individual item. “Okay, what do we have here?” Time took note of all the different items hung on the wall, jotting them down on his bulleted list as he went along the row.

“Alright, that seems to be- huh?” Time whirled around just in Time to see Epona barreling towards him at top speed. Her eyes held a spark of panic, she moved frantically as if trying to escape something. It all happened in a split second.

Epona charged, ramming straight into the startled hero and carrying him into the wall, causing the tools hung on the short, narrow hooks to fall on top of him. Epona whinnied in surprise and ran away from the scene, leaving the Hero of Time crumpled on the floor.

Time was faintly aware of the serious head wound he had sustained as a result of multiple sharp, heavy objects landing on his head. It took him approximately two seconds to realise how weak he felt and that if he moved his head even slightly overwhelming nausea would wash over him. His ears were ringing, his head ached and he felt absolutely helpless.

Sleepiness slowly began to creep upon him but Time fought the feeling with his entire being. He would spend his energy trying to avoid the inevitability of sleep. He had to fight it! If he didn’t… he would not be the same when he woke up.

In his stupor, he hadn’t realised the day’s coming to an end and so the feeble hero laid helpless on the floor of the old barn, desperately trying to stay awake. 

-o-o-o-o-

"This brings me back," Twilight said, shoving the shovel down in his hands for the dozenth time that evening. He dug the blade of the shovel under a particularly large pile of manure and lifted it so he can dump in an ever pulling wheelbarrow graciously provided by Malon.

Beside him, Sky grunted as he too worked a shovel into the ground. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and then continued. "This brings you back?" 

"Oh yeah. Growing up, I didn't have parents. I had to get money to fend for myself by doing odd jobs for the people of the village I lived in" Twilight explained, "one of those jobs was mucking up the fields. Didn't enjoy it at the time, but it was good and honest work for a child. Now that I'm older, I help out with herding and taking care of the animals. We have the younger kids cleaning the fields now."

"Odd jobs where I came from normally included carrying books," Sky said somewhat bitterly as he unloaded his shovel into the wheelbarrow, "or cleaning blackboards."

Twilight let out a chuckle and stuck his shovel into the ground, looking around the field to admire their work. Malon did a fantastic job with caring for the ranch herself, but she was probably overworked with her husband gone off on another adventure, and seeing her field all clean-looking filled Twilight's chest with pride. 

"So, what now?" Sky asked, looking at the pile of manure with a wrinkled nose. Twilight shrugged and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. 

"I'm sure Malon has a place for us to put this so we can let it decompose."

"Oh," Sky hummed. "How long does that take?"

Twilight shrugged. "Depends. We can see if Malon wants us to throw any unused crops in there to help the process, but, either way, it should be fine to use as fertilizer by the time fields are ready-"

"Wait, did you say fertilizer?" Sky squawked and Twilight grinned. 

"Oh yeah, city boy. Every farmer does it."

"U-uses poo to-"

"There you boys are," a new voice chimed in and Twilight turned to find Malon walking towards them, a smile on her face. "All done?"

"Yes ma'am," Twilight nodded while Sky stood there gaping. "Was just wanderin' where you wanted us to put this?"

"Oh, we have a spot for it by the mill, that way it doesn't stink up the house while it bakes," Malon said with a wink.

"I think I'm going to barf," Sky said, clutching his stomach and both Twilight and Malon burst into fits of laughter. "This isn't funny! I'm never going to be able to eat a vegetable ever again!" 

"Oh honey, wait until you hear what we feed the pigs," Malon joked, and Twilight would have laughed along as Sky cried out in horror, covering his ears, but a different sound met Twilight's ears that took every drop of his attention away. 

As a goat herder, there are sounds that he was trained to recognize. One of those was the sound of frantic, escaping hooves. 

He turned his eyes away from Malon who was punching Sky's shoulder jokingly and looked towards the sound, only to see a horse raging right towards them. 

Epona. 

Instinctively—ditching the wheelbarrow—he rushed away from Malon—who at this point had noticed the startled horse as well—and threw his hands up, calling out. She was barreling right towards them, ears pinned back in panic and mouth loudly panting, until she reared up and cried out right before she could run into him. 

Something scared Epona, if the way she remained agitated until Malon pushed her way through and began to sing a song, something scared her badly. 

"Is she okay?" Sky asked hesitantly. 

"I don't know," Malon said softly, rubbing Epona's mane with gentle movements. "What scared ya, girl?"

"If Epona is anything like my horse, nothing small," Twilight mused, he too joining in to stroke Epona's neck. 

"We should find the others," Sky mumbled, pulling out his sword. Twilight agreed with a nod and unsheathed his own, the joking and good mood a mere fading memory now.

"If you don't mind, ma'am," Twilight said and gave his most assuring smile towards Malon, "you should head inside. I'll take care of Epona."

Malon looked like she was about to argue but then her shoulders sagged. "Bring everyone back safe. I'm sure it's just a wild animal."

-o-o-o-o-

"That'a'gal," Twilight hummed, leading Epona closer towards the stable, one hand still with his sword. Epona seemed to have calmed down some, but he's still worried about her. What could scare a horse that has been through so much?

He sighed and took another step towards the stable, and then he was knocked painfully off his feet by something appearing out from the ground. He landed harshly on his back with a grunt, just managing to avoid biting his tongue, but the sound of Epona's loud neigh was enough to get him quickly back onto his feet. He's back on solid ground just in time to jump to the side to avoid a fleshy, slug-like body and it's sharp pincers. 

A leaver. An almost true constant between worlds. Annoying, fast, and persistent. However, they are normally found in the desert. 

Twilight would wonder why this leaver was here if it wasn't for the disgusting inky tone to its body. 

Infected. 

Twilight jumped into battle without another second to lose. He didn't even have time to regret sending Sky to the opposite side of the field to search for the others before the leaver burrowed its strong body into the ground. Epona stomped the dirt with her hooves, whinnying loudly and angrily and he understood why she was so startled now. Any horse would be startled by something popping up from below them. 

A section of ground popped up a bit and Twilight was on it in a heartbeat, jumping forward and sending his sword down. He could hear an agonized gurgle come from the creature but it wasn't done yet. It shifted and pushed forward, knocking him back. He lost grip of his sword and with a startled yell he was once again on his back. He just barely had enough time to look up for the creature but didn't have any more to spend on defending himself when it raced toward him. 

Then, four raging hooves stomped on it and kept stomping on it until it was a gross pile of mush. 

Twilight relaxed against the ground, forcing his heart to calm down. 

Well, that happened. 

He shoved himself once again to his feet and grabbed his sword, glaring at the creature now turned pudding. Epona didn't look like she'd calm down again anytime soon if the way she was huffing and snarling and stomping her feet indicated anything. So, he decided he'd let her be and go inside the stable, remembering that the old man should be in there. He could calm her down better.

He walked towards the door, gave a small knock, and opened it. "Hey, Time?" He called, the smell of horse meeting his nose. There was no answer, so he went all the way in, eyebrows furrowed by the silence. 

Then, a groan. 

He turned his neck, and his blood froze. "Oh Hylia. Time!'

Time laid miserably on his spot on the floor, tools strewn on and around him. Twilight sprinted towards his mentor, desperate to see what had caused the strong hero to look so vulnerable. Upon closer inspection, Twilight noticed the blood coating Time’s hair and face. “Goddesses, Time what happened to you?”

Time could only reach up and touch his forehead, wincing at the pain the simple action brought on.

Twilight was quick to sling Time’s arm around his shoulder but couldn’t manage to haul him up. If only the hero had removed his armour he would have been easier to lift. “Holy Hylia, Time, you weigh a ton.” Twilight sighed. “Okay, I’m going to get help. I’ll be right back.” Twilight ran as quickly as he could from the stable as Time groaned again and slumped back against the wall. It wasn’t long before he ran into Warrior and Legend who were busy tending the cucoos.

“Always remember,” Legend said beside Warrior who was holding a bag of feed at arm’s length, a cucoo standing innocently in front of him. “They can smell fear.”

“I’ve fought cucoo wars, my friend,” Warrior said eliciting a snicker from Legend, “I am not afraid of feeding these little punks.” As if on cue the cucoo crowed and Warrior visibly startled. Legend began cackling at his side, doubling over at the hilarity. “Shut up. I just got a fright.”

“Guys,” Twilight called, catching the pair’s attention. They turned to Twilight, seeing the weary look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong,” Warrior asked, concern in his voice.

“Time’s hurt. I can’t carry him alone. I need your help to take him to the house.”

“Say no more. I’ll come with you.” Warrior stepped over the fence keeping the cucoos and joined Twilight’s side.

“Me too,” Legend said, making his way over when Twilight stopped him.

“No, Legend. I need you to tell Malon what happened. She should be in the house.”

“O-okay. I’m on it.” Legend dashed off to the house and while Warrior and Twilight made their way hastily to the barn.

“How bad is it,” Warrior huffed as they ran across the field.

“I don’t know. He was pretty out of it when I got there but I hope he’s doing okay. He might have a concussion.”

Warrior hummed in thought. “What exactly happened?“

“I don’t know, but by the looks of it, some tools fell on top of him. He was lying under a bunch of gardening equipment.”

“Shit,” Warrior cursed. “I think you might be right about that concussion. How did that even happen?”

“I don’t know. He can tell us when we get him inside.”

They came to a stop in front of the red and white wooden building and pushed open the large wide doors.

“Old man,” Warrior called, peering inside, “You okay?”

Time was still on the floor, covered in blood and moaning. His eyes were glazed over but they held a note of fear behind them.

“Time, we’re going to help you. We just need to-” Twilight began as he knelt next to the man and slung his arm over his shoulder for the second time when he was interrupted by a sudden outcry.

“Get away from me,” Time yelled as loudly as he could in the state he was in. Twilight startled at his mentor’s harsh words, but he continued to lift him with Warrior’s help. “No, NO! Leave me,” Time continued to shout, fighting to free himself from Twilight and Warrior’s firm grip.

“Time, calm down, we’re just trying to take you home-”

“No, please,” Twilight spared a glance at the old man and his heart sank. Was Time crying? “Not again. I beg of you.”

“Time,” Twilight said gently, “It’s going to be fine.”

Just then Legend burst through the door. He doubled over, breathing heavily. “Fuck,” more breathing, “Okay,” he straightened and looked at the trio, Time’s teary-eyed visage and blood-soaked hair catching his notice above everything else. “Goddesses, Time, what happened?”

“We don’t know, but we need your help getting him to the house.”

Legend needed no more instruction and jogged over to help Twilight and Warrior carry the injured man. He took hold of Time’s legs but got kicked in the face for his efforts. “Ow! What-”

“Let go of me!” Time was frantic. He began kicking and flailing his arms to try and get away, but his efforts were weak despite his dedication.

“Time, we need you to cooperate,” Warrior scolded. “Malon’s probably worried sick.” Legend tried again to take hold of Time’s legs, but Time wouldn’t relent. He kept thrashing. “Time please-”

Time began wailing out of nowhere. He stopped fighting and fell to his knees, escaping from their grips but making no move to run. “I can’t. Don’t take me back there. The sacred realm,” Time sobbed, “I don’t want to go back.” Twilight froze. The sacred realm? Time had been there? Could that mean he was imprisoned with Ganondorf? And if that was the case, could that be why Time had been fighting them so relentlessly only a moment ago? Maybe his head wound was more serious than Twilight originally thought if Time was freaking out about events from that long ago. Twilight moved to pick him up again and this time his mentor didn’t flinch, probably having spent all of his energy trying to keep them away.

Soon the three heroes managed to get Time to the house without too much trouble. But the whole scene was still on Twilight’s mind. Why did Time think that they were going to take him to the sacred realm? What had traumatised the hero so much that he showed such vulnerability; such helplessness, and fear?

Before Twilight could ponder any longer Malon rushed to help her husband. She shouldered the weight Warrior had been carrying and they both managed to nearly drag Time upstairs to bed. All the while Time muttered words of protest, though he was unable to fight back effectively.

 He seemed so lifeless. Boneless even. So unlike himself that it had Twilight swallowing something stuck in his throat. Something that felt like a seed of panic. Yet he knew he couldn't panic, not yet, because if he turned around he'd see the others looking at him, looking for some sort of direction, something to do. 

Twilight didn't have anything for them to do. He barely knew what to do himself. 

So he swallowed that seed and turned, keeping his face as neutral as he could manage, and looked at each hero in the eye. Legend, of course, was there, but until now Twilight hadn't noticed Wild and Four were there as well. Sky must have still been looking for the others.

Well, he supposed there was something to do. 

"Head out, find the others, and bring your swords," he said calmly, a stark difference from what he was actually feeling. "I ran into an infected Leaver out there. They travel in packs, there could be more."

"Alright," Wild mumbled, grabbing his sword and walking out the door even though Twilight didn't think Wild knew what a leaver was. Legend shared a look with Twilight before nodding and running out to follow the champion.

"I'll go check on the traveler," Four said, "he's cleaning up the cow pen. The pig parlor is near there too, so I'll see if Wind is still there." And then he was out the door.

Then, Twilight was alone, looking at the empty house and feeling almost… lost on what to do. He supposed he could head out and search for Sky, but his feet didn't seem to want to move from their spot. 

Then, the sound of creaking floorboards made themselves known behind Twilight. He turned around to see Warrior standing there.

Warrior gave Twilight a small smile and Twilight found himself smiling a tad bit back. Worry was a knot in his chest, but he was sure with the help of the others, this would just be a bump in the road. 

"While they're finding the others," Warrior offered, "you and I can check the perimeter for more monsters."

Twilight was about to respond that it sounded like a plan, but then Malon made her appearance as well. "Actually, I need one of you boys to help me a little more," she said softly. Twilight glanced at Warrior and he shrugged, fixing his scarf around his neck so it wrapped a little around his chin. 

"Why don't you help the lady," Warrior said, "I want to see these leavers for myself."

Twilight nodded, making a mental note to thank Warrior later, and then turned towards Malon as the other hero took his leave. Malon gave him a kind look before she stepped forward and brushed her finger across his cheek. "Look at you," she said, "you need a hose down more than the pigs."

Twilight released a breath and stepped away, folding his arms across his chest. "How is he?"

A grimace passed over Malon's features. "Tired. Confused. Scared. Nothing I haven't tackled before."

Twilight knew nightmares were not exclusive. Anyone could have them. Someone with a perfect life. Someone who've seen more war-torn days that simple days. Nightmares crept up on the cowardly. Pounced on the brave. It shouldn't surprise him that things like this had happened to Time before. 

"Thankfully, he's keeping himself awake," Malon continued, beginning to head towards the front door. Twilight quickly followed along. "I don't know if he's conscious enough to purposely keep himself awake, or if… if he's subconsciously doing it. But either way, it gives us time to find help."

She walked out of the house with Twilight at her heels, and eventually, she stopped by a small garden of berry bushes. She worked her way past them and revealed a small birdbath.

Well, a fairy bath actually. 

"Drat," Malon cussed, "there's only one."

"You collect them?"

"You boys and your collecting," Malon mumbled, walking forward to where a small ball of light hovered over the water in the bowl, dropping every so often to perhaps take a sip. "We're looking for one." She reached forward and gently cupped the fairy in her hands, mumbling a soft plea for help that they both knew the fairy would oblige without a single hesitation. 

"Navi," Twilight whispered in reverence. Malon slowly pulled her hands to her chest, the fairie's light glowing through her fingers. 

"How… how much do you know about my husband?" She asked.

Twilight swallowed. "Um, more than the others. B-but less than you, I'm sure."

She shook her head and began to head back to the house. "There's not a single thing I don't know about him. Do you know about the true nature of his adventures? Why he had been given the title of Hero of Time?" 

"I, uh," Twilight stumbled, placing his hand on the back of his neck and rubbing sheepishly. "Not really. I know he… traveled a few times. Back and forth into the future and the past."

"That doesn't just happen you know," Malon said as they walked back into the house. They stopped right in front of the master bedroom and she sighed, looking older than what he had ever seen her before. "He tells me that when he was a boy, he went to obtain a sacred sword. But his body… was too young and weak to wield a sword like that. Against his will and knowledge, he was locked away in the sacred realm… for seven years, only to wake up in a body that was older than his mind. To a world torn apart by power.

"He… he tells me he does not remember those years locked away, but sometimes he wakes up screaming to let him go. Let him leave. That he's afraid and he doesn't want to be there anymore. I think… I think the memories of that place are somewhere in his head, and when he's asleep or things like this happen, they're unlocked."

Twilight nodded somberly in sympathy for Time’s circumstances. Time had endured much more than any normal Hylian could even fathom, though Malon seemed uninterested in Time’s heroics and more in tune with the man he was inside. She would know what to say to snap him out of his state of anxiety. If anyone could bring him back to reality it was her.

The door creaked loudly as Malon opened it hesitantly. She tiptoed over to the bed on which Time was lying with his back against the headboard. His head faced the window across the bed. He kept muttering unintelligibly under his breath, his eyes would dart across the room, and he would jump at the slightest noise. The hero turned his head at their approaching footsteps.

“Dear,” Malon said, causing her husband to turn towards her completely. He looked exhausted as if he’d pass out any second, but they couldn’t risk him falling into any terrible consequences of a concussion. Time smiled at her, and, for the first time since the incident, he looked as if he felt truly safe. “I brought something that might help you.” Malon released the fairy from her hands, watching it whisk away and flutter over Time’s shaking form. Almost instantly he relaxed, though slightly. His pupils contracted, the dazed look in his eyes faded and he stopped shaking. He stopped muttering to himself and looked up at Twilight who had made his way over to the bed. Time, for the briefest moment, looked as if he recognised Twilight before he shot up and scooted back on the bed, shouting, “No!” and “Get away from me!”

“Not again, NOT AGAIN!”

“Link, sweetheart, it’s just Twilight,” Malon said, reaching out and trying to placate him. “Please, try to remember. He’s not going to take you back. I-I promise,” Malon choked out. Tears pricked at her eyes as she watched her husband agonise over the cruelty that had been done to him as a child. She didn’t think she could bear to see him crumble under the weight of all his years of torture and vulnerability.

Time saw this- her tears- and stopped. He drew closer to her and placed a rough but gentle hand on her cheek.

“Twilight, will you just-” she paused and took a calm, shaky breath, looking deeply into Time’s scared eyes. “Will you please give me a moment?”

Twilight respectfully nodded and left the room. He heard voices coming from the kitchen and made his way there to find that all of the Links had returned. They all wore worried expression, presumably having all heard the news about Time’s accident.

Twilight cleared his throat and addressed the room at their expectant glances. “He’ll be alright,” he said simply.

“Alright? That’s it? No ‘he’s responding to treatment’, or ‘we know how to heal him’?” Four asked bluntly

“What kind of treatment, dumbass? We have no potions, no fairies, and no doctor,” Legend declared, flailing his arms wildly. “And how are we supposed to know how to heal him if we don’t know what’s wrong?”

“We actually had one fairy,” Twilight answered, “and we might know what’s wrong with him.”

All heads turned to Twilight at the new information. “Well? Spill it. How do we fix him,” Legend demanded, tapping his foot impatiently. He tried to look nonchalant but the look in his eyes betrayed his concern.

“He might have sustained a serious concussion, but, with the fairy, we were able to lessen the injury, but we’ll still need to take shifts waking him up. We have to make sure he doesn’t bear any permanent damage.”

The group fell silent after that, worry casting its dark cloud over them. Twilight shifted and played with his fingers, revealing his nerves.

“There’s something you’re not telling us,” WIld pointed out suddenly, catching the group’s attention. Twilight paused. Even though he knew it was necessary to tell them and they would find out even without his help, he didn’t want to spread worry over a handleable situation. Despite these thoughts, he decided he needed to tell them the truth.

“There is… one problem. I don’t think the old man remembers any of us or trusts us. And more than that it seems like he’s trying to keep himself awake because of some past trauma.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it,” WInd asked hopefully.

“Not exactly. Concussed patients need sleep. They just can’t be asleep for too long periods at a time.”

“That’s sure to make things difficult, but it’s just a small setback. We can still get him to sleep and help him remember us,” Sky added cheerfully.

The rest of the Links didn’t look so sure, but they didn’t argue with Sky either. His optimism was welcome in their time of panic. They were willing to give anything a shot if it meant helping their friend.

“I think it’s best if we take shifts. Too many people at once will just overwhelm him.

“If that’s the case I’ll take the first shift,” said Warrior, standing. “I mean, we were pretty close. Maybe there’s a chance he’ll remember me.”

Twilight thought about that. Of course, there was a chance, but if the old man didn’t even remember Twilight he didn’t think he’d remember Warrior, even if they were close. “Okay, go for it,” Twilight said wearily.

Warrior nodded and left for Time and Malon’s room, leaving the rest to ponder the endless possibilities that might come of this.

"Oh good, you all have a plan," Molon said, walking into the room with the other Links'. She gave them a tired yet enthusiastic smile. " That means I can trust you all to hold down the fort while I head to Castle Town."

"Alone?" Sky asked, only to hiss out in pain when Wind elbowed him in the side.

"She can handle herself," Wind warned but Malon just chuckled good-naturedly. 

"I appreciate the concern, sky child, but it's just to the castle. My husband needs more medicine and the sun is still up for a little while longer. I'll be back by morning, just keep waking him up every so often to make sure he's not getting worse," she said, tugging a shawl around her shoulders.

"If you wish for one of us to accompany you," Wild offered smally, "I'd be happy to tag along."

Really, Twilight would almost like for Wild to join Malon. He looked out of his element, and he probably felt like the last one capable to help someone with memory loss and confusion. But Malon simply shook her head and walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling kindly at him. "Thank you for offering, but I'll be fine. My husband needs you all. You're all very important to him. Besides, I won't be alone, I'll have Epona with me."

"You're important to him too," Hyrule said quietly. 

Malon just beamed at him before she walked over to the door. "I'll be back by morning. Earlier if the gates don't lock me in. Take care!"

"Good luck," seven voices all chimed in. Then, Malon was gone, and the boys were all left to their own devices. 

And there weren't a whole lot of devices, so Twilight took a page from Time and Malon's book and set the boys to work. Wild returned to the kitchen, finishing up dinner while Legend and Hyrule went to clean up and prepare the guest room. To Sky, he assigned sweeping the floors and Four and Wild worked together to dust various cabinets. All the while, the door to the master bedroom remained silent, a boding forewarning of what the future had to bring. 

-o-o-o-o-

His head hurt. That was the simple truth of everything. His head hurt. Enough so that he would be quite content doing nothing. He was pretty sure he was asleep, but he couldn't really recall why. If he tried to remember, then the headache would just grow and he would rather it went away. 

Unfortunately for him, he had little choice in many things, one of those things was the over creeping sense of wakefulness forcing himself to become aware of his body, the sounds around him, and the gross taste lingering in his mouth. Something on his shoulder.

He would have preferred to keep his eyes shut, but they opened anyway, bringing a sharp ping of pain through his skull.

Blinking, he looked ahead of him, only to find a wooden ceiling above his head and not much else. He moaned as his headache smarted, but he quickly stilled as he realized that the pressure on his shoulder that he felt earlier was still there. 

He turned his head and his eyes widened. There was a man in the room with him, leaning towards him from a wooden chair set next to the bed, arm stretched out and hand resting on him. Face screwed up with concern.

“Hey, old man, you up?”

Instantly, panic washed over him.

He jerked away from the man, slamming his hands next to his side to perhaps find a weapon. “Get away,” he snarled and the man snapped back as if stung. It was now that he realized that he didn’t know where he was. There was a small inkling at the back of his head that promised that he might have been here, but the hysteria from waking up with a stranger next to him was blurring his vision, making it even harder to concentrate when combined with his aching head. 

“Time, it’s me,” the man said, his voice stern but a little rushed like he was nervous, and that certainly did nothing to make Link trust him any more than what he initially did. “Captain?”

“Where am I?” Link snarled, his voice sounding wrong in his own throat. He tried to shift up in the bed he was lying in, but his body felt wrong and the hurt in his head was traveling down his spine with the movement. A flash of familiarity ricocheted across his skull and he couldn’t help but whimper at it. He had felt like this before. Like his body was wrong and everything was different and wrong and that only made him want to panic more.

Yet everything hurt, he could hardly even think about moving without some sort of pain. He could just lie there and struggle to make sense of what’s going on, hoping his muddled mind would clear.

“You’re at your home,” the man (captain?) said slowly, making an effort to raise his hands and show he was weaponless. Not that Link believed him for a second. People can be crafty when they want to be. “What do you remember?”

“I-” Link swallowed, trying to grasp onto anything that was more clear than the rapid beating of his heart. He was so confused, and scared, and lost, and what was the last thing he remembered? He can hardly remember a single thing. Then, something calming washed over him with the soothing voice of a woman singing softly in his hair, her soft hands running through his hair. 

Safe, she said, you’re safe my love.

And just like that, her face appeared in his mind’s eye, and he was overcome with comfort and safety and finally, his heart calmed just a bit. He didn’t remember these walls, but he recognizes them now.

Home, they say. Safe.

He looked at the man again, trying to see him in a different light, try to puzzle together something he’s missing most the pieces to. 

A name flashed across the tip of his tongue, and he spoke it before he could question it. “You’re Link,” he said softly.

The man smiled and relaxed ever so slightly, and Link can feel the energy inside of him whither as well. He can barely keep his eyes open anymore, the adrenaline fading like a wistful song. “I’m Link too,” the man said kindly.

“Oh,” was all Link could say to that. His eyes are heavy now, almost like something unseen was wrapping itself around him, trying to drag him back into unconsciousness, and he almost fell into it if it weren’t for the hand replacing itself back onto his shoulder. 

“Hey, not yet, old man,” the other Link said. “We have to keep you awake just a bit longer, just to make sure your memory loss isn’t the only damage the concussion did.”

“Concussion…?”

The man simply nodded with a gentle, reassuring smile plastered on his face. “Yeah, you wouldn’t remember that. We found you out in the barn. You were lying under a bunch of gardening equipment with blood running from a wound on your head. Malon, your wife,” Link confirmed, “patched you up with a fairy-”

“Fairy,” Time interrupted, a flash of hope sparking in his eyes. “Navi?”

The other Link’s face fell as he shook his head. “No, old man. I’m sorry.” The pair were silent for a minute. Link kept his gaze on the floor as if it was more interesting than their conversation. The man ran a hand down his face before he spoke again. “Even though your wound is healed the effects are still there. You’ll be out of commission for a couple of days so don’t even think about getting out of bed.”

Link didn’t argue. He felt positively shitty to put it lightly. His head felt like a blacksmith’s anvil… blacksmith… somehow that word felt important as if it stirred the fog enshrouding his mind, trying to reveal a secret that would rather stay hidden. He grasped at it, but it evaded him.

Then a thought occurred to him out of the blue.

Link stared blankly at the man and blinked.

“What,” the other Link asked.

“Why are you in my house?” The question came out of nowhere, unprompted by anything, and yet, this was his house? Why was this man here?

The man blanched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“This is my house, is it not? I remember… that I know who you are, but why are you here? Does my wife know? Are there others? When did you even find me?”

“We found you earlier today and, yeah, there are others Twilight was here-”

“Twilight,” Link said slowly. “Yes, he was in here.“

“He’s one of us,” the other said. He paused as if realising something. “Do you remember him?”

Link shook his head. “No, I- I thought… I didn’t trust him. I thought he was going to take me back. I sense his magic... He can’t be trusted.” Link spoke frantically, trying to get his nerves across so the other Link would listen. He couldn’t go back to that place, no, he wouldn’t!

“Time, nobody here is going to hurt you. We’re your friends.” The man said then he sighed. “Malon left to get you some medicine,” he said and Link wanted to panic, but he could tell that the other was sure of his words, that Link wouldn’t be hurt. “In the meantime, I’m just going to ask you a few questions to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“All right.” Link did not feel fine, but he guessed that the other man meant something else.

The man cleared his throat before he began. “Are you feeling particularly irritable at the moment?”

Link quirked an eyebrow. “What sort of question is that?”

“Just answer me,” the man said, eliciting a small giggle from Link.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, coming out of his laughter. He still wasn’t sure of this man’s intentions, but a vague recollection at the back of his mind told him that he was familiar and therefore trustworthy.

“Good. Now, tell me everything you remember starting from when you met me.”

Odd question, Link thought. “Okay, I remember… I remember this-this portal of sorts.” Link tried to bring up the memories from his foggy mind and managed to recount his meeting with the man in front of him.

“We walked through another portal and,” Link gasped. He froze as the next memory came to him. “We were in the sky, on a floating island.” His eyes were wide. It was as if he was experiencing something supernatural, but, somehow, all of this felt like he was eating seconds from the same dish. “How is that possible.”

“Keep going,” the man cajoled.

“I remember we met someone, someone who always wore some sort of cape. It was mostly white- Link! His name was also Link.”

The man nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, keep going.”

Link’s face scrunched up as he thought, but every card he drew after that was blank. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Also, why are all our names Link?”

“We share the name of the hero’s spirit. You remember that much, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Link replied slowly.

“Okay, moving on,” the other Link said, waving his hand in the air. “What are your symptoms.”

***

Twilight was biting his nails. He couldn’t shake the thought of having Time distrust him so much that he perceived him as a threat.

Twilight paced back and forth across the kitchen as Wild finished up supper. “Your fingernails are down to stubs. If you go any further you’ll bleed,” Wild cautioned, sparing a glance at his mentor from his spot at the counter.

“What if he doesn’t remember any of us Wild? What if he sees us as dangerous? We can’t defeat Dark Link without him.” Twilight felt utterly defeated, but he wouldn’t let the others know that. He needed to be strong, but it was so much more difficult being a leader than Time made it out to be. The whole facade that he put up in front of the others was starting to crumble with every minute Time was struggling to remember.

“Twi, just be patient. He’ll come to his senses soon enough. In the meantime, you just need to put a little faith in him. Help him remember.”

Twilight took a deep breath. “You’re right. This isn’t going to fix itself.”

Twilight heard footsteps descending the stairs and swiftly turned around to see Warrior making his way toward them. “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the bad news,” Wild asked instead of Twilight.

“The bad news: Time doesn’t remember you,” Warrior said, addressing Twilight.

Twilight groaned. Of course, he knew as much, but he was hoping Warrior could get a different result despite his doubts. “What’s the good news then?”

“He remembers me and Sky. Meaning I was able to get him to trust that the rest of you won’t hurt him. He’s willing to speak to you. Also, there doesn't seem to be any  long-lasting side effects.”

Twilight released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. It was a start, Time was willing to see him. If there was any chance of Twilight getting Time to recover, he’d take it. “Alright. I’ll go talk to him.” Twilight rushed forward but he was stopped as Warrior put a hand out in front of him, keeping him in place.

“Ah ah ah, not yet. Time’s resting. You should wake him up in about two hours to check if he’s okay. Do. Not. Force it. If he doesn’t remember you, it’s okay. Be patient.”

Twilight nodded sadly. He didn’t want to wait, but, for Time’s safety, he supposed he had no choice. “Thanks, Warrior.”

Warrior flashed Twilight a warm, reassuring smile before he turned to Wild. “I’m absolutely famished.”

“Well and grand. Supper is just about done. Mind setting up the table?”

“Sure.” Warrior set off to find the crockery and cutlery and Twilight stood, staring out the window, into the distance. “Something on your mind?” Wild inquired.

“What isn’t on my mind?”

“Fair. Go take a seat. I’ll save Time a plate.”

Twilight grudgingly obeyed and took a seat at the dining table. He folded his arms and rested his head on them. It had been a rough day for everyone and the fact that Time remembered Warrior and not him made him feel just a tad jealous.

The others had arrived and conversations were going over their meal, but Twilight was part of them. His focus was drawn to their most pressing issue and, as a result, he felt perpetually stressed.

Twilight didn’t notice Wild come up to him when everyone had left the table. “It’s been two hours-”

Twilight didn’t even let Wild finish his sentence before he sprang out of his chair and dashed to the stairs.

“Wait,” Wild called. “Take this.” In Wild’s hands was a plate of food. Twilight took the offered food with a knife and fork. “He might be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Thanks.” Twilight gave a wan smile and headed up to the master bedroom.

Once Twilight reached the door he knocked before he could think better of it. Twilight facepalmed. “Dammit, Link. Of course, he’s not going to answer the door.” But Twilight gave a surprised yelp when his mentor swung the door open. “Y-you’re supposed to be in bed,” Twilight chided.

Time looked, in every sense of the word, like a crook caught in the lamplight. His eyes were round and surprised and he simply stood there, staring at Twilight like he didn't quite know what to do next. 

"But I suppose that's a good sign, isn't it?" Twilight asked nervously, uncomfortable under the elder man's stare. "You waking up yourself? I don't really know the fine details of concussions but-"

He's cut off as the door is suddenly slammed shut and he's left of the other side gaping, the plate of food left uselessly in his hand. 

It took him a moment to find his voice. He reached up and knocked again. "Old man? It's me, Twilight, I just came to check up on you and give you some dinner!"

There's no answer and a spark of annoyance ignited in Twilight's chest. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he called, knocking again, "I'm your friend. Warrior said you remembered him and Sky; I'm their friend too!" 

"Go away, please!" Time suddenly called on the other side of the door. 

Twilight rolled his eyes. "Sorry, buddy, can't do that. We have to make sure you're doing alright. The sun is setting and I don't think Malon will be back until morning, so you have to work with us for a little while longer." He reached forward and placed his hand on the doorknob, feeling a little like he's about to breach his mentor's privacy, but at the same time his mentor is acting very childish and Twilight can't just leave him be. 

The doorknob jiggled but did not open. Twilight scowled and huffed. "Very mature," he said, "unlock the door. Look, I know you're very hard-headed, but you have to let us help you. You have to let somebody in."

"Send someone else!" Time called. 

And that blow was almost physical. 

It definitely had him stumbling back like it. 

Deep breaths Twi. Deep breaths. "Look! I don't know why you don't like me all of a sudden, but I mean nothing but goodwill! Plus, Warrior said that you'd be willing to talk with me?"

"... I changed my mind."

"Old man," Twilight said in exasperation. "Time. Open the door." He jiggled the doorknob. "C'mon, I'm not going to bite you or whatever. Time! Please?" 

Nothing. 

Twilight had to step away to restrain himself from kicking the door down. 

"Fine! You win! But you will let someone in!"

He turned with a huff and walked back to the kitchen where the others were helping Wild clean up the kitchen but they all stopped when he entered the area, food going cold on the plate in his hand and face probably red. 

"That didn't take long," Hyrule said slowly. "Is he alright?" 

Twilight huffed and strides over to the younger hero, shoving the plate in his hands and then storming towards the front door. "He won't talk to me. It's your turn."

And then he was out the door before anyone could say a single thing. He stood in the cool evening air for a few seconds, panting like a wolfos. 

If Time wanted to act like a child, then that's fine by him. He took off walking, nowhere in particular, just in a random direction. He was sure though, that if anyone looked at him through the windows of the ranch, they'd see steam coming from his ears. 

-o-o-o-o-

Hyrule could only stand there a little dumbfounded by what had happened. It seemed Twilight’s behavior was a shock to the rest of them too because it took a good few beats of silence bore someone cleared their throat and attempted to make some semblance of a plan. 

“Hyrule… do you want to give Time his food?”

Hyrule looked at Legend, the one who had spoken, feeling like he was a trapped animal. There’s no way Time would react friendly with Hyrule. Not if he didn’t with Twilight. Hyrule barely even knew the guy. He respected him sure but it wasn’t like they had any kind of relationship or anything. 

His internal panic must have shown on his face because Sky gave a kind smile. “How about,” he said, taking the plate from Hyrule’s hands and setting it down on the kitchen table. “You invite him down to eat.”

“I don’t think he can handle a large company, Sky,” Warrior said, “he’s probably very tired still.”

“I think that for whatever reason he can’t handle our rancher’s company,” Sky retorted and everyone silenced. “And while Twilight is out blowing steam we can get him down here to talk to us as a group.”

Warrior bit his lip in thought before he sighed. “I see your logic. But we mustn't crowd him.”

“Maybe we can help him remember Twilight,” Wind offered.

“So by the time Twilight comes back, everything will be fine again,” Wild put in as well.

“Fine,” Warrior muttered, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. But if we break him more, I won't take the fall with you all when Malon decides our lives are forfeit.”

It was meant to be a joke, but if the way the entire group stilled and became somber was an indication of anything, it certainly fell flat.

“Hyrule?” Four suddenly asked and Hyrule almost jumped a foot in the air, not expecting to be addressed.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to get the old man?”

Heat flooded his face. “Y-yeah.”

He left the room before he could make a bigger fool of himself and practically scrambled up the stairs. He wondered what made Twilight so irritable. Did Time say something rude? And why was Time so insistent about not wanting to talk to Twilight? He wished he knew, that way he’d be more prepared with Time inevitably shut him down too. 

There was no way this would work, and he chanted it in his head like a mantra until he worked up the courage to knock on the door. There was silence for a few solid seconds, and then a voice called out in a more awake tone than what he had been expecting.

“Who is it?” 

Hyrule swallowed. “Um, Hyrule. Um- well, not Hyrule Hyrule. I- I’m the hero of Hyrule? So that’s what everyone calls me. It gets confusing sometimes and-”

The door was suddenly opened and he shut his jaw with a click.

Time stood there on the other side of the doorway, his single eye critically narrowed, almost like he was looking into Hyrule’s very soul. Hyrule squirmed under the gaze, but whatever Time was looking for seemed to be found because he stepped slowly out of the way to invite Hyrule in. Hyrule swallowed and stepped back. “Actually, we were wondering if you felt well enough to join us downstairs for some dinner?”

Time stilled and then he sighed. “I’m… not sure that is a good idea.”

“Twilight isn’t there,” Hyrule rushed out and Time’s eyebrows rose in slight surprise. “He went out. For a run or something, I think. The other’s all want to talk to you.”

Time remained silent for a second before he released a breath. “Did I hurt his feelings?”

“Who? Twilight?”

Time nodded and Hyrule swallowed. “Oh. Um. He’ll be fine.”

“I… I don’t recognize anyone, but each of you gives me a… sense of peace and safety. But Twilight… I don’t know why but I can’t bring myself to open up to him. I know I care about him, I can feel it in my bones that I care for each of you, but I… I can’t talk to him right now. I just hope I didn’t hurt his feelings.”

“I… yeah, he’ll get over it,” Hyrule repeated because he didn’t quite know what else to say. “He’s… strong. And whatever is off about him that you don’t like I’m sure will all make sense when you’re better.”

“When I’m better.”

“Yeah… so do you want to come down and eat or should I bring food up-”

“I’ll… come down. I feel trapped in this room, and some kind faces I think will help me feel better.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Hyrule stood there awkwardly as Time practically shuffled out of the doorway, his eyebrows drawn together with a tightness that could only be described as pain. His head must still be bothering him. Hyrule swallowed and took a step forward, ducking under one of his arms and grabbing onto Time’s side. Time made a thankful hum and wrapped his arm around Hyrule’s shoulders. 

“What is for dinner?” Time asked as Hyrule helped him down the first step. Hyrule grunted with his weight but was thankfully able to keep his balance for a few more steps. 

“Wild made Hearty Salmon Meuniere. It’s really good,” Hyrule grunted. 

They finally made it down onto the first floor and Hyrule almost bent over gasping, but he was stopped when Time squeezed his shoulder. 

“I don’t remember who you are,” Time mumbled, “but I have the sense that you’ve been through much. You are incredibly brave, little one.”

Hyrule swallowed, not really prepared for a revelation like that. “Everyone here is brave. You’ll see that I’m at the bottom of the ladder. It’s you who everyone looks up to. Everyone is taking this memory loss hard. Especially Twilight. I… I appreciate it though.”

“If the me without memories can tell how courageous you are, I’m sure the me with memories thinks even higher of you.”

Hyrule almost choked on his spit as his ears began to feel like they were on fire. 

“L-lets go. I’m sure the others all want to see you.”

-o-o-o-o-

The other’s all consisted of seven young men who for the life of him Link… or Time could not remember. He knew the faces. After they tell him their names he’s almost hitting his head against the wall in anger because how could he have possibly forgotten these young men?

Wind was a charming lad, and he gave Time the sense or recklessness and adventure. Curiosity. He smiled the widest when Time entered the room and talked the most like it wasn’t awkward at all. Time appreciated his energy. His kindness. It reminded him almost of himself before… before everything. Except, this young man somehow managed to keep that innocent part of him alive after his adventure. 

Legend was much on the opposite side of the scale. He can see the sadness in his eyes, but he can also see a spark of flame. The need for adventure still calls him, even though Time is quite confident that Legend has been through more than what he says. There had been many obstacles in his way, and he lost many parts of himself, but he still retains a kindness and carefulness that often goes unnoticed by his prickly exterior. He says things as they are, and Time can’t help but feel a large deal of respect towards the younger man.

Sky was… well, Sky was himself. Time’s impressions of him were that he was kind and positive and perhaps the happiest of the group. But he also has a righteous aura about him that Time isn’t particularly fond of. The sword on his back is confirmation of that. Yet, Time also knows that he would trust his life in Sky’s hands. 

Four was as blunt as a tree branch being used for swordplay. He didn’t dance around his words, and when Time asked for his story, he flatly said that Time had no business knowing. Time can respect that. Clearly, whatever relationship he had with Four was purely made out of trust. Neither knew that much about each other, but it didn’t matter. The boy had a quick mind and sharp tongue, and while he kept his secrets to himself, he still didn’t mind very much being around the others. 

Warrior, Time can’t help but feel a special bond with him. Besides himself, Warrior was clearly the eldest of the group. Time knew that this man has suffered much, and has seen much more, and yet he still went out of his way to be honorable. To be kind.

Wild was a special soul. Time instantly felt the need to pay special attention to how he acted. Searching for little signs that he was uncomfortable or happy or content. Time didn’t think Wild has had that much time to be himself. In fact, it almost felt like Wild was constantly watching himself to live up to someone else. Yet, despite all of that, Time could tell his smiles were genuine, his enthusiasm heartfelt. 

And of course, there was Hyrule. Insecure to a fault, yet his heart is bigger than that. He has a lot of heart. He might say he’s not that brave, but Time knew better. He knew that Hyrule has perhaps seen just as much hell as Time himself has.

The boys were all unique. Loud. Different. And even though the headache in his skull pulsed and his eyes felt heavier and heavier the night wore on, he wanted nothing more than to continue being in their company.

They told him stories. Tried their best to help him remember some of them. He couldn’t recall them all, like the one about how Legend apparently single-handedly fought off a hoard of moblins. He suspected that was just an attempt to butter himself up and trick Time’s memory. But the story Warrior told of the great Goron spice incident came almost immediately back to him with just a small bit of fuzz around the details. Wild looked scandalized at the mention of that story, seeing as it involved a piece of women’s clothing being found in his bad, but when Time started laughing, saying that he remembered that, all of the boys became eager to tell more silly stories about the rest of them.

Wild pulled out his strange slate and began a slide show of pictures, and quite some time passed and he hardly even felt his headache anymore.

Then, the slideshow stopped on a picture of a young man with dirty hair and markings on his forehead.

The mood instantly sunk, and Time couldn’t help but feel responsible for it. 

“He looks up to you a lot,” Four mumbled, “you’re… almost like a dad to him.”

And Time knew this. He knew this the moment he saw the picture down on the slate of that young man. Twilight… feels almost like a son to him too.

Now that some time has passed with the others, he can almost see how silly he was. Sure, he was out of it, memories shattered in his head like a mirror, and Twilight simply had the misfortune of being the one to find him. The misfortune of having dark magic within him that Time didn’t recognize. How foolish of him to make that mistake. How foolish of him to judge Twilight off of that simple misunderstanding.

Almost like a sign from the goddesses, Twilight chose that time to walk in the front door. His skin around his eyes, cheeks, and ears were red from perhaps the cold, perhaps something else. He stopped in his tracks as everyone turned to look at him but his eyes instantly locked with Time. 

There was something desperate in them, so instead of saying anything, Time smiled and scooted a little on the chair he was sitting on, making room for one more to join them at the kitchen table. Twilight smiled like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and quickly grabbed a chair and made his spot next to Time like it was the most natural thing in the entire world to do.

Laughter filled the rest of the night, and as they told yet another story Time hardly even noticed his head drooping with tiredness until an arm wound itself around his middle and hefted him upward. He did his best to cooperate with his feet, but it clearly wasn’t much help. He was eventually laid down on a soft sofa, a throw placed over his body, and before the calming embrace of sleep could take him he looked at the boy above him. How foolish of himself indeed to think this boy could ever hurt a fly.

-o-o-o-o-

Malon returned in the morning, a stash of red potions in her hands and an irritating story to tell about her next-door neighbors in the castle town inn. Though, her irritation quickly faded when she saw her husband happily resting on the downstairs sofa with a smile on his face. The boys tell her that they helped him remember most everything the night before and gave him much-needed company. When she was able to give him a red potion, the most it did was un-fog some of the trickier bits of his memory and rid him of his headache.

She didn’t complain when he pulled her close, dragging her into a love-filled kiss.

Wind made a gagging sound but Malon didn’t mind a single bit. Clearly, there was no need to worry. Her boy’s always pull through, one way or another. 

[finding-the-daylight]

So, now that my finals are officially over, I am going to proceed to have a drink or two or three and rewatch Eclipse. Here’s (soberly) what I remembered from the film prior to starting this account (since starting this account, posts re:Eclipse have reminded me of things I’m not going to include in this introduction): 

1. Bella is basically playing tic-tac-toe with Edward and Jacob and her feelings for them. She can’t make up her mind. When I watched it the first time, my dad was in the living room half paying attention to it and said she was very selfish. 

2. Edward tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

3. Jacob tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

4. Both fight for her affection and even though she’s engaged to Edward, she won’t let go of Jacob.

5. When the newborn army shows up, Bella cuts her arm with a rock.

6. There’s awkward tension in the tent.

That’s literally all I remember of the movie while sober (aside from what I have relearned from posts about Eclipse on this blog). My drunken thoughts will be below the break:

Okay, so this dude I think his name is Riley is lowkey kinda dumb, no offense. Like he just stood there and screamed “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?” This is how all horror movies end badly. You don’t talk back. You run or hide or esape.

THE MEADOW IS SO FUCKING PRETTY. IT’S THE PUREST THING WE HAVE IN THIS FANDOM OMG HE’S PLAYING WITH EHR HAIR AND I JUST WANT SOMEOEN TO PLAY WITH MY HAIR. DAMN BELLA, MY FINALS ARE OVER. SUCKS TO SUCK, DOESN’T IT?

I never noticed the CUllen cuff before, but now thanks to this blog it’s all I’m looking @ lmao. 

I FCKING LOVE CHARLIE TOO MUCH AND HE DESERVED BETTER THIS WHOLE TIME. HE IS SUCH A GOOD FATHER AND HE DESERVES THE BEST.

THERE’S A GLOWING RED LIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW WTF I THINK IT’S THE REFLECTION OF A CAR LIGHT BUT I FUCKING SWEAR

NVM ITS GONE

WHAT THE FUCK EDWARD?? YOU MESSED WITH BELLA’S TRUCK SO SHE COULDN’T SEE HER FRIEND? FUCK. I WOULD’VE DUMPED YOU AND LEFT YOU IN THE WOODS BRO.

Edward sitting with Bella’s friends. We can’t help but stan. He’s still a bitch for the truck thing though. 

I love how Alice looks @ Edward and tells him the party will be fun because she knows nothing bad will happen. But then he reads her mind and looks conerned wtf is ognna happen?

Side note: I really like the lighting in this movie. Everyone has a healthly glow. They lokk happy.

The fucking Volturi always gotta ruin everything. Bitch ass hoes. Ol’ crusty asses acting like some outdated monarchy. Why don’t the vamprires start a democratic government?

Charlie really deserved better. Like I know they couldn’t tell him teh truth but they could’ve been slightly less untruthful prbabl.

I WANNA FIND SOMEONE WHERE MY MOM SAYS WE’RE LIKE MAGNETS WITH EACH OTHER. I WANT SOMEONE TO LOOK @ ME LIKE I’M THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. DAMNIT EDWARD. DAMNIT STEPHENDW. 

Y’ALL ARE TELLING ME THE ENTIRE CULELN CLAM COMBINED COULDN’T TKAE OUT VICTORIA? THIS SHIT IS GETTING UNREALISTIC LMAO.

THE MUSIC THAT STARTS PLAYING WHEN JAKE TURNS AROUND IN THE PARKING LOT SENT ME LMAOOOOO. 

Leah is such a badass and I wnat to be best friends with ehr plase. 

ALSO FCK THIE IMPRINTING STORYLINE. 

SAM AND LEAH WERE HAPPY TOGETHER.

NO BELLA YOU DON’T FUCKING WANNA KNOW WHAT IMPRINTING IS. NONE OF US WANTD WTO KNWO. IT NEVER SHOULDVE BEEN WRITTEN.

Taylor and Kristen are such babies in this movie. They’re so young and precious. WHIH REMINDS ME WHY TF DID SPTHEJNFNWFNA MAKE THIS SEIRESO ABOUT CHIDLREN??!?! I STILL SAY IF THE CHARACTERS HAS BEWNNF MORE MATUEE AND IN LIKE THEIR MID OR LATE TWNETIEMS OR THIRTIS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER. FIUCKUNG FIGHT ME.

INITING BELLA TO HEAR THE TRIBE’S HISTORIES? THE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION FUCK STEPHEN0AWFJQ. BITCHJ.

SETH IS SO PRECIOUS. AGAIN. THEY’RE ALL SUCH BABIES. THESE POOR CHILDREN.

this hwoel shite is sof ukcing offensie. bitch. listen. why tf did stpehwb fafb have to appropriate cultues like this? BITCH>> you do realize if the legnds are actually like this they’rel ike that because it’s aout defeating yo white as sright? like your’e aware stpehebe ? 

omg bree is so scare d poor baby. literally why did stephenjdbawfbi do this? she just wnated to be ok not hurt anywaon.

exuce me vut CARLISLE IS HOT AS FUCK BITCH

edward is saying some real romantic shit and i sill hate him for the turck thing but like he loves her so much btu he’s stil an asshoel in this smovie

I’M ABOUT TO HATE JACOB I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES I’VE SEEN THE GIFS HOE WE GONNA GIGHT. BITCH SHE JUST TOLD YOU SHE DOESN’T LIKE YOU DON’T PUSH HER LIKE THIS. DUMBAS S HOE BITCH. YOU’RE GONNA FIGHT FOR HER? I’M GONNA FUCKIN FIGHT YOU BTCH. I WISH SHE WAS ALREAYD A VAMPIRE SO RTHAT PUNCH WOULDA HURT BITCH YOU DESERVED IT.

THESE FUCKWITS ARE FIGHTING OVER HER AND NOT LISTNEING TO HER THEY ARE BOTCH CANCELLED. BELLA NEEDS TO LEAVE BOTH THESE HOES AND GET A NEW MAN WHO ACTUALLY KNOWS HOW TO LISTNE. BITCHES.

I love Emmett so much. BELLA SHOULD FINA A MAN LIKE HIM. IT’S WHAT SHE DESERVES.

ROSALIE IS ABOUT TO POP TF OFF. SHE IS A QUEEN AND I LVOE AND SUPPORT HER. the saddest thing about this is that she thought her life was perfect and then some fucking asshoes ruiend it. she was so happy. wtf im gonna cry. fuck. i hate sptehej n so much. these gross ass hoes i’m gonna cik all theyre assses. this is so gross i’m so angry literaluy setthing beithc. BUT THEN SHE GETS HER REVENGE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. FUCK THOSE BASTARS. but she;s so sad it breaks my heart. she wants to be human so bad. this scene is so sad and it’s theonly good scene in twilight and nikki reed deserves an ocsa like if you agree.

jane and alec more childrne who should’ve been able to be children fck the volturie

why the hel is jessica the fucking valedinact ion? it should’ve been bella they made her seem so damn smart but now she’s not theo ne? i don’ beliee it. but anna kendrick is a gift and now i wanna watch ptiche perfect. CHARLIE is so pure he deserved better and i’m gona kep saying it.

i love those fucking rose colored lamps hanging at the cullens house int he window at hte party scene can anyone link them to me i need? 

why the hell is the wolfpack athe cullesn hosue? this doesnt make sense and it doesn’t seem real am i too drunk and imabginf this?

jno wait it’s real. jake’s appolgoizng.

how fucking conventinet the woflpakc is there hwen alice realizes there abotu to be attacked. this aint realistc. bitc.

why are these kids being forces to act like audls? “I wans;t asking for permission” hoe you’re like 16 go home and go tib ed and odnt go to war.

these woflies gonan kick yo ass edward get tf out

i’m laughign nrow but nothigng funy is happening lmaoooo

fck carlisle is really hot as fuck his jawline kills me

i hate jasper’s hair here i’m sorry i know we all lovehim bt heis hair is a dam nmess

belal is so fuckign negative all the time no one is gonan get killed exceptsvictoris

THE COWBOOIIIII WHY DOES HE LOOKS LIKE OWNE WILSON IN THIS DAMN LIGHTIN? ALICE AND JASPER LOVE EACH TOHER SO MUCH MY APLOGIZKE MAAM FCK IT UP.

why thfe fuck is hake comparing his situaton with leah and sam and emily? We are nto the same hoe wae are not the same. bella is choosing edward sit yo ass down. but i still thin kyall are both problemastic as fuck in thos movie and hse deserves better.

CHARLIES DESEVRS  BTETER THEY KEEP LYIGN EVEN WHEN THEY DUCKGN DONT NEED TO

reblog if you thought edward and bella wre gona fuc, when she went over to his house in eclipse when yo ufirst read the book or saw the movue

he really oes love her a lot though fkcn i’m so alone 

 he looks si sad wgen he mentind ices tea on the porch poor edward

EVERY DANM MOMENR OF FOREVER BITCG I WANT  LOVE LIK THST 

LITERALLY THIS IS THE SUTPEIDEST PLOT EVER. A WHOLE FUCKIN ARMY TOO ATTACK ONE IGRL? BITCH. THIS AINT EVEM A THING. 

im gettign ral tired yall dik if i waill mke it to the end of this movie but i will tru

i hate the enrgey from jae and efard in this tent. ya’ll are both dumb hoes and she could do better than either ofy ou. 

WRHAT THE FUCK FASTER IF YOUR TOOK YORU CLOTHS OFF BITCH WHAT THE FUCK NOW I AM GONNA FUCKIN PUNCH YOU IB HOEP BELLA OUBCHES YOU WHEN SHES A VMAPRIE STUPID HOE 16 YEAR OLD SHOULD BE AT HOME IN BED INSTEAD OF IN A TENT TRYING TO FIGH A FCUKCN WAR

edward is such an emo boi in the tent and he thinsk she doesn;t lve him any more. yo ua stipiud hoe edearf but she still loves you anwyab ithc.

wheb edward said i’m not gonna force her into naythign ever agin i realized he was hte better man good for you eddie you fickun manned up you win

MY REASON FOR ESXITNST HOE I JST WNAT TO BE LOVED

now edwards bene a fuckboi again trying to hurt jake b ymaking sure he knew they were getting maried edward what the fuck iw was just starting to be on your side agian and you let me down like this

jacob is beign an emo boi now jake go be a child @ home and stop this nonsense you’re not a man go be a chid and take a nap and eat some grilled cheese youkk feel better

now she told him she wants to kiss him wtf bella don’t kead this bitch on he’s already in pain let hom gp home and eat a grilled cheese

mow bella’ supsetti spaghetti because edwards know she kissed jake

this shit is so unenecasialr dramtic wht the fuck yall  like a whole army ofver one girl and then its like all everyboyd trying kill everybody this is bulshittheyre all children who should eb at home eating grileld chesses not at war

victoria is a real bitch lying to this boy telling hin she lvoes him hoe bitch

og shit efward ifs pissed now he’s tauntign ab ithc

i acutaly kinda fel bad for riley he wnet through so mcuh and was manipulated i wish the cullens could have adopted him and bree

oshit is the volutire 

SAM DONT FUCKUGN TALK TO LEAH LIKE THAT EVER AGIAN YOU HOE

CARLISE AND I REPEAT AGAIB IS HOT AS FUCK FUCK CARLISRL

I LITERALLY AHTE THE VOLTURIE FOR KILLIGN VREE THEY WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN

JASPER KNOWS WHATS GOOD HE DOESN’T TURST THESE HOES

I’M SO PISEED THAT THE CULLENS NEVER FUCKING IFHT THE VOLTURIE LIKE CARLISLES IS SMART AS FUCK AND EHS TILL WONT START A DEMOCRAY LIKE YALL KNOW ROSLAIE WOULDVE FOGUHT FOR THAT SHIT TOO

 I LVOE YOUDADY CARLISLE

THIS 16 YEAR OLD LYING UP HERE BECAUSE OF TE DUMBASS WAR I TOLD YALL TO GO GOEN AND EA A GRILELD CHEDWE

poor jakie he knows hed better good for her but she reallys loves eward jake deserved better than what he got reblog is youf agree he jst said he’s even love her after she’s a vamprie bruh go eat a grilled chease and love yourself

WERE BACK IN THE FUCKING MEADOW ITS LIT AND ITS LOVELY I WANNA FALL IN LOVE IN A MEADOW WITH A HANDAOME MYSTERIOUS MAN WHO LOVES ME UNCODNITONATLY

KIRSTNE STEQARD IS THE WBEST AND SHE DESERVED AN OSCAR FOR THIS MOVIE HER AND NIKKI REED AND NODBOYD ELSE

fianlly this bitch is gonna beh onest with chalrie took you long enough

that was an anticlamtnc ending but i love love

[austrohungarianwriteblr]

Follower Celebration/WIP Excerpt: The Night We Met

60 followers? On my simple country blog? Amazing! Here, enjoy a snippet from the part of the tale where Our Heroes meet and it’s awkward for everyone. (which can alternately be summarized as “Marta, quit being horny on main, you’re scaring the hoes”). 

WIP Tag List (As usual, please give me a shout if you’d like to be added) :  @carumens, @galsinspace, @writingonesdreams, @booksnotbookies, @ren-c-leyn, @kiesinger, @ella-writes-words, @fields-of-ink, @halleiswriting

(Side note: If you follow my main blog you may have seen a version of this before. Please forgive me for airing a rerun).

At least partially to avoid Ludwig’s unsettlingly earnest gaze, Marta glanced over his shoulder at the small orchestra, whose members seemed thoroughly professional and focused despite not being in the Court Opera. The violinist closest to her was certainly entirely absorbed by the music; Marta’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, absentmindedly admiring his slightly-too-long dark red hair and long, elegant fingers. She didn’t know much about the Odysseum Opera Company, but they certainly seemed to be turning out nice-looking musicians… Then the violinist lifted his head, just slightly, and glanced in her direction. Good heavens. Now that was unfair. If Marta ever met God, she decided, she would have to have a very stern talk with Him about allowing mortal men to have eyes like that. Eyes that particular shade of blue-green, and of that intensity to the point where they seemed to be lit from within, belonged on pagan gods from the old Celtic folktales Marta’s English governess had told her—the sort who did interesting things like turning into foxes and kidnapping mortal girls to be their wives. Eyes like that had absolutely no business belonging to violin players in birthday-party orchestras. Was he looking at her? He had to be looking at her, or Marta thought she might scream, or do something equally ridiculous to get his attention. She eagerly leaned forward, hoping to catch his eye, her heart pounding in anticipation. “Marta? Are you all right?” Marta came back to herself with a start, suddenly aware that Ludwig was looking at her with concern in his pale blue eyes. With a twinge of embarrassment, she realized that while she had been staring at the violinist she had completely stopped moving her feet, leaving Ludwig to shift her about awkwardly. “Are you all right?” Ludwig asked again. “You’re looking a bit…feverish. Are you feeling ill?” “No, I’m really…” Marta put a hand to her cheek and realized, with surprise, that her face was quite warm. Probably bright red, too. How funny. “Do you know what, Ludwig, I think I am feeling a bit poorly. I must be tired from all the dancing. Would you excuse me for a moment? I believe I’ll sit down and have a glass of punch.” “Well, if you’re sure,” Ludwig said with a frown. “Would you like me to come with you?” “Oh, no, that’s quite all right. The dance is nearly over anyway, and I’m sure Sophie would be delighted to dance the next one with you. Don’t let me keep you.” Before Ludwig could object, Marta ducked out of his grasp and hurried to one of the benches set along the walls, dropping into a seat from which she could watch the handsome violinist to her heart’s content.

----

It was an agonizing twenty minutes before supper was announced and the orchestra was finally permitted to take a break. As groups of guests found partners to escort them to the dining room Marta hopped up from her seat, determined to find her violinist before the musicians disappeared down to the kitchens or wherever the help went during these breaks. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would say to him (a wordless scream of admiration, while representative of her feelings, was likely to be startling), but she could learn his name, at least. And congratulate him on how lovely the music had been. And stare at him some more. Thank God, it took her less than two minutes to find him. He was in the corner where the orchestra had been set up, engaged in an intense conversation with the Baron von Braumark, and was nodding valiantly as the Baron gestured wildly. Marta paused for a moment, inspecting his clothes with a connoisseur’s eye: his black suit was elegant, if threadbare, and she could not help but notice that his trousers were perhaps an inch too short for his long legs. Strangely enough, the air of shabbiness around him only made him more attractive, in a tragic way. “Ah, the lady of the hour!” Baron Ulrich boomed, seeing Marta approach them. “Mr. Király, I don’t believe you have made the acquaintance of Countess Marta von Holstadt, the very reason we are gathered here tonight. Countess, my dear, allow me to introduce Andras Király, one of the orchestra’s finest new violinists, fresh out of the Academy.” Andras turned those glowing turquoise eyes towards Marta, regarding her so intently it made her breath catch in her throat. Of course he was even more beautiful close up, Marta thought, her heart pounding. His cheekbones had to be sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyelashes were the longest Marta had ever seen on a man. Even his nose—which was on the long side, and had a bump in the middle—was utterly charming. And what a name he had. Andras Király. It sounded thoroughly heroic. He had to be Hungarian, with a name like that. “Countess,” Andras said politely, dipping into a graceful bow. He had a lovely voice, low and seductive, with a hint of a husky accent; Hungarian, just as she’d thought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Marta managed just the slightest of curtsies—if she bent any deeper, she thought, her slightly shaking knees were certain to give out. “Likewise, Mr. Király. And you must let me congratulate you…the music tonight has been absolutely lovely.” Andras looked down at her—quite significantly down, he had to be at least eight inches taller than her—and offered her a small but sincere smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, Countess. I won’t say I entirely agree with you, but then it’s not easy to be satisfied with one’s own performance, as I am sure you’ll know if you have ever played music yourself.” “Oh, yes, you’re quite right. I spent ten years taking piano lessons and I was always terrified of being asked to play at a party because if I made even the smallest mistake I’d be furious at myself all night. I remember once at Christmas when I was eleven I forgot what came next halfway through Silent Night and I wound up just playing the same line five times in a row…” Realizing she was starting to babble, Marta quickly bit off the end of her sentence. “I beg your pardon. What I mean to say is, you and the rest of the orchestra have been excellent, and we’re awfully grateful you’re here. The orchestra is lucky to have you, I think.” “On the contrary, I think I am the lucky one. It’s quite an honor to be able to work here in Vienna…” Andras’ jaw tightened as though he was suppressing a yawn, and for the first time Marta noticed the pale violet circles under his eyes, as though it had been a few days since he’d gotten a good night’s sleep. “…Though,” he added, looking away absentmindedly, “my father might disagree with me about that…” “Would he?” Marta leaned forward eagerly, sensing a hint of intrigue. “Why is that?” Andras blinked, as if only just remembering she and Baron Ulrich were there. “Nothing important,” he said quickly. “Forgive me for keeping you, Countess, Baron, I expect they’ll need you to lead everyone in to supper. Allow me to wish you a very happy birthday, Countess.” He bowed again, this time kissing the back of her hand—merely brushing his lips against her gloved fingers, but even that was enough to make Marta feel her skin had burst into flame. With this he departed, leaving Marta to admire the lean, graceful lines of his body as he walked away. “A very pleasant young man, that,” Baron Ulrich remarked. “Far too many of these artistic types, especially the Hungarians, have no sense of how to speak to their betters.” “Mmm,” said Marta vaguely. “He works for the Odysseum Opera Company, didn’t you say, Baron?” “Quite so. Not a bad little troupe, even if their theatre is a bit run-down. I believe their next production will be Don Giovanni; your family will have to accompany us to one of the performances.” “Oh, yes,” Marta agreed ardently. “I can’t think of anything I would like more.”