#(when is the effect going to wear off? is it ever? if they pull stan back is gravity going to fix itself?)

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

fic where ford and stan come across a gravity anomaly. stan ends up floating over a steep drop and ford can’t reach him to pull him back, because every time he feels the tugging on his hair, clothes, everything, he panics and has to step back

[maxwell-grant]

Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one. 

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction. 

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else. 

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea  considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play? 

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

Deep down you really mean that people who wear masks to protect themselves and their loved ones are sheep. It's because it's popular among Trumptards. Trumptards don't believe in science or the rights of others who disagree with the agenda of the Right Wing QAnon crazies. If you ever have to get surgery remember to tell the Surgeon and the nurses and the anesthesiologist that they shouldn't wear their masks. You have a tough immune system and frankly, you're just a tough guy anyway. A super hero among men. A stallion to women. A man of supreme knowledge! You hold yourself high on a pedestal along with the Fuhrer. HIs excellence. Donald, I'm a stable genius, Trump! Heil Hitler!!!!

Projecting much there anon? I mean do we just take "Trump" out of all of this and add Obama or Biden or your lord and savior the vaccine and it's godly icon the "mask" of infinite protection? I mean really, where I have I said I pray at the altar of Mr. Trump? I think if you look you'll see quite the opposite and I have taken some shit for not being "Stan" his biggest fan. I, unlike all the people who have regurgitated one mask falsehood after another, do understand the science of the mask, or lack thereof. Let's use your example and see how your understanding of mask science failed you right off the bat. "If you ever have to get surgery remember to tell the Surgeon and the nurses and the anesthesiologist that they shouldn't wear their masks." The Surgeon, the nurse, the anesthesiologist and all the support staff who enter the surgical area are sterile, as is the environment they are entering. So the mask is way way more effective when the fucking environment is sterile. You walking around all day long using the same shit mask well past it's effectiveness window, touching everything in the world, pulling your mask down, putting it back on and doing it all over again in no freaking way equates to a surgical mask being used in a surgical environment. Jack waggon. I'll add this little nugget for you to chew on, NO ONE IS FUCKING FIT TESTING MASKS. Bubba and Birtha in Bucksnort TN are not fit testing, Karen and Kyle in their penthouse apartment in Manhattan NY are not fit testing their masks and the President of the damned United States is not fit testing his mask so STFU about the effectiveness of surgical mask in fighting a virus that is on just about every surface you and I will touch every day. Just stop with your bullshit. I will say this for the cheap seats, IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU NEED TO WEAR A MASK, WEAR THE MASK. I support your right to do what you feel is best for you as a fucking individual. But don't presume for a moment that your fear somehow translates to me needing to capitulate to your will and misguided mask love. It's been what, 2+years I've been going without a mask and guess what, I'm still here, still kicking and still not afraid of CoVID. Go, be you, I support you in that venture, but stop trying to control everyone when the science doesn't support your broken premise. Oh and one more time for all the mask lovers who just can't help but force their bullshit on other people....

[princessofprocrastination]

Not Suitable (Quackity)

MASTERLIST

pairing : quackity x female reader

summary : quackity has always had a specific vision of what he wants his partner to look like and certain qualities he wants in them. unfortunately for you, you are the opposite of what he wants. (ANGST) 

-

as a kid, you loved the whole girly look. you wore dresses, short heels that came in a princess toy set, and wore pink lipstick all the time. 

but as time passed, as you grew older, your look changed completely. you like to say that you simply matured, that it wasn’t at all serious. slowly but surely as you were in your teenage years, your favourite colour became black. 

that didn’t mean you didn’t like pink or these other “girly” colours. sometimes, you’d even incorporate some of those bright colours in your outfits to make a statement. you just seemed to like black, it matches with everything. 

although you kept wearing black outfits or have black or dark nail polish on, your hair never stayed black or a dark colour. you just hated the look of the natural colour on yourself. it sure did fit other people, though. 

you liked to describe your style as trendy. you always follow the trends of recent times and wore what you thought looked good on you. 

-

you sat down next to sapnap, dream in the next room. you and sapnap had been friends since highschool. you skipped a grade, making yourself one of the youngest in that class which meant that you were lonely and no one really wanted to make friends with you. 

but that quickly changed when nick came up to you and offered to eat lunch with you. since then, he had been your soulmate. platonic soulmate. 

of course, being friends with nick meant that you were bound to meet the other two boys that he considered his best friends, too. it just so happens that you, george and clay ended up building an amazing friendship really quickly.

three guy bestfriends. that technically equals to having three big, protective big brothers. they really cared about you and you can see that, even if they often make fun of you. 

nick started his stream, facecam on as you sat on an extra gaming chair that clay had next to nick. you typed away on your phone as he started rambling about random things while waiting for more people to come on. 

apparently today you and nick were meant to play some scary game, you controlling the keyboard, him on the mouse. nick often forgot that it takes you a lot to get scared. 

“we’re making this video inspired by quackity and karl’s stream from a while ago.” nick told his stream, you nodding your head to agree. 

you smiled softly at the name he mentioned. quackity. it was apparent to everyone that you had some sort of crush on him. the small smiles, the little blush that rose to your cheeks if someone were to mention your ship name or tease you about it. 

it was all too obvious. of course the three boys you call your best friends knew, you’d never keep such a secret from them. but no matter how annoying the boys can be, they never once told anyone else about your not-so-little crush. 

but that didn’t mean they didn’t tease you. they enjoyed it whenever your face would turn red, whether it being you’re embarrassed or you’re mad. 

the only weird part is that nowadays, they don’t even bother to tease you anymore, not like they used to. you knew they were hiding something from you, you just didn’t know what they were hiding. 

for example, you seated next to sapnap, grinning as he mentions quackity’s name. he would never let you live down that moment. he’d tease you senseless. but this time, he only glanced at you and looked back to the stream.

and what was that? seemed like a pity glance. almost looked like he felt bad. 

you two continued the stream as the ‘scared counter’ keeps going up as sapnap keeps getting scared, you constantly laughing at him. 

“HOW ARE YOU NOT EVEN FLINCHING?” nick screams in your ear. 

“cause i’m not a pussy.” you answered him simply. 

“oh shut up, will you.” he rolled his eyes, you laughed at him being a scaredy-cat. 

you two played for a while more as the counter on the bottom left of the stream screen gets higher and higher. soon enough it reached it’s limit which meant that sapnap needed to end his stream. 

-

it was weird how time works. one second, things were mellow and slow, just like how your everyday is, and the next second, your name was trending everywhere. 

you didn’t even want to check why at first, since you knew how weird and surprising your followers are.

“dude, you need to check twitter.” nick told you in a hurry while he runs from the second floor, to the kitchen in the first floor where you were sitting, editing a video for your channel. 

so you did exactly that. you scrolled through the trending page and clicked on your name. then, you saw hundreds, if not thousands edits and videos of quackity and your video. 

the video of yours that was posted was the part when you smiled at the mention on quackity’s name but as you scrolled more, it seemed that everyone had dug through and collected snippets of you blushing or smiling when quackity was mentioned or when you were on call with him. 

you and quackity were no stranger to each other. the two of you knew each other, sapnap and him being friends and all. you just couldn’t help but fall for him. he’s just extremely charming. 

although your exterior showed otherwise, you really swooned just by looking at his pictures. 

and that’s why all the stans are going crazy. they didn’t think you’d fall for someone, especially not a man who act like a child on the internet. but you can’t predict people, especially not who they like, or more, love. 

you slowly panicked. this was embarrassing to you. more so that it’s all over the internet. there was no way you could erase all of the posts. 

on the outside, you looked composed, like it didn’t effect you at all. but nick knew you well, he knew you had a million thoughts in your head at that point. 

you were just a second close to getting into a panic attack. “hey, hey. calm down, everything’s good.” nick coos in your ear as he pulls you close to him. he knew that you hated to be left alone when you panic. 

you hated this feeling. it felt so unnecessary and it felt like you were making matters bigger than it actually is. 

but the boys would tell you otherwise, they’d make sure that thought leaves your head as soon as it reached.

your body being rocked back and forth helped you calm down as you slowly start to forget the reason of your panic in the first place. 

-

when you do come back to stream regularly, you tried to play off like nothing had happened, like it was all a dream. 

that is one bad habit you couldn’t get rid of for some reason. you liked to just run away from your problems, big or small. you would often play it off like it didn’t matter to you, eventhough it is very much the opposite. 

you’re just scared of getting hurt. you didn’t want to hear the rejection, you could never brace yourself for that kind of pain. 

but somehow this was different. you braced yourself. you didn’t know what drove you to it, but you did. maybe it was the small signs your friends showed you that you never noticed. it was like you knew that rejection was bound to happen, and that this one would hurt the most. 

you told yourself that you would never let yourself get hurt over someone, especially males. it just never made sense. they were never really worth your time, anyways. 

although personally you’ve never ended a relationship of yours badly, just maturely, you’ve read and heard how painful relationships can be. and you never understood why people kept going back into relationships when they hurt so much. 

but you get it. he’s simply addicting. you felt like you couldn’t distance yourself from him. but you needed to. and you knew that. all your friends told you that. 

you weren’t going to let some man put you down because of what you look like. 

granted, it hurt at first, but you learnt to heal, you learnt that although he probably isn’t going to be the only man who hurts you, you needed to suck it up and not show him the pain you felt. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

to summarise it all. quackity finally beat around the bush and came out with a statement on his own on his stream. 

content creators or public figures often learn that they need to leave things for private, that they can’t spill everything out for people to hear. that causes drama. 

but he didn’t stand back at all. everything he thought about you was shared on stream for all his viewers to know. maybe you liked him for his persona after all, not the real him. 

-

“talk about it?” quackity read his donation. 

“sure, i will.” he started. here it comes. 

nick told you that in order to heal and move past the pain quickly, you can’t run away from your problems, to face the current issue. so he made you watch quackity’s stream. 

you didn’t feel like shedding a single tear today because of how exhausted you are from crying for hours on end, but still agreed to your bestfriend’s wishes to sit through a long stream. 

to be honest, you weren’t expecting him to speak on it, given the amount of time he’s waited. it’s been a couple months since it happened so you could only imagine the shock of his viewers when he finally did say something. 

maybe the constant spam finally got to him.

“she’s not my type, chat.” he said. oh, that wasn’t so bad. no pain just yet. 

“she’s far from it.” okay that pinched you a little. were you really that bad. you waited for his explanation. 

“she looks so emo all the time, it’s scares me. does she ever not wear black?” ouch. and yes, yes you do.

“she’s just not what i like in women. i like soft girls who are respectful and know when to keep their mouth shut and definitely a little more conservative.” whoa. okay, maybe that hurt extra than the rest. 

you turned to nick, he had the same shocked look on his face, clearly not expecting to hear that come out of his good friend’s mouth, especially on stream. 

quackity doesn’t end there. he pulls out his phone, typing away. soon he pulled up a picture of you from your instagram account, showing his stream. 

“she looks like she barely graduated highschool. she’s not one with a future, chat. just stop shipping us. i don’t like that.” he finally finishes, locking his phone and putting it down, continuing playing his game from earlier. 

you closed your eyes for a while, trying to process it all. 

“are you going to cry?” your bestfriend says from next to you. you shook your head. 

“i’m furious.” you told him, voice soft but slightly menacing. 

“holy shit. i’ve been waiting for this.” nick says, jumping in his seat. you knew exactly what he meant. 

you aren’t the type to get mad. you only got mad jokingly. and as much as you look emo and depressed all the time, you’re practically a walking sunshine, you just don’t show it due to your resting bitch face. 

and although nick and you have been friends for god knows how long, it wasn’t often he saw you mad. and it excites him to see you enraged, to say the least. to him, you always ‘pop off’ when you’re mad. 

you made sure you cooled off slightly before you go off on the man. you didn’t want to do things you would regret, after all. but to you, you didn’t think you’d regret anything at this point. 

you waited a couple days before you tweeted something. 

it was simple, your tweet. just two photos. first, it was a photo of your acceptance letter to harvard law school from a year ago, followed by a photo of you carrying thick and heavy textbooks for school that was taken by nick when he visited you in campus. 

it was captioned, “not one with a future.” simple, but it was obvious that this was going to blow up. you looked up from your phone to nick before you tweeted it. 

you two shared a smile. a grin, if you will. it was like the two of you knew what that tweet would do. 

you knew this was going to be surprising to your followers, too. you’ve never spoken about going to school after highschool. sure, if they scrolled far enough on your channel and listened through everything, they might know you skipped grades, which was the reason you met nick but most of them didn’t know. and you didn’t blame them. 

what you would blame them for is that they sat and listened to everything quackity said in that stream. they all thought you were just one dumb, depressed girl who had no future. one that relied on a social media career. 

only if they knew how wrong they are. well, that didn’t matter now. they all knew. 

that was the only tweet you sent out regarding the matter. you didn’t want to prolong it, it isn’t worth your time.

when you did stream a couple days after you sent out that tweet, your twitch viewers sky-rocketed. it was weird, almost. but they weren’t there to patronise you. the opposite, really. they said sweet words, donated generous amounts and gifted plenty of subs. 

you would answer questions as donations slowly came in. and one in particular caught you eye.

“why aren’t you in school.” the monotoned woman asked. 

“i’m not currently in school because it is closed due to the pandemic. but i’m currently attending it online.” you answered swiftly, not really focused on the question but more to the parkour you were doing. 

from time to time, your eyes glanced at your chat to see if they said anything that caught your eye, apart from the ones that bashed you for liking their favourite content creator. 

it cracked you up to see how far stans would go to protect their favourite creators. granted, it made you feel a little envious seeing how many people unfollowed you when the drama happened. you wanted to know just who would stand with you, besides your actual friends. 

“what would you describe your style?” the monotonous woman spoke once again as a donation came in. 

“thank you for the 10.” you started, and then pausing to actually think about it before you answered. 

“i think my style is a little more dark but not emo, as most people call it. i also don’t dress conservative.” you finished, feeling good about your answer. 

you were not brought up in a conservative family, so that was shown in the way you dressed. no, you never really left the house in your bra and jeans, not saying that style isn’t cute, but you never stopped yourself from showing a little bit of skin. 

you also were not the type to get insecure, so reading through comments on your posts have never really affected you. but there was something about the comment quackity said that made you rethink about a lot of things. 

you hated that feeling, though. you hated that you let a man say things about you and made you feel apologetic about it. you knew it should never be like that. why did you let a man step all over you? it irked you that you stooped so low. 

things also never got easy after the little drama. sure, you gained a little more publicity, but you felt nauseous knowing what attracted them. you’re just now constantly reminded how you got a higher number of following. 

nonetheless, you’re grateful for the platform given to you, although this wasn’t the path you chose to take. 

it didn’t take you long to recover from the tiny insecurity you found yourself having. you started not caring even more, posting even more photos of you. some might say you grew to be a narcissist. 

but you enjoyed it. it showed people just how much you grew and learnt from what happened. 

you’re glad you moved forward from it and never dwelled on the things he said about you. 

also, did you mention that quackity apologised? 

guess not. 

Part 2

[queenofspades20]

Birthday Boy

Happy birthday to my favorite fictional boyfriend. Just some fluff in honor of Bucky’s birthday.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: this is just fluff, maybe a few curse words. Enjoy!!

_____________________________________________________

Bucky and Y/n were sitting on the couch watching Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I’m telling you, Buck. The douchey ski patrol guy looks just like you!” Y/n insisted. Every time the actor popped up on the screen, Bucky just shook his head.

“I don’t see it, Doll.”

“Then you need glasses, old man!”

“Old man?” Bucky’s head snapped in Y/n’s direction. He had an incredulous look on his face. “You weren’t calling me old man last night.”

“Not my fault you’re going blind, Babe. Sebastian Stan is clearly your doppelganger. Your younger doppelganger,” Y/n said with a smirk, putting emphasis on younger. She knew she was picking a battle with Bucky but she wanted to see how far he would let her go before putting an end to it.

Bucky knew what she was up to. He loved seeing her smile, even if it was at his expense, but he was only going to let her go so far.

“I see how it is.” He leaned over and pushed her to lay down, climbing on top of her. Bucky grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head with his metal hand, his flesh hand moving down her sides, tickling her.

“Bucky, NO!” Y/n yelled out. “I was just teasing. With your birthday tomorrow, I gotta get my shots in while I can! You know I can’t help myself.” She squirmed her body, trying to move away.

Bucky shifted so his legs were on either side of Y/n’s, effectively trapping her. He started tickling her sides.

“NO! BUCKY!!” Y/n tried to pull her body away, but he was too heavy on top of her.

“I’ll show you old man.” While tickling her, he started kissing her face and neck. They were laughing, Y/n trying to desperately get away from Bucky’s hand, when Bucky felt cold water hitting his back.

“HEY!” Bucky yelled, turning around. He saw Sam and Steve standing there, laughing.

“I had to cool you off,” Sam said. He held up an empty glass and shook it. “No sex on the couch.”

Bucky let go of Y/n and got up to run after Sam. “Get over here, Birdbrain.”

Sam took off running to his room with Bucky close behind him.

Y/n looked at Steve. “He was tickling me because I called him old man. But he refuses to acknowledge he looks like the actor in Hot Tub Time Machine!”

The movie was at a scene with Blaine, the character Y/n was referring to. She pointed to the screen and Steve looked.

“I don’t see it.” Steve shrugged and walked off.

“Argh! Thor save me from old men who need glasses!”

 The next morning, Y/n got up before Bucky to cook him breakfast. She had a day planned of doing activities Bucky loved. She made pancakes, bacon, and eggs with some coffee and loaded up a tray with the food. She made her way back to their shared room. Bucky was not in bed, but she could hear him in the bathroom.

“Doll?” Bucky called out.

“I have breakfast. I was hoping you’d still be in bed, or did I not tire you out?” Y/n cheekily answered.

Bucky stuck his head through the doorway. “I thought I had tired you out.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes. “Get out here, birthday boy, so I can give you your first present.”

Bucky quickly made his way over to the bed. “Breakfast with you is a good present.”

He settled onto the bed and Y/n placed the tray over his lap. “A hearty breakfast to get through the morning, because we’re going on a little trip.”

Bucky looked intrigued. “Are you going to tell me where?”

“Nope. I did think we could take your bike, since it’s a gorgeous day out.”

“You know how to drive a motorcycle? And who said I would be okay with you driving my bike?”

“One, rude. Two, I got lessons from Steve. I can get us to where we are going no problem. I even did a test drive with Steve a few days ago.”

Bucky looked impressed. “I still don’t know.”

Y/n looked at Bucky with a pout. “Please, Baby? I promise I know what I’m doing and I really want this to be a surprise.”

Bucky hesitated. He had a hard time saying no to her but he also loved his bike. “Fine, but if you seem hesitant at all, we pull over and switch.”

“Deal!” Y/n smiled widely. “Now dig in, Baby.”

They ate their breakfast and then got dressed for the day. As they made their way to the garage, Y/n held up a blindfold.

“You’re not wearing that while driving,” Bucky joked.

Y/n gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re wearing it first. I want this to be a surprise. I’ll wear it later if you’re a good boy, though. Let you do whatever you want.”

Bucky felt his pants get tighter. “Careful, Doll. Keep talking like that and we won’t make it out of the compound. But I’m going to hold you to that later,” he said as he took the blindfold.

They settled on the motorcycle and Bucky put the blindfold on. “Can you see anything, Bucky?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then. Hold on.” Y/n started the motorcycle and Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist.

They took off. It was a weird feeling for Bucky to not know where they were going, but he trusted Y/n. After a while, Bucky felt the bike slow down. He could hear crowds and screams of joy in the background. After the bike was stopped, Y/n looked over her shoulder.

“You can take off the blindfold now.”

Bucky slipped of the blindfold and smiled when he saw they were at Coney Island.

“Good surprise?” Y/n asked and bit her lip.

“Best surprise.” Bucky hugged her close.

“Good. I wanted you to have fun and not worry about the world and this seemed to fit what I wanted.”

“It’s perfect.” Bucky got off the bike and helped Y/n off.

They spent their morning at Coney Island, riding everything they could and playing several games. Y/n made sure to win a stuffed bear for Bucky. Bucky really enjoyed the Cyclone and regaling Y/n with the story of how he made Steve ride it back in the day. They had lunch and then decided to finish their visit with the Wonder Wheel. At the top of the ride, they shared a kiss.

“Good birthday so far?”

“Best I think I’ve ever had.” Bucky looked at Y/n like she hung the moon.

“Ready to head back to the compound? The team has a small party planned for you.”

Bucky had a hesitant look on his face.

Y/n rushed to assure him. “Nothing like Tony’s usual parties. It’s just the team and significant others. We want to celebrate you turning 104.”

Bucky looked relieved. “That’s fine. As long as you promise to not leave my side all night.”

“Like I would leave you anyways.”

Bucky and Y/n made their way back to the bike. Bucky immediately got on and looked at Y/n. “I’m driving back. You did a good job but I wanna drive.”

Y/n laughed and climbed behind Bucky, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I figured you’d want to drive back. I only cared about surprising you here. And maybe after the party.”

Bucky reached down and squeezed her hands. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Bucky.”

They made their way back to the compound and got ready for the party. Y/n put on a deep red knee-length dress that fit her body in a way that showcased all her favorite assets. She kept her hair and makeup simple, since the party wasn’t going to be crazy. She made her way out of the bathroom and saw Bucky buttoning up his shirt. He looked up as she walked in to grab her shoes. As she passed him, he grabbed at her hand and pulled her close.

“You look delectable,” Bucky murmured. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. His arms slid around her waist, his hands moving down until they cupped her ass. Y/n smiled at Bucky and put her arms around his neck.

“Glad you like. I bought the dress just for tonight.”

“So, another present for me? I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you.”

“Well, that is a perk of it being your party. We go for a while and then leave early and you can unwrap me and put that blindfold to use.”

Bucky groaned. “Can’t we just skip the party?”

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. “No. You know they’ll just barge in here. If we make an appearance, then we won’t be interrupted later.”

“Fine.” Bucky grumbled. He pouted as they left their room and made their way to the common area where the party was set up. Bucky was hoping if he pouted enough, Y/n would let him leave extra early.

“Your pouting isn’t going to work, Baby.” Y/n said over her shoulder, smiling.

Bucky gave up the pout and smiled back. “Worth a shot.”

When they entered the room, it was filled with the team and their partners. Steve had brought Sharon, who was happy to have made it in time, having been on a mission for the past few weeks. Clint and Natasha stood together, Clint’s arm around Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda and Vision were holding hands. Bruce had excitedly brought Betty Ross, who had recently come back into his life. Sam and Peter stood with their girlfriends and Tony and Pepper were happily hugging.

“Happy birthday, Bucky!” everyone yelled as Bucky and Y/n entered the room. Bucky felt so happy to be surround by his friends. Tony and Steve had hung up a banner that said “happy 104th birthday” and there were streamers all around the room. On the coffee table was a cake with a pile of presents for Bucky. Tony had set up a bar to the side, fully stocked with a bartender there to make everyone’s night easier. Though Thor couldn’t stay, he had dropped off some Asgardian mead for the super soldiers earlier that week. There was also a buffet table with various foods that Bucky loved, both from back in the 40s and from now.

The party had been going for a few hours and everyone was having a good time. Bucky and Steve had gotten into the mead and were feeling its effects. Bucky had opened his presents, loving everything he got, especially his new knife from Y/n.

“Doll, you already did breakfast and Coney Island. This is too much,” Bucky said as he admired the tactical knife. It had a black and blue carved handle with a steel blade that had a blue sheen.

“I saw it and thought of you,” Y/n said with a shrug. “The blade reminds me of your eye color.”

Bucky leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t wait to use it on my next mission.”

“Only you would be that excited for a knife,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Shut it, Pigeon.”

Sam just rolled his eyes with a smile. After presents were done and the cake was eaten, Bucky decided he was ready to finish his night in the bedroom with Y/n, wanting to make use of the blindfold. He looked over at Y/n and caught her eye. Bucky gave her a smirk that signaled he was ready to go.

“Well, thank you everyone for a truly great birthday. I can’t thank you enough for everything.”

“You deserve it, Punk,” Steve said, Sharon cuddled into his side.

“Definitely my best birthday yet.” Bucky pulled Y/n close and kissed her temple.

Y/n smiled, ready to start trouble. “I think that’s my cue to get this old man to bed.”

Everyone laughed while Bucky looked down at her in faux shock. “Old man??”

Y/n laughed as she stood up. “I mean, you are 104. I’m surprised you lasted this long.” She slowly made her way over towards the door. “Do we need to get you a cane or maybe a walker?”

Bucky jumped up and moved quickly towards Y/n. She let out a yell and ran towards their room. “I’ll show you old man, Doll,” Bucky yelled out as he chased her.

Everyone heard Y/n yell, “bring it on, senior citizen!”

Sam looked at Tony. “Thank you for soundproofing their room.”

“That was a present for all of us.”

[snlhostharry]

romeo and juliet thing

harry styles x reader

“rivals” to lovers au 

~3k words

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex 

my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s to lovers challenge, congrats on your milestone! 

a/n: amazing thing I realized while writing this: if you don’t put it off you can actually get it done in a reasonable amount of time... I will not be applying this to any other aspects of my life 

You’ve come to enjoy album release parties. The first one you’d ever been to was the one for your first album, something someone from your publicity team has put together, which they did a decent job on but you did not have a good time. You were so nervous about the album coming out at all that you tried to use alcohol to calm your nerves, so you can’t really remember anything about it besides briefly throwing up in the bathroom. After that incident, you resolved not to drink before the party ever again and the next few you’d been too for other artists were actually fun in their own special ways. 

By the time your second album is on the cusp on release, you’ve decided that you deserved it after the mess of writer's block you’d gotten in the middle of trying to write the thing, which had gotten so bad that you’d been called into a “special meeting” by management where they talked for what felt like hours about deadlines and marketing and basically tried to intimidate you into finishing faster. Something happened that allowed you to finish, it was an odd timing but it did help. 

But that was ages ago, and you’re trying to focus on the party. 

Which is easy enough, winding through the room talking to friends and investors, small talk is easy when you're trying to avoid something else. You’re talking to someone who’s name you are definitely not going to remember when this is over, when out of the corner of your eye you think you see someone who should definitely not be here. When you're finally released from said conversation you walk around the room, trying to find the intruder. You make your way all the way back to the bathroom, when suddenly the person you’ve been looking for slams right into you. 

You’re far enough in a corner that you think no one can see you, which is good because if anyone got photos of the two of you together you would never hear the end of it. Harry Styles looks at you like he’s been caught in the act, the guilty expression not leaving his face even as he says, “Funny seeing you here.” 

“At my own party?” You ask. 

He licks his lips, trying to buy time to think of something to say. “Before you say anything,” He says, treading cautiously, “I was told to come here.” 

You narrow your eyes, “By who?” 

“Someone who works for me,” He replies, “Which means that someone who works for you gave them the information.” 

You groan, “Of course they did, well at least make sure they get your good side when someone comes around to take photos.” 

He smiles at that, “That’s every side, love.” 

You shake your head, typing a message on your phone and quickly sending it, “It’s not but it’s cute that you think so.” 

“Ignoring that little comment,” He says, seeing that your attention is divided between him and the person you seem to be very angrily texting. “It’s a good song you wrote, I’m excited to hear the rest of the album.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening, “Thank you..?” He tilts his head to the side gently, clearly his way of asking a question without actually asking a question. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize we were doing the thing where we pretend this is normal, and you are normally at my party.”

He laughs, “Didn’t know there was pretending involved.” 

“I’m just so used to pretending to loathe you all day everyday that it's just so natural,” You say, and wait to see if he’ll get the joke. 

He shrugs, “Really? I don’t think of you all that much.” 

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you can respond, one message sits unread underneath the ten you’d sent a few minutes earlier in rapid succession. Honestly? I invited him because I thought it would be fun. Of course that would be her rationale for not telling you about this very obvious stunt. Inviting your “rival” to your album release party is the perfect way to get your name in some headlines conveniently before the whole thing goes live, not like you need them but then again you do pay people to manage this kind of thing so they figure they should be doing something. 

Oh yeah, Harry is supposed to be your “rival.” Think of some of the most infamous musical feuds of all time, and then knock it down a few pegs, and that’s where you would put yours and harrys. No one knows how it really started, something between a couple of twitter stans you’ve been told, but it suddenly gave each of your respective “people” the genius idea to milk that kind of exposure for all that it’s worth. The two of you have been pit against each other ever since the release of your debut albums, both self titled and both released within two weeks of each other. It hasn’t harmed either of you, being compared to the other, since you’re both pretty evenly matched in terms of talent. 

It seems to only exist to make the occasional headline when the media remember that it “exists.” There have been headlines wondering if you’ve mentioned him in tik toks (you didn’t) in instagram posts (you were shading someone but not him) and if this whole thing started due to a one night stand that went the wrong way (definitely not). 

You pull yourself back into the conversation, realizing you're being rude trying to think of something to respond to the text message. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Who are you rage tweeting over there?”

“Rage texting actually,” You say as another one comes through, “Fucking Melanie.” 

“Unfortunate that her parents gave her that as a first name.”

You look up at him right away, “Not funny.” He laughs at his own joke anyway, “Melanie-” You say, holding up your phone for dramatic effect, “Is the head of the PR team, which is three people but anyway she is the one who seems to have coordinated this whole thing as a prank on me apparently.” 

“It’s kind of funny,” He says. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m sure from your point of view it is.” Suddenly, someone comes rounding the corner near where the two of you are standing, and you freeze on instinct until they pass right in front of you without even looking in your direction. You realize that in a panic, you’d grabbed onto Harry’s hand and you decide that the two of you are going to have to finish this conversation somewhere else. “Come with me,” You sigh, leading him through the back of the room all the way to a small door that leads to an outside area at the back of the venue. You look at him again, his eyes glinting in the lights hanging above your heads. “What were we talking about?”

“Are you ever listening to me?” He asks, half joking. 

“Don’t take it personally I’m only half listening to everyone,” You answer, “It’s called multitasking.” 

“Seems tiring.” 

“Better than being bored,” You say.

He looks at you for a second without saying and then shoves his hands in his pockets, “Why are we out here again?” 

“I’m trying to figure out what’s the game plan here, if you’re supposed to be seen here alone, seen with me, if I’m supposed to throw some kind of tantrum about it.” 

“Besides the one your already throwing?” 

You stop looking at your phone, “Ouch.” 

“Punishment for continuing to ignore me.”

You turn off your phone and hold it in your hand gently, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening, but only if you’re going to say something that it’s some kind of thinly veiled insult,” You click your tongue, “You’re one of those guys who flirts by making fun of girls aren’t you?” 

He thinks about it, “That’s a type?” 

“Yeah, for people who are still mentally in high school.” 

“So you wouldn't be interested then?” 

You smile, thinking about it. Here’s the thing, despite the fact you very much have been pretending to loathe Harry Styles for two years just so you don’t slip it if someone asks, you recognise now that he is objectively attractive. The curls, and the eyes and the borderline too busy suit jacket he’s wearing (that both of you know costs an exorbitant amount) is all contributing to a look that is working for you at the moment. Also working in his favor? The semi enemies to lovers arc that you have going on in your head. “Despite the fact that I think that kind of flirting is beneath you, at this moment, it’s currently working for me.” 

You take a step forward, closer to him, and suddenly your phone starts going off again. You check it briefly, trying very much not to ruin the moment but very cognizant of the fact that this is your party and people are going to start noticing if you're gone. You look down, see it’s not a life or death emergency and look right back at Harry. “Let me guess,” He says, “She wants you to kiss me for the cameras?”

You laugh, “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.” You kiss him, he leans in and you think that you might just seal the deal with harry styles out on this very nice patio when your phone rings again. You pull away when it’s clear that whoever it is needs you desperately, you look at the message, and groan, “Fucking Melaine.” You look towards the door and back at Harry, “Okay this is not over, but I have to go take care of stuff, so just meet me here after the whole thing is over and we will finish this thing.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” You smile, “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending.” You pause, “Well maybe with the end if Melanie kills me with her bare hands for not talking to this producer she wants me to meet.” 

“Later, then.” 

You take him back to your apartment that night. And you invite him back the next day, and then the week and then a few more times after that. As much as you had meant it a joke at the time, the kind of forbidden lovers aspect of trying to keep this whole thing under wraps is sexy in a way that you would never admit outloud. 

You’ve both become shockingly adept at sneaking in and out of apartments, neighborhoods (Harry has multiple priorities; why that is you're not exactly sure) and sometimes clubs if you're in a group and it’s dark enough that you think no one will see you. 

“Should I climb up through the window?” You ask Harry as you stand in the backyard of his house in London,  swimsuit clad even though you’ve gone nowhere near the pool. 

Harry looks at you from his place on the ground next to you. He’d refused to get a chirhair to sit on, so he just sits on the ground, looking out over the pool and the fence. “Why would you do that?” 

“Romeo and Juliet thing, didn’t he climb through the window to see her?”

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around your bare legs in some attempt to keep your attention on him, “I don’t know, never read it.” He laughs a little, “But I think if you did that some pap would catch you with your ass hanging out of my window.” 

You laugh too, “And you would never fucking stop laughing at that.” 

“No, I would not.” 

You kick your leg out so that you almost hit him right in the face, “Fucker, I thought you were over being mean to me as a tactic. You have successfully romanced me.” 

“Really? Because you’re staring at the house like you’re going to kill me for my money.” 

“You’d put me in your will? That’s sweet,” You turn to him, pulling your sunglasses onto the top of your head. 

“You are so hot right now.”

“It is hot,” You say, looking out at the clear sky, “What an observation.” 

“You’re screwing with me.” 

“Because I’m too tired to screw you at the moment,” You say, “Can’t we just enjoy one day in one of your two properties out in the sun before you start making me exercise?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.” 

“It is work,” You say, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that song you played yesterday, I think it needs to be less.. Ethereal.” 

“What does that mean?” 

You sit down next to him, laying your head in the grass. “Harry Styles is a rockstar, if you’re going to do a sad song, which seems to be your specialty, it needs to at least have a beat.” 

“People don’t want to dance to sad songs.” 

“Dude,” You say matter of factly, “Of course they do, I do and I think I speak for a very large section of the United States population.You need a sad song you can at the very least scream too, if not full out dance.” 

“So what’s your suggestion?” He asks. 

“Add more guitar,” You tell him, “Like a lot more. Take all the lyrics you have and put them on a track that sounds like it should be about your new puppy or something.” 

“Who writes songs about puppies?” 

“It was an example, H.” You sigh, “but you get the point.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Don’t be like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you let it go as one of his moods for a while. But it goes on for longer than you thought it would be, and eventually you sit up. He’s staring down at his phone, frozen, and then he starts typing without saying anything to you. “What are you looking at?” You ask him, and he doesn’t say anything. “What is it H?” You ask again. 

“Fuck it all,” He says, dropping his phone to the ground, and covering his face with his hands as he laid down with his head in the grass. 

You pick his phone up off the ground and see that he’s opened twitter. Staring right back at you is a picture of the two of you kissing outside a small restaurant from the night before, you rack your brain trying to think if you saw anywhere when you were there and you swore you didn’t. Like it or not, everyone is going to know about the two of you now, including Melanie who had told you not to interact with Harry after the party expressly. “Shit,” You say, and your phone begins to ring the sound of Temporary Fix filling the small backyard. 

“Fucking Melanie,” Harry says, still lying on the ground, “She’s going to ream me.” 

“Well at least she’ll do it to both of us,” You groan, not even bothering to go and get your phone. You stand up, as a tension headache begins to form in your temples, “Well I’m going to get into the pool.” 

“Now?” He asks you. “Seems like the perfect way to avoid this problem, doesn’t it?” 

He also gets to his feet, and takes your hand, “Yeah it does.” 

And together the two of you jump into the pool. 

It’s an hour before you finally call Melanie back, even though you meant to avoid it for at least another hour. You sit at the kitchen counter while Harry takes a call in another room, dreading this call because you do not want to hear her yell at you for nothing, mostly because you're a grown woman and are above being lectured. 

“Were you just not going to tell me about this?” 

“Yes, that was the plan.” 

“I told you not to-”

“Yeah but I had already made plans by then that I couldn’t cancel.” 

“There was one man in the entire world, who you couldn’t fuck-”

“I know, what are the odds?” 

“Could you please stop fucking with me for one second?” She says, “This is serious.” 

“It’s not that bad, for you I mean.” You shrug, “I mean for me my personal business is all out on the internet now and I’ll be permanently known as one of Harry Styles’ girlfriends but for you what’s better press wise than a good ol enemies to lovers arc? I won’t tell anyone the enemies part wasn’t real if you won’t.” 

You hear her sigh from the other end of the phone, and then tap her nails against the desk. “You might be onto something there.” 

“I’m always onto something Melanie, I’m the artist here aren’t I?” And you hang up, before you say something that you’ll regret. You’d meant what you said, you were mostly just uncomfortable with everyone knowing who you're dating, especially the harry twitter stans who are known for being very excitable to say the least, you could see why they liked him so much but you would be lying if you said they didn’t scare you. You think of all the interviews you’ll do in the future where people will ask about him, about your relationship and maybe about how it ended. 

Harry comes back into the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. He opens both and sets one out in front of you. “How did it go?” 

“Fine,” You say. You look at him, “Is this the part where we break up because you can’t be seen with me?” You put your face into the counter and let out another groan. 

“Never,” He says, taking a drink, “No one else I would rather weather this shit-storm with.” 

You smile, “Same here.” 

[thegreymoon]

Monarch Industry

Oh, is that so?

Smh. Shut up, you two-faced opportunist.

***

Oh, god 😑

This besotted loser! Like she doesn’t have enough to worry about without his delusional pampered ass there to hinder her. 

***

Looks like Wanru’s affection killing pill isn’t working as well as it should. 

***

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up 🤬🤬

I hold you in contempt, let alone her! You’re so fucking useless. How dare you show up like this after she’s married? 

Also, imagine thinking someone would leave Xiao Qi for the likes of him once you’ve had the opportunity to compare. 

***

OH, YOU DARE 🤬🤬

SHE WAITED FOR YOU IN THE RAIN THE ENTIRE NIGHT WHILE YOU TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT TO COME. YOU SHOWED UP IN THE MORNING, WITH THE SUN HIGH UP IN THE SKY, AFTER HER FATHER HAD MURDERED AT LEAST 8 INNOCENT PEOPLE BECAUSE OF YOU. GO FUCK YOURSELF WITH A CACTUS. 

***

Yes, princess, tell him to fuck off. 

It’s now been two episodes without Xiao Qi, and here we have this self-absorbed, spineless loser taking up all out time. Kick him out! 

***

YOU’VE ALREADY LOST HER, YOU MORON!

DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT AFTER EXPERIENCING XIAO QI SHE WOULD EVER GO BACK TO YOUR USELESS SELF? GO DIE 💀💀

***

Well, shit. 

Here is your opportunity, Zitan, to be even more useless and embarrass yourself some more. 

***

She’s splendid 🔥🔥

***

AND WHAT’S THE USE OF YOU?

***

LMAO, he knows that the priest is poisoning him.

****

@orsuliya​ Awu’s collarbones, just for you 🖤

***

Aww, baby, I miss you! 😭

We all miss you! Please come and take back your screen time from the muppet!

***

Well, shit. 

***

I can’t believe they forced them into a retreat!

Go, general Song, go!!

***

NOOOO, THEY BREACHED THE GATE!

***

Oh, shut up and go yourself.

You are nothing but a nuisance anyway. Wearing white robes in the middle of a siege, how useless. Stop bothering her, can’t you see she’s busy, unlike some jobless people. 

***

YES, AWU, TELL HIM!!

THE WAY I STAN HER!! *waves all her flags*

***

Cackling like a deranged hyena rn 🤣🤣 

YES, PRINCESS, SPEAK ALL OUR MINDS!! 

***

XIAO QI, AT LAST!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭

IN HIS MAGNIFICENT EMBROIDERED CLOAK!! 

***

So much love for Song Huaien 💖💖

***

LMAOOOO, his face 🤣🤣

This is what happens when you meet a true God of War, asshole! 

***

NO, BUT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND 😭😭

I AM CURRENTLY REPORTING FROM A PUDDLE OF MY TEARS BECAUSE THEY ARE MURDERING ME 😭😭

***

They are, indeed! 🤗

***

Let’s see how she will explain the useless layabout to him, though. If he causes trouble between them, I will be pissed 😠

***

The way this asshole showed up to make things awkward with her husband and to stir shit up in her marriage 😠😠 Plus, he’s drunk off his ass and making a fool of himself. 

***

I can’t help but think that this writer had an axe to grind with an ex-boyfriend and wrote the Third Prince based on him as revenge 😂

The second-hand embarrassment is killing me!

***

He smiles and my heart is full 🤗

***

It just occurred to me that this wine the muppet was drinking must be something he brought HIMSELF. He didn’t bring arms, he didn’t bring people. He brought A BOTTLE OF WINE. 

***

Babies 🤗

***

God, look at them 😭😭

***

Somebody make them stop 😭😭

I caaaaaaan’t 😭😭😭😭

***

Well, this is more logical than the whole ‘killing affection’ pill. 

I thought it would be poison, but you never know with c-dramas what drugs with weird effects they will pull out of their sleeve. 

***

Smh.

***

The little maid is going to end up drinking this, isn’t she.

[fickleminder]

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

.

.

.

“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

.

.

.

You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

.

.

.

Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

.

.

.

“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

.

.

.

Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

.

.

.

When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

.

.

.

Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

.

.

.

“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

.

.

.

“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

.

.

.

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

.

.

.

They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Their Girl

Loosely based off of several cases that have, unfortunately, taken place in schools.

Mabel defends herself when a boy touches her, only to be the one to get in trouble. Not on her grunkles watch.

~~~~~~~~~~

“In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, in an effort to alleviate the effects of the - Anyone? Anyone? - the Great Depression, passed a - Anyone? Anyone? - a tariff bill. The Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act, which - Anyone? Raised or lowered? - raised tariffs, in an effort to collect more revenue for the Federal Government.”

Mabel leaned back in her desk chair to stretch. It was cold in the high school, but luckily her seat was right in the sunshine, warming her up like a lizard on a rock. Her baggy yellow sweater fell off her left shoulder and she let it without giving it much of a second thought, then watched some birds on a tree as the Economics teacher droned on.

“Did it work? Anyone? Anyone know the effects? It did not work, and the United States fell deeper into the Great Depression.”

Tenth grade was too young to learn about something so boring. This was for suckers who paid money for it, like college students. Mabel held her breath to keep herself from snorting over her own inner thoughts. Grunkle Stan would be proud of her, she thought, and her thoughts wandered to him and Grunkle Ford, until she was snapped back into reality. Literally.

“Today, we have a similar debate over this, anyone know what this is? Class? Anyone? Anyone? Anyone seen this before? The Laffer Curve.”

A boy behind her (his name slipped her mind at the proper moment) was playing with her exposed bra strap. It felt like he had grabbed it, barely pulled it back, and let go. At first, she thought maybe it was an accident. Unlike, but possible. But then it happened again, this time the boy pulled the bra strap far enough that when he let go it slapped against her skin a little. It didn’t hurt, and the teacher’s boring voice drowned out the noise, but still.

“Anyone know what this says? It says that at this point on the revenue curve you will get exactly the same amount of revenue as at this point.”

Mabel turned around sharply at once and gave him a deadly glare. “Stop it.” She whispered firmly.

The boy grinned menacingly, and sneered just as quietly, “Make me.”

Mabel whipped her head back, making sure her long ponytail hit him in the face, but though her actions stopped him for a moment, soon he was back to pulling on her bra strap, each time pulling back farther and farther.

“This is very controversial. Anyone know what President George H. W. Bush called this in 1980? Anyone? Something-D-O-O Economics. Voodoo Economics.”

A loud snap sound echoed, a yell of pain and aggravation, and then Mabel Pines stood so sharply her chair fell backwards, turned around, and punched the jerk in the face, left-hook boxing style.

“Ms. Pines!” The teacher scolded loudly.

The whole class was on the edge of their seats. All the kids had seen what happened; the ones sitting closest to the pair had been well aware of what was going on since the beginning. While they were hopeful the jerk would get what’s coming to him, they all knew that wasn’t likely. Not under the most sexist teacher’s nose.

“To Mr. William’s office. Now.” He growled.

“But he was touching my bra!” Mabel defended. “He was invading my personal bubble even though I told him to back off!”

“It’s a very small classroom, Ms. Pines. And maybe he wouldn’t have touched it if you didn’t have it out for the whole world to see.” The man said coldly and pointed to the door. “Now please leave my classroom.”

Mabel knew there was no point in defending herself. She did a quick glance around the room to see if anyone would defend her, but no one looked ready to jump into the line of fire. She understood why. This guy had a bad reputation. Mabel loudly stuffed her notebook filled with doodles into her backpack, took it and her small purse, and stomped out of the classroom.

She did manage to catch the blood coming out of the boy’s nose and grinned.

At Mr. William’s office, the sweet secretary with old-lady glasses offered her a mint and was very nice to her. But soon Mr. William entered the room and had Mabel enter his office. Apparently the teacher had called ahead so Mabel didn’t have to tell the principal what happened, leaving the girl to feel like she was walking into the Lion’s Den.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper left his Robotics class to meet up with Mabel, who normally would be leaving Economics, so they could walk to their last class, Language Arts 10, together. Economics emptied pretty quickly thanks to the boredom, so Dipper was a bit confused when he didn’t see his twin sister out in the hall, and wondered if she was in the bathroom.

He saw a fellow student who shared Mabel’s Economics class, Rose, leave the ladies’ room, and so he asked, “Hey Rose, is Mabel in there?”

She shook her head. “Nah, didn’t you hear? She got sent to the office for punching Jeremy.”

Dipper grinned with pride, but it quickly went away; Mabel would only do that if Jeremy was doing something. “What’d he do?”

“Smacked her with her own bra strap.” Rose pulled down the neck of her t-shirt and demonstrated, “Like this.” And she pulled her bra strap and let go, making it snap.

“Are you kidding me?!” Dipper yelled and his eyes landed on the teacher to his right, standing with his arms crossed and looking out for rule-breakers.

The young man growled in his throat like an angry dog, ready to tell the jerk off, but he felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled out his phone while Rose walked away. Dipper calmed down a little, sighed, and walked to the lockers to lean against them as he responded to his newest text. He had no intention of going to Language Arts. He’d be on his way to the office soon enough in case his sister needed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford re-read the maps and plans for Spring Break with an exciting grin all over his face. Soon the kids would be out of school and take a bus to the pier where he and Stan had docked the Stan O’ War II, then they would sail alongside the California shore, fishing, sailing, and occasionally swimming, for a whole week. They had been planning this since the holidays, when they had all facetimed for five hours while the old sailors were on the shores of the Netherlands. The kids had practically begged to go on the boat with them, and so they agreed to sail alongside Russia and visit California, planning to then re-visit Alaska quickly before sailing down to Oregon for the summer.

Stan climbed up from the cabin below as he pulled on his white t-shirt. “How much longer until the kids are free from prison?”

Ford rolled his eyes and checked his watch. “Ninety minutes. And it’s a twenty minute drive, so it’ll be about another two hours, Stanley.”

The youngest of the pair by fifteen minutes groaned and collapsed on the couch. “I could always hotwire a car and we could see them now. We can pretend one of us died and so we need the kids now.”

“Stanley, no.”

“Stanley YES!”

Ford chuckled and rolled up the map. “Text them if you miss them so much.”

“Maybe I will.” Stan snorted and pulled out his phone to text in the group chat. “Surviving okay, kids?” Just a casual greeting, and he and Ford were pleasantly surprised to get a little buzz back not a minute longer.

“Not really.”

Stan raised an eyebrow while Ford had his back to him and was organizing his papers. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Little dots appeared and reappeared. Stan knew what that meant. Dipper was being careful how he answered. Stan decided to check, and sure enough Mabel hadn’t even seen the texts yet. When he got a small paragraph back, Stan nearly crushed his phone in his fist. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford jumped a foot in the air and held his chest. “Christ, Stan, what…”

“Check your phone, Genius! We’re going to Piedmont. NOW!” And Stan slapped on his beanie and stormed out of the cabin of the ship with a slam of the door.

Ford picked up his phone, which had been lying face-down on the table, and once he was caught up on messages, he matched his twin’s anger and made sure his ray gun was in his blue hoodie as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, letting Mr. Williams go on his tangent. According to the school nurse, she had broken Jeremy’s nose. Good. That’s what he gets for touching her. But apparently Mr. Williams disagreed, saying things like how her actions were unlawful and that she had no right to punch another student.

“Under no circumstances should you ever punch a fellow student, Ms. Mabel.” Mr. Williams said firmly.

“But he was touching me!” Mabel quickly injected, in some effort to defend herself. “He was pulling on my bra strap and smacking me with it! And I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Mr. Williams snorted as he reached into his desk. “Well maybe next time you won’t wear such revealing clothes? How else are people supposed to pay attention to the lesson?”

Mabel felt her heart drop. She looked back down at her sweater, her purposely baggy yellow sweater that she had knitted herself a few months ago. This sweater - in fact, none of her sweaters - had ever been a problem before. Mabel plucked at her top and said in a quiet, timid voice, “But I made this.”

Mr. Williams glanced up from what he was writing for a second, before mumbling bitterly with his cold eyes on his paper, “Let the professionals make your clothes, okay? If you don’t want to find yourself in trouble then try wearing suitable clothing.”

Mabel felt her entire face turn red. She was so angry and so hurt and she saw no possible way out of this, so she decided to bite her lip and hide the lower-half of her face in her sweater, shrinking in her seat and lifting her yellow sweater up a bit.

“Now, I am giving you three weeks of detention.” Mr. Williams said. “Two for violence and invading a student’s personal bubble, and one for breaking dress…”

The door opened sharply. Mabel turned and her jaw was wide open to find her great-uncles at the foot of the office. At first she was jubilant to see them again, but then terrified to see them so angry. She had never seen them so mad. She knew they could be scary when they wanted to, but they had always seemed like soft old teddy bears to Mabel, what with their fluffy gray hair and warm hugs and squishy tummy-tums to snuggle against. Mabel was a little unhinged to find their faces darkened with anger. She could see a vein popping out of Stan’s forehead. Ford appeared to try to be collected, but his aura was as black as an imploding star, matching his brother’s quite well.

Mabel stood on shaking knees. Her uncles softened, ignoring the cold look Mr. Williams was giving them, and Stan was at her in an instant, with Ford right behind him, rubbing her shoulders and looking over her. “Mabel, sweetie, are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to Moses if that…”

“I’m okay, Grunkle Stan, I promise.” Mabel soothed, trying to smile, but she was still really nervous. “I… Wow, it’s great to see you guys, I missed you, but why are you here?”

“Dipper contacted us.” Ford said softly. “Said you were in trouble. What exactly happened?”

“She pu-...”

“I didn’t ask you.” Ford growled at Mr. Williams. Mabel actually shivered. She was so used to hearing a smooth, warm, comforting voice come from him, that hearing it growl like an animal like that startled her. “I am talking to my niece.” His eyes moved back on Mabel and he was instantly much warmer and not as scary. “What happened, pumpkin?”

“I was in Economics when this boy, Jeremy, was plucking at my bra strap.”

“Please show us exactly what he did.”

“Does it matter?!” Stan snapped. “He touched her!”

“Stanley, please,” Ford gave him a firm look, then returned his attention back to their girl. “Humor me.”

Mabel nodded in agreement. She had pulled her sweater down so it had covered both shoulders and sagged a bit on her chest. Now she moved it so her left shoulder was completely exposed, and she pinched at her strap. “It started like this,” She barely lifted it up, having little effect or sound. “But then after I told him to stop, he did this.” And Mabel pulled back far enough that when she let go it made a harsh slapping sound against her skin.

“Wait a minute,” Stan had caught a glimpse of it the moment she lowered her sweater. He gently turned her to look at the back of her shoulder, and he saw red. Literally. Her skin was reddening from the aggression. Not enough to swell or require ice, but enough to indicate just how invading and violent the action had been.

Stan was growling in his throat. He squeezed Mabel’s forearms reassuringly and said, “We’ll handle this, pumpkin.”

“Gentlemen,” Mr. Williams said firmly, still acting professional and snobbish. “Your niece here has violated several school rules and even went as far as to break a student’s nose.”

“You did?” Stan asked and patted her back. “That’s my girl!”

Mr. William’s nostrils flared. “Gentlemen, that is not what we should be teaching young…”

“While breaking cartilage is unfortunate, sir,” Ford said coldly, stepping forward, “It’s abundantly clear that she was only defending herself. Not only did the boy have no right to touch her, in any sense, in any manner, she was even gracious enough to give a verbal warning before she acted as she had to to get the boy to stop.”

Mr. Williams crossed his arms over his chest and snarled, “Well maybe if she hadn’t dressed in such a distracting way Mr…”

“Oh HELL NO!” Stan marched forward and slammed his fists down on the desk so hard he actually left cracks in the wood from the impact. “YOU’RE NOT PLAYING THAT GAME, ASSHOLE! NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!”

Ford made no attempt to silence his twin. In fact, he was smiling cunningly, like a policeman letting his dog go after the target. He gently walked Mabel to the door and ushered her outside. “Why don’t you wait outside, my dear? Dipper is waiting for you with a snack and some water to calm your nerves, you look a little shaken.” He said quietly.

Mabel dipped her head and smiled, unable to find the words, but Ford understood and closed the door after her.

Dipper was, in fact, there with a package of peanuts and bottled water in his hands for her. They sat in the cool office, listening to the conversation. While exact words were muffled by the walls and door, it sounded like Stan and Ford both were yelling and cursing at the principal. While Dipper and Mabel probably should have been more nervous, they weren’t; they were calm and they both knew that everything would be okay.

About half an hour later, just when the old men’s throats were getting a little sore, they left, leaving Mr. Williams to try to kill a small fire on his desk. Stan swiftly pocketed his lighter and smiled warmly at his kids. “Let’s ditch this hellhole.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel was sipping some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows while Dipper was in the shower and her uncles elsewhere on the boat. She rubbed her shoulder with her free hand, elbows on the table, as she thought about the day. While she was grateful to not be in trouble and that the whole situation was over, it didn’t feel over. At least, the feelings it gave her hadn’t gone away.

The door opened and she smiled to see her favorite uncles coming inside. “Hey there, pumpkin.” Stan greeted warmly, but grew a little concerned. “You okay?”

Mabel blinked and tried to make a more convincing smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“That principal rattled you pretty good.” Stan pulled out a chair and sat next to her, rubbing her back. “C’mon, what’s on your mind?”

Mabel looked down at her hot drink, sighed, unsure of how to properly express her emotions, but managed to settle with, “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Ford said firmly and stood on her other side. She looked up at him and the old scientist said, “What happened to you was completely unfair and should never be tolerated.”

Mabel nodded in agreement. “It’s just that… not only should Jeremy not have touched me, but you’d think people would have my back for defending myself, but… they made it seem like it was my fault…”

“Mabel Pines,” Stan moved his hand to her shoulder and squeezed gently. “That was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You dress how you want and punch any guy that touches you if you don’t wanna be touched, and don’t let anyone tell you you should act differently.”

Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Okay.”

Stan chuckled and ruffled her hair. “That’s my girl.”

“Now hold one minute, Stanley.” Ford teased and wrapped Mabel up in a one-armed hug, making her giggle and hug him around his waist. “You were always terrible at sharing. She’s my girl, too.”

Stan smeared playfully and tickled Mabel’s ribs to loosen her grasp on Ford, pulling her into a big bear hug as she laughed. “Nu, uh. My girl.”

Mabel rolled her eyes as the twins only kept up the charade for another minute, filled to the brim with appreciation and power.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Warnings: unprotected sex (m/f), adultery, divorce, a little fluff, a little angst

Plain Gold Ring Part III

For All We Know

“For all we know

We may never meet again

Before we go

Make this moment live again

We won't say goodbye

Until the last minute

I'll hold out my hand

And my heart will be in it” -Nina Simone

———————————————————

One month. One month before you moved to Chicago. One month until you start your new life. One month for Andy Barber to convince you that you belong together.

The night you retuned was a whirlwind of emotions. In the four days you were gone Andy had moved out and filed for divorce. You didn’t know what happened in that house and you didn’t dare ask. All Andy offered was, “She doesn’t know about you.” That gave you little solace. Made you feel no less guilty. And yet, here he was in your apartment.

He knew her routine and promised they wouldn’t cross paths. Though, it wouldn’t be unheard of if he was at your place considering the mountain of work you had to clear. He could explain it away.

You said no physical contact but you couldn’t help stroking the dented skin on his left ring finger. The little void of lighter skin a spectral reminder of his former life. That was the only conscious touching you did that night.

You kept the conversation light. You spoke about the new firm with an excitement in your voice that even shocked you. He agreed your offer was far too good to pass up. He had been to Chicago a couple of times. It was bitterly cold there for far too long. Though, if all of this worked out, he would just have to get used to it.

It was getting late. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.

He had no malicious intent whatsoever. He just wanted to be next to you. Your stupid brain was now deferring all decision making to your heart. That bitch was more easily swayed than your pussy. Of course you said yes.

He wanted so badly to hold you against his body and drown in your warmth but he promised. He stayed as far away from you on the bed as possible. In the night, out of habit, your body had made its way to the middle of your California king. And, purely out of habit, Andy draped an arm over your side.

——————————————————————

You let Andy sleep in the next morning. You went to the gym, showered and made breakfast. When he found you in the kitchen he was freshly showered and wearing some well loved pajama pants. The no touching rule did not apply to morning in the kitchen.

He padded in on bare feet unintentionally sneaking up on you. When he kissed the back of your neck you jumped.

“Did I scare you?” he chuckled.

“I’m not used to having someone here.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled your cup. “I’ll make more noise next time.”

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Very well. Thank you.” Neither of you mentioned that you wound up tangled around each other.

You got out your laptop and set yourself up on the dining table. You tapped away while Andy read the paper. He eyed you suspiciously over a folded corner. “What are you doing over there?

“Working. Between you and Stan I have about 500 emails in my inbox.”

“It’s Saturday.” he said in disbelief. “Who works on a Saturday?”

“A single girl who lives alone and doesn’t participate in home improvement couples projects. Be honest. How many Saturdays have you and Lori spent in Home Depot?”

He really though about it and laughed to himself, “Too many.”

“Fucking suburban breeders.”

“Suburban breeders. Wow.” He continued to read the paper feigning outrage. “We don’t have to go to Home Depot but I would like to do something nice with you today. Although, I did see a few lightbulbs that needed to be changed.”

“That’s what the super is for. I don’t even own a ladder and I’m not about to buy one. Why don’t you find us a movie? It’ll be like a date.”

Andy’s heart fluttered. He hadn’t been on a date in sixteen years. He wanted to get it just right. While you toiled away he planned your evening.

First, he would make you dinner. Keep it simple and light to make way for popcorn and candy. An art house cinema was playing “Anatomy of a Murder” on actual film. It’s arguably one of the best written courtroom dramas ever. After the movie there was a little coffee shop within walking distance. Then, he hoped, it would be back to his new place. He thought if you were at his place and not in your building that it would take your mind off of Lori and Jacob.

It actually warmed his heart that you cared so much for their feelings. He couldn’t help but think you would make a great stepmom for Jacob. He was getting ahead of himself. But it didn’t hurt to daydream.

Andy tried his hardest to be lazy for the day but he was crap at it. He had to occupy himself. He offered you a hand which you readily accepted. It was such a shame you were leaving the firm. The two of you worked so well together. Given your circumstances he would have encouraged you to tender your resignation immediately after being passed over.

While Andy was getting dinner together you popped off to get changed. So far he had only seen you in workout gear and work attire. It would be nice to be a little bit more casual.

When you appeared in the kitchen he let out a sharp whistle in appreciation. “You look beautiful. Since we are on a date is the touching ban still in effect?”

You kissed him tenderly on the lips, “I think we can make an exception.”

“Well in that case…” He placed his hands on either side of your face and gave you a deep panty ruining kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days now.”

You gripped the edge of the counter to catch your breath. “Something smells good.”

His whole face lit up when he told you about the salmon he made. He dipped the tip of his finger in the glaze and held it to your lips. You slowly sucked at the very tip of his finger. “Yum” you said looking up at him through your lashes.

“If you keep that up, baby, we won’t leave this apartment.”

You gave him your most innocent smile, “Sorry, boss. I’ll be a good girl.”

“Fuck. Save that for later. Speaking of later, I thought we could go to my condo tonight. It’s closer to the theater and I’d like to show it to you.”

“Big ol’ thumbs up for me. I’m famished.”

Your date went incredibly well. How could it not? You two were already idiots for each other. You talked for hours and about everything that night. No topic was off limits. You really had a lot in common. You both got into law for similar reasons. Though, you had more altruistic intentions like joining the ACLU as part of their legal team. Now you work for a firm who represents massive corporations. You weren’t proud of the turn you took. That was another reason the Chicago firm was such a great fit for you. They did a little bit of everything but, you would be going after these big corporations instead. He loved your unbridled enthusiasm for your work.

After all the wine was gone and the conversation died the two of you were cuddled on the couch. He rubbed his hands up your arms and massaged your shoulders, “Are you falling asleep on me?” he asked against your ear.

“No. Just relaxed.” He deepened his touch bringing his hands to your décolleté skimming the top swell of your breasts. His hand dipped into the v of your tshirt to make contact with your skin.

“Is this ok?” Lord he’s perfect.

“I declare the no touching ban officially lifted.”

He waisted no time taking full advantage. He massaged your breast under your shirt teasing you over your bra. His other hand held your face to his while he kissed you. You let out a soft moan to which he responded in kind. You turned around to straddle him. He ground his cock into your denim covered cunt to relieve the ache. You went slow savoring the weight of his body. The scruff of his beard. The rough callused fingers that seemed to be everywhere. With Andy, kissing was your favorite thing. The act made your insides liquid and warm.

He broke away to lift your shirt over your head. He sucked your nipple through the thin material of your bra. Your breath hitched in your throat. You ran your fingers through his hair grasping it hard. He undid the fly of your jeans and slipped his hand in. Your juices ran over his fingers while he fucked into you. You met your peak and cried out when you tumbled over the edge.

When he released you, you stood up and undressed. You pulled his shirt over his head. He kissed your belly while you shimmied out of your panties. He kicked off his pants and lowered you onto his dick. The stretch nearly toppled you over but you held on. You pressed your clit into his pelvic bone and he fucked into you hard. He could feel you were close. Your pussy fluttered around him bringing him close to his end. “You ready, baby?” You answered with a whimper. “Cum with me.” With a few final thrusts you both exploded.

There was an imperceptible shift in you that night. You were ready to meet Andy where he was. For the next few weeks, you were going to be his. Entirely and completely his in every conceivable way.

——————————————————————

You didn’t say no when he asked you to spend the night. You spent a lot of nights there. So many that he gently suggested moving in with him until it was time to ship out. His reasons were entirely practical. You were over staying your lease which meant you were paying more a month in rent. Your big stuff and winter clothes were packed and in storage. You were basically down to your bed and a few other essentials. At least you could put everything in storage to make it easier for the moving company. So you guessed now you were living together.

You wished it bothered you more but honestly he was a delightful roommate. He was clean. He cooked. You both had an annoying habit of bringing work home with you. At least you were doing it together. And, it goes without saying, you fucked like horny teenagers. You were adventurous and that thrilled him to his very core.

He had a large terrace looking over the city. That was officially your favorite spot. You were sure your neighbors heard you.

——————————————————————

You only had a week left. You successfully handed off your entire case load. Andy took a few days off to help you get settled in Chicago. You tendered your resignation the week prior.

Stan tried and failed to hold onto you. You let him know your mind was set. The only thing left on your work calendar was the charity event the firm held annually. You were on the board this year. Problem was, no one could know about you and Andy. You had to go alone. Andy was bringing Lori.

Your heart gave up her post as she was no longer emotionally equipped to handle decision making. Your brain was petty as fuck. You gave Andy the silent treatment for a whole day. He had no idea you weren’t speaking until he asked you a third time what you wanted for dinner.

“Y/n, I’m speaking to you. Do you want Thai tonight?” Nothing. You sulked around the kitchen never making eye contact. “I’m sorry are you mad at me?” He grabbed your wrist and forced you to face him. “Being a brat isn’t going to fix this. Look at me and use your words like a big girl.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.” Your voice was low and emotionless. You planted your feet and stared him down.

“Then don’t act like a child. Talk to me.” He smoothed the hair out of your face and rested his hands on your shoulders. “Please. We only have a few more days together. I don’t want to spend them fighting.”

You took a deep breath and blew it out. You didn’t trust yourself not to cry so you just let loose. “If I quit already, why can’t we go together? Further more, if you filed for divorce, why are you taking Lori? Also, you didn’t talk to me. You told me. End of story.”

“I still work there. I don’t want anyone to think you quit because of me. I didn’t tell anyone that Lori and I have split. She agreed to go while you were still in Chicago. I apologize for not talking to you about all of this. I honestly didn’t know how you would react. I wanted our last week together to be happy. I won’t see you for a while. It’s just one night. You can have me forever if you want.”

You softened a little, “But we’ll be all dressed up and dancing and stuff. I know this seems ridiculous but I don’t want to watch you dance with someone else even if, technically, she is your wife.” You pouted a little. He kissed your bottom lip and pulled you into his arms.

“You wanna dance with me, baby? Let’s dance. Alexa…play my Y/N playlist.” The speaker sprang to life filling the air with a sweeping piano and Nina Simone’s velvety voice. You swayed to the music while Andy sang softly in your ear “…..So baby love me, love me tonight……”

You stared up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, “I’m sorry I was a bitch. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d be offended if you weren’t a little jealous. I’m on edge too. Every time I think about being here alone I can’t breathe.”

“So come with me.” It’s not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind. He didn’t want to be that far away from Jacob. He just started this job. You both knew it was a ridiculous request.

“Give me some time.” You spent the rest of the night swaying in each other’s arms. Fucking hell. You fell in love.

[221bshrlocked]

sooo I remember reading a thing (I don't remember who wrote it) about reader being a tailor and doing Sebastian Stan's measurements and him getting turned on by it.

and theeeeen I came across THIS picture:

and my mind is GOING PLACES

AHA dude that was me and if anyone is interested, you can read it here.

But...you were saying-

“There were some last-minute changes. Get your shit together and come with me.” You looked up from your station and stared at Kevin for a few seconds as you continued to write in your notebook.

“Snap out of it and let’s go!!!” He sighed and motioned for you to hurry up, shaking his head when he saw you frantically getting out of your seat and grabbing your tool bag.

You almost tripped a couple of times as you followed him through the lot and into one of the production buildings.

“You mind explaining to me what’s happening?”

“Joe took over from Kristin, not sure why, and now he has too many clients for this movie so you’ll be taking three of Jo’s assignments and he was planning on getting most of the measurements today and since he can’t do that, you’re coming with me.” He swiped his card and pushed the door open for you, telling you to continue walking until the end of the hallway.

“Wow, alright then. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I only just found out like an hour ago. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve heard that most of the actors in this movie are nice so you won’t have to deal with any assholes. Here,” he took a few steps ahead of you and pushed the door open again before motioning for the next room.

“Just go through there and he’s waiting for you. You have my phone number, let me know if you need anything okay?” Kevin said as he patted you on the back before leaving again. You hoped for his sake that he was telling the truth about the actors. It was too early in the morning to deal with anyone’s shit.

Taking a deep breath, you fixed your bag and clicked on the mechanical pencil a few times before walking to the door. Knocking three times, you waited until you heard a soft response before entering.

And as soon as you walked in, you regretted not asking Kevin which actors you were taking over from Jo.

“H-hi, I uhh, I’m supposed to be taking your measurements...for the suits.” You swallowed nervously and looked at the two actors before zeroing in on the one fixing his glasses and drinking coffee.

“Hi, I’m Taron. Didn’t know Joe is a girl’s name!” Taron asked as he stepped forward and stuck his hand out for you to shake.

“Oh sorry, my name is Y/N. There were some issues with one of the tailors so I’m taking over some assignments from Joe...he has too much on his plate.” You smiled awkwardly before returning your attention to the other man.

“Sorry but I was told there was a third actor I will be working with?” You put your bag down and began to take out the pins, threads, and measuring tapes.

“Yeah Channing is running a little late so I guess you’ll start with us until he gets here. And it’s nice to meet you, I’m Pedro.” He stepped towards you and shook your hand as well before moving to give you some space as you took out your tools. You hoped he didn’t notice how nervous you were at meeting him. Fuck, the man was more handsome up close.

“So which one wants to go first?” You turned around and looked at the two men, raising an eyebrow when neither said nothing. You swore you saw Taron smirking at Pedro but you paid it no mind and flipped through the pages of your little notebook.

“Come on guys, I promise I don’t bite.” You joked and dug your fingers into the notebook when Pedro raised his hand.

“Y/N, how do you like your coffee?” Taron asked as he grabbed his phone and his keys before heading to the door.

“Oh god no please, you don’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I need some anyway.” He shook his head and waited.

“An iced hazelnut latte will do. Thank you so much!” You thanked him again and turned around to Pedro when you heard the door shut behind him.

“If you don’t mind, I usually prefer taking some preliminary measurements before we try on the suits?” You stretched out the measuring tape as you approached him, rolling up your sleeves as you waited for him to finish his coffee.

“Go for it, you’re the expert here. Just let me know how you want me.” You swore there was a flirty tone to his last words but you brushed the thought aside. Come on. Focus.

“T-thank you, and over here is fine.” You pointed towards the large mirror and asked him to take his jacket off.

“And feel free to let me know when you need to move around or anything, I know how hard these things get sometimes.” You smiled at him as you stuck the pencil behind your ears and stretched the tap out from his neck to his shoulders. He whispered something in return but you couldn’t catch it and thought better than to ask him what he said.

A few minutes passed by in silence with you scribbling down more measurements and trying to not pay attention to the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Just a few more and we’ll move on to the suits.” You made the mistake of looking into his eyes and blinked nervously when you noticed how dark and piercing they were.

“Take your time.” Pedro smiled at you and purposely looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze again, his smile growing further when he saw the obvious effect he was having on you.

All you did was hum before getting on your knees and putting the notebook and pencil on the floor.

“Fuck,” Pedro swore as soon as you pulled the measuring tape from his ankle to his inner thighs and you snatched your hands away immediately, hoping you didn’t make him uncomfortable by accident.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to...would you like to take a break?” You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say and you continued to stare up at him until he shook his head.

“Just surprised me...go ahead Y/N.” His voice came out hoarse and you couldn’t help but look at the way his jaws clenched as he looked down at you. Moving quickly through the last measurements, you stayed on the floor and wrote down the last numbers, not noticing the way Pedro was eyeing you as you remained at his feet.

"Ok, so we’ll be trying different suits to see which style matches you best and I’m honestly not sure when I’m supposed to let you go so depending on your availability, we can either finish this today or meet another time.” Pedro nodded and you walked to the chair that had the suits Joe chose for him. “Please put on this shirt and pick whichever suit to start with. I’ll be here.” 

“Thanks Y/N.” He took the suit and walked away quickly, and you frowned when the door slammed a little louder than it should have. Maybe he was just having a bad day.

Less than ten minutes later, you heard the door unlock and saw Pedro walking towards you from the corner of your eyes. “One sec, I’m looking for some ties here.” You forgot to hand him one when he went to change and when you heard shuffling behind you, you grabbed the black one and decided to match the colors later.

When almost gasped when you turned around and looked at Pedro.

“Is something wrong?” He asked when he saw the expression on your face, unsure of how he looked.

“Oh god no it’s just...damn, you really know how to wear a suit. Your shoulder to waist ratio is perfect.” The response was out before you could stop yourself and you laughed nervously before approaching him and ignoring the way he was smiling at your word vomit. When you looked down to avoid stepping on his shoes, your eyes widened in surprise at seeing the obvious tent in his suit pants.

Fuck, he was big.

“That might be the first time someone’s ever complimented my, what is it, shoulder to waist ratio?” Pedro unbuttoned the jacket and put up his collars when he saw the tie in your hands. He said nothing of your obvious reaction to noticing the not-so-little issue he was having, hoping that he wasn’t misreading the interaction.

“S-sorry, I can’t help it sometimes. There are some people that were built to wear suits and you’re one of them.” You said nothing as he leaned down so you could put the tie around his neck. He put his hands in his pockets, silently telling you that he wouldn’t be fixing his own tie. You didn’t look at him once, instead focusing on the fabric beneath your fingers and how perfectly chiseled his jaw was.

Your breath hitched when you felt him softly place his hands on your hips. You said nothing as you finished tying the fabric and fixing his collar, hands moving across his shoulders to flatten the creases.

“Tell me sweetheart, how am I supposed to go about my day now that I’m dealing with this issue?” You smiled when he pulled you closer to him and traced your jaw with his nose.

“I...uhh, s-sorry, I didn’t mean to- it’s a perfectly n-natural response.” You finally allowed yourself to shut your eyes and lean your head back as he skimmed his lips over your neck.

“Well, I can tell you that I’ve never had this problem before.” He kissed the skin below your ears and chuckled when he felt your grasp tighten around the suit.

“Oh...s-sorry-”

“Mierda...every time you say ‘sorry,’ makes me want to bite your lip baby, kiss the breath out of you. So fucking sweet...” You shivered at the whispers he was speaking across your skin, barely managing to breathe when you felt how hard he was against your stomach.

“P-pedro...” Just as he was about to lean over and kiss you, the door unlocked and in came Taron with your coffee. You jumped as far away from Pedro as possible and pretended to jot some stuff down on your notebook, completely missing the way Pedro was silently swearing and pointing at Taron to leave.

“Ah mate I just realized I forgot to get Channing’s coffee. Be back in a bit.” You ignored him and stared at the numbers on the page. 

Your embarrassment was replaced quickly with shock when Pedro came up from behind you and pulled you to his chest. He turned your chin around until you were looking at his lust-blown eyes.

“Now, where were we?”

[yoichichi]

Pretty People Supremacy Playlist 🖤

for my angel @1010andneji , I hope you love it 🖤

disclaimers: fem!reader, because this a request for someone with she/her pronouns, I believe the reader is referred to as she/her a few times, Kenma is aged up and this is based in him attending University just to be clear‼️

warning: it gets a little saucy in the make out department ?

gif not mine, credit to owner

a/n: ahhhhh!!! I’m sorry this took so long and I really hope you like it and you felt like it was worth the wait! Please let me know if you need me to change anything ‼️ i luv you bae 😔✊🏼 also thank you to my wife @ikigaitooru for helping me choose your matchup here! I was stuck between one other person but we ultimately decided on Kenma, we both believe he exhibits prime quiet himbo energy :) also I kind of went off and wrote a lot on this one 😶 sorry I think? Regardless, I hope you enjoy!!!

Relationship Headcannons

Ok so ultimately, I paired you together NOT just cause you thinks he’s pretty but I think you guys would be so good together!! Like you would be so good for him

You guys would balance each other out socially and just be the best pair to hang out with pleaseee

He knows he can be stupid and chaotic with you and you know you can let yourself wind down with him!!

Kenma CAN be blunt sometimes so I’m sure he’d have to catch onto your sensitivity at first, but he’d be so sincere if he ever accidentally said or did anything that made you feel some type of way

And once he is aware of your sensitivity he’s constantly reassuring you in little ways, not only that he understands and is trying to comfort you but just to reassure you he loves you, for example :

HAND SQUEEZES

I know some people have mentioned that he wouldn’t be into PDA but I disagree! It’s just not in the conventional let me be all over you types of PDA

I feel like it’s just not a big deal to him cause he’s like 🤨 what do I have to be embarrassed for?? This my mf baby and I’m gonna hold her hand if I want to ??

Like, I see him as a big hand holder frfr

He would just see it as such an easy way to be physically close to you and even if that’s just holding pinky’s he’s down!

It would also help him if he’s feeling anxious!

Like he’d fiddle with your hands and fingers if he’s feeling particularly antsy or nervous

OH

You guys are out and he wants to go in a different direction? He’s definitely bringing your hand to his lips to give a quick peck and pull you along

“C’mon, let’s look over here”

AND HES SO NONCHALANT ABOUT IT TOO LIKE HE JUST DOESNT QUITE REALIZE THE EFFECT HE HAS ON YOU WHEN HE DOES THAT (he totally does but he likes to be slick and act like he doesn’t 🙄)

He would also DEFINITELY let you play with his hands if you’re nervous or bored or whatever reason honestly, he’d find it soothing and knows it occupies you or fills a need (and you get to look at pretty Kenma hands c’mon now)

ANYWAYS there are other little ways he’d reassure you too besides hand squeezes and holding

Definitely the type to leave you little notes in places for you to find them and they’d always say such simple things like “hi- kenma <3” LMAOOOO PLS HES TRYING HIS BEST

I think the final biggest way he’d love to reassure you would be words of affirmation (this is definitely a private thing)

I think he’d still deliver them in a blunt manner but that’s how you know he’s sincere!

You two would just be chilling at his place and you’d do something simple like, ask how much water he’s drank today or play with his hair and tell him he shouldn’t overwork himself and he’d just look at you so seriously and be like, “I really appreciate you, you know that?”

And it’d be sort of deadpan but like !!!

And he’d just kiss your hand after - always the palm - and then he’d just press his cheek into your hand before kissing it one more time and moving on like that literally just didn’t happen KENMA KING OF HAND KISSES

Okok moving on before I get stuck on his hands again anskdkdksiaj

So we don’t talk about himbo Kenma enough!!!! Like ok

He’s NOT big and ripped like ya know Bokuto and he seems super smart but I’m telling you this man is a quiet clueless himbo ‼️

You can’t tell me you’d be talking on and on about biology or something and he’d just have this little lost look in his eye while he’s nodding along and smiling softly listening to you talk and you’re like ,,??

“Wait, do you even understand what I’m saying?”

And he’d really just be like no :)

“but your eyes are really pretty and I like watching your lips move while you talk :) (this man is also a king of innocent flirting and you can’t tell me otherwise!!!)

OMG and if you’re even the slightest bit flustered by his comment he WILL notice and he’ll do his best to hide his sly little smile and just grab one of your hands and squeeze it and be like, “keep going, I’m listening”

KENMA HIMBO NATION RISE

Ok ALSO you two would literally just be such a pretty couple? Just like so pleasing to look at????? Like you’re both so pretty it’s unfair! And your style OMG

Like you’re just so soft like the epitome of 🦋✨👼☁️☺️ girl and 🎮🎱🖤👾🌙 boy ykwim???

and his long hair PLS Kenma man bun supremacy 🙌🏼

I can’t stress enough how pretty you two would be it would just make sense seeing you two together ugh

UGH you dying Kenmas hair for him?? And he’d just sit cross legged in a chair while you do it and he keeps leaning and moving to wherever you are around him cause your hands are in his hair and it’s so soothing!! What’s he supposed to do??

“Kenma, stay still you’re gonna bet bleach on my shirt!”

“But didn’t you wear that in case bleach did get on it?”

“Kenma-“

“I’m just saying if that’s the case then I don’t understand why I can’t hug you while you bleach my hair? 🤨”

“😐”

“Ok so-“

“Kenma.”

“😒”

Yeah queue pouty Kenma acting indifferent 🙄✋🏼

Just give him a kiss on his nose and he’ll get over it even though he’ll feign his grumpiness to get treated like a baby a little bit longer

UGH PLS I GOTTA STOP I COULD GO ON FOREVER

Bottom line, Kenma’s your quiet little himbo and you’re his loud soft girlfriend, and it’s one of the most adorable things ever

Ok, so we’re finally to what you came for LMAO, your playlist!

OKOK so similar to the first one I made, there’s no theme besides music taste so I tried to make this like a soundtrack of your guys relationship if that makes sense?

I really hope you enjoy and please let me know if you need any changes or would like to be paired up with someone else 🖤‼️ Without further ado, your songs and explanations!

1. Siren - Kailee Morgue: ok I think this one still kind of fits the vibe you’re looking for but you can’t tell me Kenma didn’t see you as some bewitching vixen who’s caught his attention LMAO like he’s just like 👁👄👁 she’s so pretty and entrancing help me! and he’d try to be like haha I’m cool I’m cool I’m fine 😎🥴😎 but it’s so obvious he likes you too (you’d kind of be able to tell with the way he looks at you and how it took so long for the blush to leave his neck and ears whenever he’d talk to you) but he just really decides he has no choice in the matter, he wants you so bad LMAO

2. Juice - iyla: more off the first one, the way you just appeared into Kenmas life LMAO like he saw you and just 😳🥴😍‼️ and once he started to feel real feelings he’d be so 🏃‍♂️💨 WHERE THE FUCK DID SHE COME FROM??? But he wants you so BAD he can’t do anything about it, and now not only does he just want you 😳 but he wants you and he wants to be yours , pls he has it hard

3. See You Again (feat. Kali Uchis) - Tyler, The Creator: ok this is like THE song to your guys relationship just UGH I know you two would have such pining. Kenma would DEFINITELY be nervous to even talk to you at first cause he’s definitely like 🥴 she’s prettt hhng and he’s so shy and you just have such HEART EYES over him and you don’t even hide it that well LMAO (“it’s them rose colored cheeks yeah it’s them dirt colored eyes 😔😩”- u @ him) and it just makes him so NERVOUS!! But you two would definitely dance around it for a bit like you’d just be so 😍‼️ He’s pretty and shy hehe I like him gimme gimme 😍 and he’d be so flustered by it at first until you guys FINALLY get over yourselves (when kenma stops being a baby LMAO) like you guys jus wanna kiss so bad and literally everyone’s like JUST FUCKING DO IT, SHIT it’s adorable really

4. Doves In The Wind (feat. Kendrick Lamar) - SZA: ok I know this song is kinda saucy an idk if it’s overplayed but listen YOU CANT TELL ME THIS ISNT KENMAS FUCKING ANTHEM!! like he jus absolutely jams to this song definitely a sza stan and loves playing vibey music like hers during his gaming sessions but like the way he would worship the ground you walk on and be like mf im HERS do not get it twisted, in no way does she belong to me buT THE WAY I BELONG TO HER WHEW ‼️

5. Moment - Victoria Monét: ok why do I feel like most of the songs I added on here are vaguely steamy LMAO but ok this song? Yeah whew 💨 this is definitely one of those songs that play while you two would be lazily making out with those little led lights on (you just know kenma has those) and you two would just be laying there and know this is one of those moments you guys are never gonna forget. Your hands are just roaming and caressing each other while your lips are locked and you guys are so breathless and it’s just wow, you guys must have manifested each other cause this moment is so perfect between you two. And even though it’s a little sloppy it’s so intimate and you both feel like you’re living in a dream. messy hair flushed Kenma whos breathing heavy? Yeah I think so

6. Deep Cuts - Healy: Kenma is always trying his hardest to be the best he can when he loves something. We know this we’ve all seen him and Tora when it comes to volleyball and the way he gets with Hinata. And this wouldn’t change when it comes to your guys relationship, he is constantly going to be putting in his best effort to get to know you better, be the best boyfriend he can be to you and make you feel as loved as he can. He’s memorized everything there is to know about you and sometimes he gets lost in that and it makes him insecure about himself from his overthinking (you can’t tell me he’s not a chronic overthinker) and he’d forget to just enjoy himself sometimes. Like Kenma stop stressing, you can relax when you hold her hand. But he’d reach this point with you when he’d probably be being a bit difficult and you’d just make him feel so loved. He had been overworking himself again, which you HATED. You could tell from the bags under his eyes and the way his hair was messily pulled back into a low bun and the way the neckline of his hoodie showed he wasn’t even wearing a shirt underneath. But it was date night!! So what if he was tired and overworked quality time is important to you!!! I mean, that’s what he’s thinking. But you would just pull him into a hug and kiss his forehead and start to undress into comfy clothes and he’d be so confused like ?? Uhm, date night?? And you’d just pull him to your shared bed by his sleeve and under the covers and into your arms while you just kissed the top of his head. You’d take his hair out of his bun and run your fingers through it getting rid of some of the tangles and just be so CARING to him. “Let’s just stay in, you’re tired and I’d rather lay with you while you get some sleep, we can always go out another time.” Yeah he’s in love that’s it ‼️ you make him feel like he’s exactly enough for you as he is and that’s all he wants pls tbis is so long and for what??? Like this could be a Drabble in itself??? Anyways

7. Easy - DaniLeigh: you guys are definitely an exclusive couple but you really show Kenma what it means to just take it slow and relax! After the date night (deep cuts) he knows it’s ok to just relax into your guys love and he doesn’t have to force or rush anything cause it all comes naturally. Secondly , the WAY THIS BOY MAKES YOU FEEL - he just always looks at you with these deep eyes that hold so much love and it makes you feel so exposed every time cause he just loves you so much and it’s so intense l. It makes your face heat up cause he so clearly thinks your perfect. Also, this just gives total late night ride vibes. Kenma would definitely be driving on the freeway and this song comes on and he just places his hand on your thigh while he’s driving and he’s humming along to this song and he can feel you staring at him so he just casts you a quick side glance and goes “hmmm?” And you’re like 👁👄👁 nothing (Kenma is the king of late night car ride music fr)

8. CPR - Summer Walker: ok I don’t even need to explain myself with this one, the song is so self explanatory! You just make each other feel so at home. Point blank ‼️ like Kenma will just think back like 😇 where would I be without this bitch the thought makes him truly sad and he likes to avoid it at all costs

9. Rain - Lucy Park: pls this song is so soft (I hope it fits the vibe ahhh!!) but this is just more of kenma being an absolute softy for you LMAO. He’s not very good at taking care of himself sometimes and you’re always there to be like 😡‼️ NO‼️ and it makes him so soft he can’t help it, it’s not that he does it on purpose cause that’s insane but the fact you know his limits when even he doesn’t sometimes blows his mind and he’s never felt more loved than in those moments (let’s bring up Deep Cuts again 🙄✋🏼 pls this boy just needs someone soft to put him in his place LOL)

10. moonlight - dhruv: ok but when Kenma knows he’s in love with you, he has to tell you. And what better way to tell you than, well, tell you. He’d definitely try to plan it in his head to be perfect like ok what’s her favorite place? Where’d we first meet? Should I tell her there? Should our song be playing in the background? Kenma, your himbo and over thinker tendencies are showing, just tell her already! It’d be early in the morning, and you two are making breakfast together while he’s listening to you ramble on about the recent events of your favorite show and he’s just smiling and nodding, doing his best to recall the other plot points that have happened. And you, distracted with your ranting, go to take a bite of your freshly made breakfast- which is still scalding hot. You IMMEDIATELY start panting and drop your fork, running over to the faucet and shoving your head under it doing your best to soothe your mouth with the cold water. And Kenma feels awful, but this is fucking hilarious. So sure he’s holding your hair back so you can really get that water but he’s dying in the process. Almost keeled over and gripping at his stomach type laughter and you’re swatting at him to no avail and he just can’t help himself, “oh, fuck I love you.” He said it between his gasps of air from laughing and didn’t even realize it. Not until you stood up fully with water still dripping off your chin just looking at him. This idiot immediately started apologizing like omg this isn’t how I wanted to say it ahhhh but you assure him this was perfect, and that you love him too (pls love this man he can’t help but love you too)

11. Easily - Bruno Major: does this count as angst? ok call back to Kenma being an overthinker who overworks himself and probably overlooks his own needs at times, there’s bound to be some tension between you two at times. You’re concerned about his health and he insists he’s fine but you know he’s not, and while I don’t ever see him blowing up on you I could see little arguments about his self-care habits. Sometimes he stays up too late, or he’s stressing himself over something that doesn’t need that much thought! Regardless, he knows you just love him and he does the same thing for you and he just needs to get better at not being so stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself. And he just hopes that you know he loves you and appreciates what you do for him even though it doesn’t seem like it all the time, and that hopefully you won’t give up on him.

12. Streets - Doja Cat: ok I added this one mainly for the vibes but like you can’t tell me Kenma isn’t pined over in university LMAO. Like he’s pretty and polite but also indifferent, mentally ill bitches eat that shit UP; and there’s PLENTY of those in university LMAO. And like you aren’t a toxic possessive person don’t worry but MAN he’s fighting these girls off with a stick at this point LMAO and he just doesn’t get it pls, like he’d definitely be the partner in an assignment who just comes prepared and is kind of quiet to a fault but is so nice and just gets his shit done. Would also offer a pencil if you forgot one and maybe I’m just a whore but that gets me everytime 😌

13. Kiss U Right Now - Duckwrth: ok mainly for the vibes but !!! You and Kenma in the kitchen cooking and this song comes on and he comes up behind you and turns you around and your faces are all close and he keeps singing “I think I wanna kiss u” and smirking but he’s just ghosting his lips over yours instead and moving his head back every time you try to kiss him and giggling before doing it all over again! giggly Kenma supremacy

14. Butterfly - UMI: ok we been talking about how much Kenma would be devoted to you, but like you wouldn’t be the same!!!! Kenma means so much to you and you do your best to show your care and all you wanna do is see him happy as much as he wants the same for you, omg you guys are so in love it’s gross 🤢

15. Pick Up Your Phone - Hojean: what more can I say!!! You guys just love each other and love spending as much time together as you can!! (I like ending these playlists with a really happy mood :) )

——————

Here it is! Thank you for being so patient and I really hope you like this! I always get nervous posting for my baby’s 🖤 love you cutie!

-🐇out

[suchalonelysunflower]

You Broke Me First (C.H)

Pairing: former FWB!Calum X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “You Broke Me First” by Tate McRae. You are trying to forget about the man who broke your heart, so it’s a surprise when his name appears on your phone again.

Warnings: Angst af. Language. Mild Smut. Mentions of Alcohol and cheating. Probably one or two grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 5K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @thebasicbitch-things ✨ I loved writing this piece, maybe because I love the song so much, so thank you for requesting it and I hope I made it justice 💕. Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcome and appreciated it! You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading! 🦋

@thebasicbitch-things : Can you write a Calum imagine based off the song You Broke me first by Tate McRae?? Like I’m just in a weeping mood. Thank you xxx

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else

You're drunk at a party or maybe it's just that your car broke down

Your phone's been off for a couple months, so you're calling me now

The liquid burns your throat, but you don’t really feel it anymore. When the heat starts spreading around the rest of your body is when you know you need another one. And another one. And another one. Anything to keep him from your mind.

It’s ironic how the memory of him still lingers on, even more with every drink you drown. Well, it’s not so ironic as it is shitty. But it’s at times like this, when you’re at a random club in the middle of the night surrounded by strangers trying to create stories of their own while all you want to do is forget, that the only thing your mind can focus on is him.

A year ago:

“Babe?” You heard his voice as he exited the bathroom. Still shirtless and with his boxers on, hanging loosely “Are you okay?”

You sat down on the bed, your naked skin barely covered by the messy sheets “Mhmm” you mumbled, still zooned out in your own thoughts and worries as you saw Calum grab his shirt and jeans from the floor.

It was always the same. He would call or text, you would meet with any excuse, hang out for a while before moving to the bedroom. The same old story of friends who fuck each other, with the same old ending every night: you in your bed watching him get dressed and close the door on his way out.

“Do you really have to leave?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“I have to”

“No, you don’t have to”

“Y/N…”

You hated that condescending tone. Not only that, but you hated yourself, too. You and this whole messy situation you got yourself into. You didn’t know how bad of an idea it was to accept his proposal of friends with benefits when you already had feelings for him. But who could say no to Calum Hood? Especially with the hopes of becoming something more along the way.

At the beginning it was all you could dream of. The night seemed endless when he hold you close to him, breathing the same air as your bodies collided with each other, creating messes as you explored every inch of skin you had to offer, seeing stars explode with every right touch, hearing each other’s names like prayers coming from your parting lips. It was almost like you couldn’t get enough, almost.

“What? God, Calum, would it kill you to stay the night just once? Would it ruin your reputation of a heartthrob batchellor?”

“What has gotten into you?” He asked in confusion at your sudden outburst “You know the rules of this”

“Oh, the rules. Fuck them”

The rules were simple: Never overstaying, no exclusivity, don’t let others find out, never do anything public… but most importantly: Never fall in love. You had agree to that once, but most certainly broken almost every rule. You’ve fallen in love with him.

“Y/N…”

“It hurts, Calum” You said with glossy eyes “It hurts when you leave, and I- I can’t watch you do that anymore”

Calum’s eyes soften a bit. Debating whether or not he should stay. But after a pleading “Please” from your lips he caved in, laying down on the bed next to you, pulling you closer to him.

You smiled, allowing yourself to drift away in dreams and hopes of him laying next to you for the rest of your lives. Little did you know that those dreams were to be crushed next morning when you find an empty bed and a note with a little ‘sorry’ scribbled on it.

That was the first nights of many where he would lay down with you. Sometimes he would stay till morning and share a cup of coffee with you at breakfast. Other times he would disappear as a ghost in the middle of the night, only leaving the marks on your body as proof of his presence. It hurted, but at least you didn’t watch him walk away. You never watched as he did.

Took a while, was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I could've ever, you know that hurt

Swear for a while I would stare at my phone just to see your name

But now that it's there, I don't really know what to say

You feel your friend’s grasp on your arm as they drag you down to the dance floor. Pulling you away from your own pity party as you watch how they sway to the beat of a song you’ve never heard of, soon joining them with the alcohol in your veins rushing towards your brain and taking control of your every move. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you tell yourself as you let the music take you away, already feeling the effects of the one too many shots you did earlier. But some things are easier said than done.

It’s funny, how after so many months of not seeing each other you can still feel him in your skin. You memorized the way his hands wrapped around your waist and the smell of his cologne. You could still feel his breath on your neck, the burning kisses he used to leave and the whispers that got lost inside a dream. Even now that you are dancing along to an ear shattering beat, the rhythm of your heart still beats and longs for him.

You can feel yourself in the dire need of another drink, desperate to push those memories away and cleanse yourself from his touch once and for all. You don’t care how many nights it would take, how many people or how many hangovers. You are determined to get that boy out of your system, where he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Y/N!” Your friend yells over the music, gesturing towards your hand “Your phone is glowing!”

You bring your phone to your face, trying to focus on the image that’s plastered across the screen. A name pops up, a name you haven’t seen in so long.

Muttering an “Oh fuck” you press ‘decline’ over and over again, until Calum stopped calling.

Seven months ago:

It’s been two weeks since you last heard from him. It’s been two weeks since he left you alone in a fuzz. It’s been two weeks since he slammed the door and he still hasn’t called.

Maybe he was right and you fucked everything up. But you were sure of your words, you know there’s truth to them, so you stan by them. He will soon realize his mistake, he has to. He wouldn’t leave you like that, would he? He must know he hurt you, he must. The words he said… they are like tattoos on your mind, they don’t seem to fade with time. But you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were as guilty as he was.

For the past two weeks you’ve been glued to your screen, hoping for his name to appear. Taping your screen randomly to see if you’ve gotten a text or a call or a dm or even a fucking email. But nothing ever came.

It wasn’t until you were scrolling down Twitter that you saw it.

It was a paparazzi photo, he was wearing a classic tee and the sweatpants you once told him were your favorite on him. His hair was longer, or at least it seemed like it, his eyes avoiding the cameras as he walked through the busy streets of LA as he normally would. The only difference is the hand that was holding his.

A lump formed in your throat as you opened the tweet to find a thread of even more pictures of him with the mysterious person, grabbing them by the waist and smiling as they came closer. The paparazzi seemed to catch every single intimate moment he was able to show in public, much more than he ever showed you when you were both out and sober, at least. But Calum seemed happy, and that hurt you the most.

A thousand questions ran through your head as you ignored the happy tweets from fans celebrating that his favorite band member finally got a significant other. How long has this been going on? Did he ever tell you about it? You never claim exclusivity, so it could’ve had happen when you were still ‘together’, meaning he choose them. He left you and chose them, replacing you and everything you didn’t get to have without even saying goodbye.

Swallowing the bitterness of the memory with a shot of tequila, you press decline once again and order another drink. What would you say to him anyway? Would you curse him? Would you kiss him? Would he even apologize or pretend that it never happened? The truth is, you don’t even want to know.

You catch some flirty eyes from across the bar, but you ignore them as you try to collect your thoughts on this whole situation, and besides, don’t need another heartbreak at the moment.

“That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he came in” Said the bartender, pouring you another drink.

You lift your gaze towards ’pretty eyes’ over the bar, but he already seemed to have lost interest in you as his eyes scattered all over the room, looking for another person to spend his time with.

“Doesn’t seem like it” You nod toward the other end of the bar.

“What? No, not him. Him!”

They point behind you and you turn around quickly, a pretty bad idea considering how drunk you are at the moment. But wasted or not, you would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Calum is standing in the middle of a sea of people, but his eyes are solemnly focusing on you as he raises his phone to his ear, raising his eyebrows as he hears the dial tone. Almost immediately, your phone starts ringing next to you with the all too familiar name popping out again.

Without breaking eye contact, you press decline once again, standing up quickly as you start to walk up to the nearest exit, trying to get away from him as fast as you could. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you told yourself earlier that night, and yet there he was, pushing his way through a drunk crowd to get towards you.

“Y/N!” You hear him call, but you are not stopping. You don’t need this confrontation right now. You don’t want to see him or talk to him. You want to forget him and everything you ever did.

Feeling like your chest is going to explode at any second, you accelerated your pace, not caring how many people you have to push to get to the door as long as he doesn’t find you. Your legs, however, had other plans as they give out due to the mix dizziness and adrenaline you were feeling, just mere meters from the exit. You curse your past self for having so many drinks as you try to get up. But, soon enough, you feel an arm rounding around your waist and pulling you to your feet.

After almost eight months you find yourself reflected in those eyes again. The same eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach everytime he looked your way. You couldn’t help but get drawn into them, remembering that the last time you saw them they replaced the desire with anger, shaking you to your core.

He was saying something, you were sure of it because his mouth is moving “What?!”

“I said, Why aren’t you answering your phone?!” He yelled over the music. Your drunk mind can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him or cry right there on the spot.

“That’s none of your business! Now please let go of me, I want to go home”

You push yourself away from his grasp “Y/N, please I need to ta-“ He interrupted himself as he watched you almost trip over your own feet again, clearly too drunk to stand straight. In a matter of seconds, he was by your side again, this time pulling your arm over his shoulders so you could lay on him “Wha- How many drinks did you have?”

“As many as I needed” You scoffed, trying to pull away, but his grip on your waist was stronger.

“For what?! Drown yourself?”

“I needed to forget you” Calum clenches his jaw, feeling like his heart was shattered into a million pieces “But that’s clearly not working, given that you are here. Would you please let me go?”

“Y/N you are too drunk to function,”

“Am not!”

“Please, let me take you home. I need to talk to you”

“Leave me alone, Calum. I don’t need you and I most definitely don’t want to talk to you”

You turn your face to him. It has been a long time since you last saw him. He has more curls now, and a little five o’clock shadow, but his yes,,, oh, his eyes. The time stops, or at least it feels like it, it was almost like the first time you saw them, magnetic and filled with something you couldn’t decipher, but now they had something different. They were hurting, pleading, almost begging you for something you didn’t quite understand at the moment, but you know you couldn’t say no to those eyes, at least not here and not in your condition.

So after making sure you could stand properly, you caved “Fine”

I know you, you're like this

When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it

And like me, I did

But I ran out of every reason

The car ride was as silent as a tomb. The sounds of the city night and the flashing of streetlights were your only source of distraction. You looked through the window, not wanting to make any eye contact with the man that broke your heart. He, however, was anxious for you to spare a glance towards him. Calum’s fingers taped the steering wheel nervously, he wanted to fill the silence with something, anything. But his words came short as he realized that you weren’t the person he knew, you were a stranger sitting in his car. The clothes you were wearing, the state of drunkenness you were in, the anger behind your eyes and words, and the fact that you couldn’t even stan him touching you… that was not the Y/N he knew.

Once you reached the house, you didn’t even wait for him to turn the car off as you practically jumped out of the seat and went to open the door. Calum quickly following you, half of him afraid that you might hurt yourself, the other half afraid that you would lock him out.

He let out a breath of relief as you let him in. Remembering the last time he was here.

Seven and a half months ago:

It was a normal afternoon for the two of you. Things were going well, Calum started to be more open towards you, spending the night, cuddling and hanging out more without the promise of sleeping together afterwards and you loved it. You were having fun as well, you would walk Duke together or cook dinner or just exist together by watching a movie or listening to his favorite songs that you “absolutely needed to hear” And today was no different as you cuddled with him watching one of Netflix’s crappy teenage movies. Things were going well, or so you thought.

You were straddling him, lips melting together as the movie was long forgotten. His hands were cupping your ass, setting a slow pace with your hips as you grinded on him. You whole body was on fire, ready to burst when his lips made their way down your neck, leaving marks that you would later trace with your fingers as you try to hide them.

“Calum,” You moaned softly as he found your sweet spot under your ear, sucking and biting it like only he knew how. Your hands flew to the back of his head, fingers lost in his hair, tugging it lightly every time he met your hips with a dry thrust.

He groaned, drunk to sounds you were making. He loved the effect he had on you, almost as much as the effect you had on him. It was addictive, dangerous. He knows he shouldn’t play with fire, but what a lovely way to burn it was.

You moaned again when you felt his teeth grazing your jaw, finding their way to your lips again. The rolling of your hips was faster, more desperate than before, the friction was almost unbearable. You needed him with a passion “C-Calum…”

“Tell me what you want, baby” He said with a raspy voice, breathing onto your neck “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you”

You shuddered at his words, getting dizzy with his touch, his soft groans and his eyes filled with lust, looking straight into your soul, burning like the sun.

You grabbed his head by the sides, pulling him closer until your foreheads pressed together “You” you whispered loud enough for him to hear “I want all of you, Calum”

A couple of hours passed and you were still laying on the sofa, cuddled against the naked chest of the bassist. His fingers were caressing your sides as both of your breathings became even, coming out of your highs.

You felt infinite in his arms, safe and wanted. You wanted this to last forever, to have him only for yourself and be his everything. You craved for more intimate looks, for innocent touches while in public, you wanted to show the world how in love you were with this man that has, not only conquered your heart, but also your soul. You loved him, and you hope with your whole heart that he loves you too.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, drawing circles down your arm.

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or not. You knew Calum had always denied himself the possibility of love, stating time and again that he doesn’t really believe in it. But you’ve seen a change in him for the last few months you were together. He was more caring, more attentive, staying longer than he should and being there for you when you needed, not only for a quick fuck anymore. Maybe the chances of him loving you back were not as low as you thought.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” You ventured, lifting your gaze to meet his. He gave you a quizzical look, not really sure of what you were referring to “I do want all of you, Calum”

He smiled “You have me now”

“Yeah,,, but that’s not what I meant”

Taking a brave step, you pushed yourself forward and kissed him. You were done hiding the feelings you’ve been accumulating over the years, ready to let yourself go and drown on him. Only him.

Calum, however, was taken by surprise. Pulling himself from you.

“I thought we agree on not to catch feelings for each other” He said coldly. Already sitting up and looking across the room for his clothes.

You sat and watched as he got up from his spot on the couch and started to dress as fast as he could.

“Cal-“

“We agreed, Y/N. We said no string attached. Goddammit, everything was going so well, but you had to fuck it up, didn’t you?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Shattering you completely from the inside. You tried to collect your thoughts as the tears threatened to come out, but Calum kept going.

“What the hell were you thinking? What were you expecting? Huh?”

“It’s not my fault that I love you” Your voice sounded broken, weak, and you hated that. How could he be so angry? What gave him the right when you were the one who was hurting?

“Well, it’s not mine either! Is it?” Calum said with exasperation, putting on his shirt.

“I thought-“

“What? That I loved you? Y/N, I don’t love anyone! You knew that when we started this!”

“And what am I to you then?!” You matched his tone of voice, tears were already spilling down your face but you didn’t care. You were fuming “What am I, Calum? A friend? A good fuck? Huh? Was I just a toy that you could play with every time you felt needy? Have you ever thought of me as something more?”

Calum’s stare was cold as ice. He was standing in the middle of the living room, clenching his fists to either side of his body until his knuckles became white. You, on the other hand, were sitting on the couch, crying. But your eyes burned with anger as you saw how carelessly he was invalidating your feelings, throwing everything away just because he couldn’t admit his own. A silent war was being fought between the two of you, both of you so scared but with nothing left to lose.

It seemed like ages had passed before Calum spoke again, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Was there ever something more?”

You kept staring at the nothing he left behind, the last thing you heard was the slamming of your front door, leaving you alone and completely heartbroken.

Calum followed you into the kitchen, completely avoiding the living room where he last saw you, where he left you. He felt weirdly unwelcomed as you poured yourself a glass of water without even offering one to him, maybe he was.

You drink your water slowly, thinking that that will give you time to think on what to say to him. Maybe he would start talking soon, but the only thing he does is stare at you from the other side of the kitchen island. “How did you know where I was?” You asked.

“Your friend’s stories. You may have blocked me from yours, but they haven’t”

Then, silence came over you again. It was almost like he was waiting for you to say something, just like you always did. You played this game before, you are not going to cave. You are not going to give him the satisfaction of controlling the situation here.

“I need to talk to you” He finally said, letting his shoulders relax for a bit.

“You keep saying that. But you sure haven’t done a lot of talking”

The tension in the room was so thick that it could easily be cut by a knife. You always wondered what you would say to him, what would you feel the next time you saw him and, right now, you felt like there was nothing more to say. He had no right appearing into your life again, not when you were picking yourself together after he shattered you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“For what, exactly?” The venom in your voice was palpable, Calum knew this was not going to be easy for him “For leaving me here alone and then got yourself another person to play the ‘couple’ part? For practically calling me a whore? Or for giving me shit because of what I felt for you, knowing damn well you felt the same?”

You tilted your head, waiting for his answer, but it seems you left him speechless. Good.

Calum ran his hand through his curls, staring at the floor then back at you “I fucked up”

“That much is true”

“I’m serious, Y/N” He started walking towards you “I’m sorry for everything, you are right. You always are. I just- I didn’t know what to do! I panicked and-“

“And that’s your excuse of why you ran away instead of facing the problem?”

“I was scared! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Calum raised his voice. He was now standing a couple of feet in front of you, so close and yet so far away from you “Y/N, I was so fucking scared. You know that I’ve never had a committed relationship before, that I never let things get too far but with you.. God, I never felt the same with anyone like that before not after you. And then you said all of those things and I- Hearing you say that you love me was too much, I couldn’t process it and instead of saying something coherent I just lashed out on you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry”

Calum took a step forward, softly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He took your silence as his cue to continue.

“You were always there for me, every time I needed you were there. No questions asked, no judging, not waiting for something in return. Always making me laugh, supporting me and letting me take a break from the messy life I have. You were the best thing in my life and I took you for granted. I hate that it has taken me this long to realize that, but I just miss you, Y/N. I miss us, so much that you can’t imagine how much it hurts. I need you with me, please let’s just go back to where we started. Or we can start over, whatever you want! But, please, baby, please don’t leave me”

And just before you know it, Calum cupped your cheek with his free hand and brought your face closer to him, crashing his lips into yours. You responded almost immediately by parting your lips and granting him more access, getting completely lost inside the kiss.

For a moment it felt like the old times, he tastes just like you remember and his touch stills makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. For years you’ve been waiting for this, for him to feel the same about you and love you without any fears or doubts, claiming that he was yours and you were his. You wanted this for so long… but why does it feel so bad?

Gathering all the courage you could manage, you push Calum away from you.

“S-stop!” You said, trembling “Stop, this isn’t right”

He gave you a confused look as he took a step back “Y/N-“

“What about your partner? Calum, did you at least break up with them before you came to find me?” The way he looked at the floor gave you all the answers you needed. You raised your hand to your forehead, suppressing the urge to cry or laugh at his antics “Oh my God”

“I was going to! I swear I just-“ He failed to find an excuse “Things were doing awful between us lately, Y/N. You have to understand, I-“

“What?!” You spat “that you had to make sure I was on board with all of this?! I am not a consolation prize, Calum. I am not a second choice!”

“Baby, I know. I-“

“Don’t call me that!”

Calum took another step back, he has never seen you so angry before.

“How dare you? How. Dare. You, Calum. Coming here after eight months! saying all that shit about how much I mean to you when it’s just bullshit”

“Y/N, it’s not-“

“I’m not fucking finish” You say raising a hand to silence him “Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? I don’t get a single text or call or fucking smoke signal from you for eight months, knowing how I felt about you, and now suddenly you're asking for it back? Saying that you miss all that we had? We had nothing, Calum. We were nothing more than just a fuck around, you said it yourself, didn’t you? There was no ‘us’ for you to miss. You made damn sure of that. You don’t miss me, not really. You miss how I made you feel. How easy it was for me to be there for you every time you called, well, I’m tired of fixing all your problems, I ran out of every reason to do it.

And I was so stupid, you know? For believing just for a second that this could actually mean something when it never meant something to you in the first place! Did you even think about how I would feel about all of this? Of course not! Why would you? After all, I’m just Y/N! The one who always gets stepped on, why should my feelings matter? If I’m always going to be there for you and everything you ask for. Well, fuck that!”

“Y/N..” Calum tried to intervene, but you couldn’t hear him.

“You want to know what I did after you left? I cried myself to sleep for weeks, reliving every moment we had, every word you said just before you left. Waiting by the phone for hours just to see if you’d call. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I was the living incarnation of death because I realized I lived just for you. Well, not anymore. You said you were hurting, you have no idea what I went through so, I’m sorry, but I don't really care how bad it hurts. I’m done. We are done”

You walk by him and towards the front door, opening it as an invitation for him to leave. Calum, however, remained standing in your kitchen, staring at you with glossy eyes.

“Baby, please don’t do this” He said with a trembling voice “I don’t know what to do without you I’m- I’m broken”

You were still standing by the door. Unmoving and without an inch of sympathy for the man crying in front of you.

“You broke me first, Calum. But I’m all glued back together now, and I did it by myself. Hope one day you could learn to do that too”

And, for the first time in months, you saw him leave.

[mikaze-discord]

OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!".  His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist!  To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl).  It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon: 

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see.  Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon: 

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt: 

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

[shadow-scenarios]

Hiiii it's me againnn~ so I just thought of something. What if the PT boys have an S/O who is a phantom thief or just a persona user in general but for some reason they lose their persona and end up manifesting a Palace? :33

Hey, simulationone !! Hope you’re doing well. :)

This was a really interesting request to write, I really enjoyed it!!

{ Once again, I wrote too much for Akechi because I was interested in how it would turn out. Hey, at least it’ll satiate the stans. }

- Nexus.

Joker { Akira Kurusu }

✧ As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira became increasingly concerned as his significant other said they felt as though they were going to collapse in Mementos. They had been on the back lines the entire time so there was no chance that they should be injured by anything but he decides to leave at the next Break Room because the others were tired as well.

✧ Something seemed to be different about their appearance but he could not quite pinpoint it. Perhaps they were tired? His mind was all too muddled to properly come to a conclusion & Morgana was telling him to head to bed.

✧ When the next meeting was called & they had not turned up, it was quite suspicious. His significant other was never one to miss a meeting, even if it was just to talk about information or plot. Pulling out his phone, he texted them but received no response for the entire afternoon.

✧ Disgruntled at the lack of response, he went to school the next day to confront them. Finding out they had not attended school today, he was worried even more than before. Could they be ill? Is that why they felt faint in Mementos?

✧ He never suspects that they would gain a Palace until someone else types their name into the Metaverse Navigator & tells him. As soon as he finds out, he wastes no time at all in infiltrating the Palace with the other Phantom Thieves.

✧ The whole time, he is quieter than usual & only speaks to give out orders to the others or to summon his Personas. In truth, he is reflecting & looking back at his interactions with them to see if there was anything he could have done to stop their Palace from developing.

✧ Once the time comes to send the Calling Card, he personally delivers it. No matter their response, Akira is determined to fix something he could have just as easily prevented. This is the one time that he feels a bad taste in his mouth from beating a Shadow.

✧ Immediately afterwards, he finds them & apologises for not being good enough. In the end whilst everything is fixed, Akira looks out more often for them. They are the most important thing in his life, after all.

Skull { Ryuji Sakamoto }

✧ Another mission in Mementos, another day. Dispatching of Shadows was easy for Skull as long as he had both his friends & his significant other. The next particular request was rather personal to them. So when Joker requested them on the front lines & their Phantom Thief outfit disintegrated into flames, something was wrong. Why had they lost their will to rebel?

✧ Everyone was concerned but they brushed it off, saying that someone else should just take their place. So Joker requested that he be put up in the front, which he wanted to badly to protest against but he could not find the words to do so, especially against his leader.

✧ With the Shadow dispatched of, Ryuji thought that they would return back to normal but they did not. Because Mementos was inherently dangerous, a decision to leave was made.

✧ Perhaps distorted by feeling useless to the rest of the Phantom Thieves, they eventually developed a Palace. Although he still hung out with them, their self-deprecating behaviour was concerning.

✧ It was all too similar to Futaba. The behaviour, how trapped they felt. At times, Ryuji was not the most intellectual of people but even he could connect the dots & type their name into the Metaverse Navigator. With some reluctance, he accepted that this was something the Phantom Thieves would have to tackle together.

✧ Throughout the Palace, he insists on being in the front lines as much as possible. Breaks become shorter & he feels more impatient. The others eventually have to force him to relax, they are working on the problem but in order to be safe, they had to regain energy.

✧ Once the Calling Card is delivered & they take the Treasure, Ryuji waits. He knows that most of the other victims of a Palace needed time to come to term with their thoughts & the others reminded him that patience is the key. Whenever they decide to start appearing in public again, he pulls them into a kiss & vows not to let anything bad happen to them ever again.

Fox { Yusuke Kitagawa }

✧ Shock is his first reaction when the other Phantom Theives inform him that his significant other had a Palace. Previously, Yusuke knew that they were a Persona user but they refused to join the group, opting to become their own vigilante of justice.

✧ Typing their name in, he has to confirm it for himself. Once he sees the actual Palace, only then does he properly believe that anything had happened to them. He strengthens his resolve but asks to remain on the back lines. Knowing full well that he is open to moments of emotion, Fox does not want to be in the way when there is a life threatening situation going down.

✧ Although he could not bare to fight against their Shadow self, he repeatedly insists on writing the Calling Card himself. It is incredibly well written, if not slightly melodramatic. However, it still has the intended effect.

✧ Giving them space is a ghastly thought, especially when who knows what they have been through in order to manifest a Palace? He immediately finds his way over to their house —even if he has to walk two miles— with comfort food.

✧ Ever so gently, Yusuke pulls them into a cuddle & asks if there is anything he can do to make them feel better. Despite the fact he has no money, pampering them emotionally is something he can do quite easily.

Crow { Goro Akechi }

✧ Encountering his significant other in the Metaverse had been a surprise to be sure & he had almost resigned himself to eliminating them but when they had told him that they were not interested in justice or Palaces & that they instead merely wanted to gather both materials from Mementos as well as flowers for Jose, he sighed in relief.

✧ Although it meant that he was forced to wear his Detective Prince outfit whenever he went to Mementos, it was easy to trick them whenever he saw them on the surface level talking to Jose. Besides, it was easy to switch between Personas.

✧ So when they stopped coming, he was concerned. They had been cancelling dates for a long while, which had never happened before & everything seemed so tense around them. It was strange.

✧ Weeks later, Akechi became sick of his behaviour & typed their name into the Metaverse Navigator. His heart went cold when a Palace of all things came up.

✧ Everything went on hold as he tried to figure out the location & distortion. Anything goes from texting them, to directly asking why they had been acting strange. From the terminology used, he eventually figures it out & heads to the Metaverse for the first time with the intent not to kill someone. He tears through the entire Palace in a day. No Shadow is left alive that tries to stop his approach. When he reaches the Treasure room he comes to a realisation: How can he force the Treasure to manifest?

✧ There was one solution & he hated to do so but eventually he decided to take up the name of the Phantom Thieves & cobbled together a calling card in their style. It was the same eloquent & extra writing along side their glitzy logo, so looked believable.

✧ Facetious was an accurate word to describe their reaction when he stated that this Calling Card was found in the mail & this reflected on their Shadow self. After defeating what was left of their cognition, Akechi took the Treasure, fleeing from the quickly fading Palace.

✧ When he next ran into them, things were much different. They apologised for being both physically & emotionally distant but he reassured them with a hug that there was no harm done. After all, he missed some dates himself.

Word Count: 1.3k

Publish Date: 13.10.20

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XII — masterlist

concept: chris is hosting a charity event, and asks you to be his date. tensions come to a head in the friendship group when things get out of hand. the slowest of slow burns. part thirteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader // platonic!sebastian stan x reader

word count: 5,1k

warnings: tw:blood (reader breaks a glass and accidentally cuts herself), angst

author's note: the quote that is bolded in this part is a direct quote from chadwick boseman. as a south african, he, and his portrayal of the black panther, meant the world to me. i very briefly considered making the gala in this part be held in his honour, but i felt it might be insensitive, especially with everything else effectively overshadowing it. so i just included the quote as a little ode to him. rest well, king.

If scientists were ever to turn their dissecting gaze to the the phenomenon of The Third Wheel, you would be a prime specimen candidate for study.

Because in that week she stayed, your status was relegated to just that: a third wheel.

The tabloids had fun with that, too. You were becoming a national treasure of a meme. You'd even seen yourself on Twitter the other day, the caption reading "my friends vs me" attached to some sneakily taken paparazzi picture of you reading a book under a tree in the park while looking every bit as stone-faced and disinterested while Chris and Lily could barely keep their hands off each other.

In every photo that followed, it was the same. If you wanted to keep someone distracted for hours, ask them to pore over every single newly published photo of Lily and Chris, and try and find a single one where they weren't touching eachother.

They'd come up empty, because it was a waste of time. Overnight, Chrily had become the new celebrity couple of the moment.

And you'd become the patron saint of third wheels everywhere.

It wasn't like you'd forced yourself on the couple, begging to go out with them. If anything, you would've much rather been in Tibet, if not the furthest geographical location away from them and their canoodling.

But the thing about Lily was that she was so damned nice, that whenever you declined their offer, she would insist until you said yes.

The newest picture on your feed, retweeted lovingly by your friends and apparently thirty thousand people worldwide, was of you, mid-eyeroll, mouth stuffed with pizza while Chris and Lily cuddled next to you at the restaurant you had gone to earlier that week for lunch, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. The caption was the forever classic "mood."

You tried not to groan. It wasn't particularly flattering, and definitely not dignified having so many people watch you endure this.

At least the paps couldn't follow you into the house, because that was where the real magic happened. Many a night you would wait patiently for Chrily to stop whatever it was they were doing on the couch and take it back to the bedroom before you'd sneak into the kitchen, trying to stealthily drown your sorrows in Hagen Dasz.

Because once they'd take it to the bedroom... needless to say, Dodger had become a regular bunk mate of yours, and the bathroom doors remained firmly shut with music blasting on your earphones.

There were different kinds of sadness rejection could leave you with. There was the immobilizing kind, the kind that would leave you bed bound and catatonic, purely unable to move.

And then there was what you were experiencing. The kind that had you dragging yourself out of the house at any possible spare moment, just to not be in close quarters with them, but also to not be alone with your thoughts.

So that was why, when Chris found you, you were outside, sunbathing by the pool, while Dodger pranced through the sprinklers in the large lawn beside you.

"Have you seen this?" Your voice had become somewhat devoid of emotion the past few days. You knew that if you let yourself feel too much, you'd feel it all. And then you'd show your hand. "This is the greatest feeling in the world."

You passed your phone to Chris, who was chuckling at the flatness of the tone in which you had rejoiced. That chuckle morphed into full blown laughter when he saw the meme that you had been looking at earlier.

"Yeah, laugh it up," you mocked. "You're going to have to start paying me more now, you know. I'm famous."

"Would a higher salary buy me a date to tonight's benefit?" Chris asked, still laughing a little when he passed the phone back to you.

"What happened to Lily?"

You knew he wasn't asking you because he'd wanted you there with him. He was asking you because something must've happened to prevent time spent with his precious girlfriend. God, you sounded bitter. Jealousy really did not become you.

"She had to fly back to London last night," he said, forlorn. "Something came up. She said she'd try to make it, but I haven't heard from her yet and it's an eleven hour flight."

You hummed in response, your only indication to having heard him. Your eyes were closed behind your sunglasses, but you could hear the frown in his voice when he continued.

"The dinner is already paid for, and I have a dress waiting for you. I got it for Lily for tonight, but–"

"You know, in some countries, buying a date for the night is called solicitation. And I'm sorry, Chrisopher," you said, finally turning your head to look at him, "but I'm just not that kind of girl."

His last ditch effort to persuade you had your attention. "There will be an open bar."

"You really know how to make a girl swoon."

———————

The dress was waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower. It was laid out on your bed, a rich, deep, violet. Demure, but corseted, with a floor length skirt.

If it was bought to fit Lily... You swallowed thickly, self conscious in your own body for the first time since you'd been in high school.

You were comfortable in your body. So much so, you'd even danced burlesque in front of many an ogling stranger at Chris' dare on your birthday.

But Lily... She was not quite of this world. And once again, jealousy struck in the worst sense: you were drawing comparisons to her and yourself. Which was never healthy.

The dress fit you surprisingly well – but the moment of truth would only come once the zipper was done up. For all your trying, you simply could not reach it long enough to zip it fully by yourself.

You had become accustomed to Chris barging into your room unannounced, so the soft knock at your door had your heart leaping into your throat.

"Are you ready? The car should be arriving in..." There was some shuffling – Chris pulling his suit sleeve back to check his watch. "Ten minutes."

If your heart hadn't already been in your throat, it certainly was now. "Just a minute," you strangled out, a new sense of vigour in your motions as you struggled to reach the zipper.

"You alright in there?" Chris called through the door.

"I'm–" You huffed in exasperation, giving up.

Not waiting for an invitation, in case something was truly wrong – you had a habit of keeping those kinds of things to yourself, even if they tore you apart within – Chris cracked the door, peering in, eyes downcast and averted in case you were in a compromising position. "Can I come in?"

Swallowing your humility, you hummed your admission.

He slipped into your room, eyes still on the ground. His hands slid into his pockets – something you realised he tended to do if he was a little uncomfortable or if he was trying to find the right words to say. Being a man with such a vast vocabulary, he often found himself dumbfounded in your very presence.

"You could at least look at me."

It was intended as a joke, but your voice was cracked and soft, and it sounded so much... more than what you meant.

He slowly pulled his eyes towards your face, taking you in from the floor up. His raking stare landed on your bare back, and, without much of a prompt, he strode over to you, hand already inching towards the zipper.

He felt you tense – he was that close to you.

"May I?" He asked, so gently that you wouldn't have even heard it if the room hadn't been so suddenly still, and if he hadn't been standing so fucking close.

You couldn't speak, tongue thick in your mouth. So you just nodded.

His knuckle grazed up your spine as he zipped the dress, and if he didn't notice the gooseflesh that rose, he certainly did when once the dress was zipped, he absentmindedly smoothed his warm hands over your shoulderblades.

You shuddered under his touch, but found yourself pulling away. You had a habit of doing that, too. Not that it was unwarranted – he simply just wasn't yours to touch.

Slowly, you turned to face him, and the look on his face – followed by a near imperceptible sharp gasp – nearly made your heart explode.

The dress hugged your every curve, complimenting you perfectly. If you let your imagination escape you, you would almost imagine it had been made with the intention of you wearing it, and you alone.

"I'm surprised it fits," you said, only to break the stretch of silence that had gathered.

"Why?" He shrugged, reeling himself in. The moment was gone instantaneously. "It's tailored to you. It's yours."

———————

The gala was a private party, but that didn't stop the press from waiting outside the gates.

Camera flashes blinded you, even behind the tinted windows of the rented town car, and you felt yourself withdrawing from the windows altogether.

Unfortunately, that just brought you closer to Chris, who was seated with you in the back on the plush leather seats.

"Sorry," you mumbled, having pressed yourself into his shoulder.

There was tension in the car – you'd have to be well and truly inept to not notice. It was slowly dawning on you, how unusual this all was. He had a girlfriend, for fuck sakes. What were you doing there with him?

It was almost a relief getting out of the car, the cool night air caressing your skin as you inhaled deeply, steeling yourself. It had become immeasurably stuffy in the backseat, and you were just grateful that the discomfort brewing in the pit of your stomach dissipated with every new fresh breath of air.

The air was misted with ocean spray, and in the distance, you could hear the crashing of waves against rocks, churning sea perfectly mirroring your roiling emotions.

The grecian style manor in which the gala took place sat atop a cliffside, overlooking dark, inky sea. It was almost enough to take your breath away.

A long set of marble stairs led to the open double doors, and just from being their waitress, you knew how celebrities thrilled in making an entrance. And what an entrance it was.

Panting slightly from the climb – especially having done so in heels, and without the assistance of Chris' waiting arm – you stepped into the gilded foyer, guarded by marble Greek statues and busts. A crystal chandelier cast warm light, reflecting off the large pillars that held the roof like Atlas was said to have held the world.

Chris playfully chucked you under your chin to shut your open hanging mouth. Your teeth clattered together and he gave you a knowing smirk. "Has anyone ever told you that you're easy to impress?"

"Then you must be severely unimpressive, Evans," you hissed back before making your way past him and towards the doors leading to he ballroom. Judging by the chatter you could hear inside, this was where the event was being held. Perceiving that you were alone, you turned at the doorway to see Chris watching you leave, brow furrowed in thought.

"Chris?"

He snapped out of it, raising his brows in question. "Yeah?"

"Are you coming?"

"To my own event?" He smirked, striding over to join you. "Of course."

———————

The charity was held in honour of Children in Need and The Children's Trust, two charities Chris worked closely with.

As the host, he had a lot of rounds to make, and you found yourself standing a little off to the side, following him like a shadow, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Your line of charity work was more hands on, having helped rebuild houses and gather supplies following natural disasters. You were primarily a volunteer. But suddenly, to be surrounded by the wealthy benefactors – who you knew you'd never be able to do much without in the world – you were at a loss.

Wealth dripped from women's ears in the form of drooping diamond earrings, their very bodies clad in money, while the men sported it around their wrists and in their suits. You had never felt so plain, so simple in your stature before.

After the fifteenth handshake, you decided to let Chris do what he did best. His natural charisma and charm was already hard at work, and you tried to slip away without him noticing.

You had made it all of two steps when his hand found your wrist, gently pulling you back to him. His voice was low. "Where are you going?"

"Participate in the open bar, see if I can spot any familiar faces..." In all honesty, you were just uncomfortable, and the smile on your face was becoming increasingly fake. You needed a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts, organize them properly.

His other hand had found your waist, a thumb subconsciously running along the velvet coated boning of the corset as he searched your eyes. Conclusive that nothing was outwardly wrong, he let you go.

"Save me the last dance," he said, eyes bright under the golden light.

You smiled tightly. As you departed, you called over your shoulder: "no promises."

———————

The corset was feeling tighter by the passing second.

You were stood at the donations table, where guests could anonymously place their contributions to the charity of their choice. And the numbers people were dropping, casually, like it was nothing...

Of course, you understood that it was everything. These children needed it. But you had wanted to donate something too, and you felt disheartened by the ever climbing amount of money they placed.

It helped to have deep pockets, but yours were shallow. A contribution was a contribution, though, and every cent counted.

Tentatively, you picked up the engraved golden fountain pen that had probably just been discarded by Elon Musk, and shakily scrawled your number down.

A low whistle from behind you nearly made you leap out of your skin. Turning, you shot a burning glare to Sebastian, who had just arrived. He had spotted you, and promptly came over to hover over your shoulder.

"That's quite a sum of money," he commented.

"I'm sorry that not all of us fought a giant grape in the world's highest grossing film of all time, but I'm doing what I can," you growled back.

"Easy, tiger," he said, hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant."

You had known what he meant, just given the admiration on his face. He was pleasantly surprised and appreciated your effort, even if it didn't even come close to the lowest bid the others had laid.

You supposed you were just irritated – irritated you couldn't do more, that you hadn't done more. That you were at this event that you clearly shouldn't be at. An event that Lily would've shone by Chris' side at.

"I'm sorry," you sighed. Sebastian wasn't deserving of your bark nor bite. You decided a joking remark would ease the tension. "These are meant to be done anonymously, you know."

"Yeah, but everyone drunkenly boasts about it eventually. Especially the older ones," he said, sliding easily past you to place his own money. You didn't look at the number – it felt like it would cheapen the act of charity.

He led you to the bar, where Mackie had struck up a conversation with Scarlett. It was nice to see them all again, familiar faces in a sea of unknowns.

Scarlett stunned in a subdued midnight blue – pantsuit snug on her form in suggestion of a good tailor – her hair falling around her shoulders, lips painted a red reminiscent of her name.

She brightened when she saw you, immediately roping you into a perfume scented hug. "Oh, thank God, save me from him."

You laughed softly into her hair. "I'm sorry, but once he's got his hooks in, there's no letting go."

"You got that right." Anthony pulled you into a hug of his own once Scarlett released you. "How're you doing, girl?"

You waved off his concern as he scanned your face. "I'm fine."

"You having a fun time third wheeling?" Scarlett sipped her cocktail, imprinting a perfect red stain on the rim. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and you just knew.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes," Anthony chuckled.

"You've all seen it?" Your eyes rested on Sebastian when you asked, who had his elbows propped on the bar, waiting for his drink. He was the only one who hadn't admitted to it yet.

"It's all I can see every time I open any social media," he grinned, nodding to the bartender in thanks when the drink was served. "Congratulations, you're an overnight national treasure."

Anthony raised his glass in toast to you. "To {your name}."

The clink of Scarlett's glass against Anthony's really drove the slow embarrassment creeping across your cheeks. "Not the hero we needed."

"But the hero we deserved," finished Sebastian.

"You rehearsed this, didn't you?" You groaned. You reached for Sebastian's freshly poured drink. "What is that?"

"Bourbon... Why do you–? Hey!"

You had promptly taken the glass from him at the mention of hard liquor and threw it back, embracing the burn the alcohol consumed your throat in.

"That's the spirit," Anthony winked.

Seb was pouting, mournfully staring at the crystal tumbler you had returned to his reaching hand. "I just got that..."

While Sebastian ordered another – and a drink for you specifically, so as to prevent further robbery – Scarlett leaned closer to you. "Where are the first and second wheels anyway? I haven't seen the first, and have yet to meet the second."

"The first is over there," you pointed him out once you'd spotted him in the crowd. "And the second, well... She's–"

And in your surprise, you abruptly cut yourself short. Because gliding through the doors was a woman looking every bit as beautiful as how one would perceive a real life Disney princess, clad in sweeping pale pink chiffon that shimmered with every movement, hair coiled in perfect ringlets and held in place with jeweled flower hairpins. She was breathtaking.

"Well, she just walked in."

———————

You stood in the back garden, the scent of roses mixing with salt spray. Overlooking the sea, you were perched at the edge of the cliff, watching the water smash against the unmoving rocks.

You had endured as much as you possibly could. You watched them dance together, sweeping across the marble floors in perfect harmony. The first time, you'd admit it was beautiful. The second, you were clutching your drink a little tighter. The third dance had you finding solace on the balcony halfway through, picking idly at the rose petals that climbed up the trellis in thorny vines.

It was the speech that made you reach your tipping point.

Guilt swamped you – this was Chris' big moment, and you were guilty that you weren't there to celebrate it with him. As a friend does. As a friend should.

But it was so difficult, seeing him up there, with her by his side. She held herself perfectly, back straight, chin tilted, poised – regal.

Your suspicions were confirmed: Lily was perfectly suited to this world. To this life. She fit in.

And she was funny – interjecting lighthearted commentary into Chris' speech with witty remarks that didn't interrupt him nor detract from the sincerity of his words in the slightest, but sent light bubbling laughter scattering across the crowd, warming them to her presence. And after every comment like that, he would look at her with the softest of smiles, adoration etched on his face. And there were a lot of comments.

They were so perfectly charming together. You had to leave.

Your departure wasn't noticed, and your presence wasn't missed.

You had stopped a passing waiter for a glass of champagne, and made your way back to the balcony. It was there that you noticed the cliff edge, moonlight glinting off the ink spill sea.

Making your way down marble steps, the clicking of your heels signifying your descent, you found solace in the silence the grass granted your footsteps.

The hem of your long skirts dragged across the dew ridden grass, and for a moment, you could imagine that you, yourself, were a princess.

A princess without a prince.

You had no intention of doing anything rash. You just wanted to watch the waves.

And so you did, the repetitive crush of water against stone lulling you into a hypnotic state. It was calming – seeing something so constant in these turbulent times.

But as you so feared, time alone meant time to think. And the past week crashed on you, simultaneous with the dreadful depths below.

All the emotions that had been lurking, had been building up – all the emotions that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel; resentment, pain, jealousy, and above it all, heartaching love – began to bubble up in your throat, and from inside you could hear the beginning scatter of applause, and as it crescendoed into a thunder you let loose a gutwrenching scream.

You would have no indication of how far it would travel, that mournful wail of yours.

But you screamed, and screamed, your voice hoarse.

You screamed until you felt tears in your eyes.

You heard, faintly, a glass shatter, and you felt a sharp sting that almost immediately numbed itself, and still you screamed, until your throat was raw, and you could taste blood on your tongue.

Exhausted, you dropped to your knees. And still, inside, the applause continued, unconcerned with your traumas.

Breathing heavily, you came back to yourself. And when you did, pain flooded you.

Not emotional, no, that had already been carried away on the night air – leaving you numb in your bones.

But a searing, stinging pain in your hand.

In the darkness of the night, the blood looked black, rivalling the black sea. You had broken the glass in your hand with the fury of your cry, and when you turned to inspect it, little shards of glass were still seen to be peering through before being consumed by the champagne mixed gore.

"FUCK!" The word was drawn out in a wrenching croaked sob, and you held your hand before you, ripped out of your complacency with sheer agony.

You don't know how long you sat there, just staring at your hand, watching the blood trickle. All you knew was that you were shivering by the time Scarlett found you, crimson staining your dress – turning the violet to black. The smell of metal was heavy on the air, mingled with champagne and sea.

"{Your name?}" Scarlett called to you. Her muted steps were signalled by the rustling of grass as she drew closer. "{Your name}, are you..."

And then she saw your face. And then your hand. And she was sprinting to you, panic in her eyes, careless of her heels.

"Jesus fucking Christ, {your name}, are you okay? Holy shit, fuck, hold on, let's just get you–ANTHONY!"

She had landed on her knees beside you, cradling your hand as a slew of profanities left her lips before ultimately calling for assistance.

Anthony came running. "What? What is it?!" A sharp intake of breath. "What the fuck happened?"

You barely registered Anthony's suit jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. The shock had rendered you catatonic. "It was an accident," you said dumbly.

"Help me get her up, we need to get her some medical attention."

Scarlett did as instructed, their otherwise warm hands perceiving to your icy skin as scorching. When you stood, you noticed your knees were soaked through from dew, mud clinging to the now ruined dress. You felt sorrow, but that was quickly consumed by vacancy. You weren't sure what you preferred – feeling everything or nothing at all.

Anthony had his arm around your shoulder, Scarlett holding you up by the elbow of the arm that was uninjured as they guided you back inside, careful with their steps. It was a snail's pace, your legs barely working and them having to compensate for it.

"What happened?" The question on everyone's minds left Sebastian's lips.

"We don't know, we just found her like this," Anthony said. So often quick with a joke and smile, Anthony was grave in his delivery now. "Take her to a hospital, get her hand fixed up, get her home."

Sebastian nodded, sliding Anthony's blazer off of you to return it to its owner before replacing it with his own. He took you under his arm in a protective embrace. You were keeping to the edges of the party, not wanting to draw any attention. You kept your head ducked, just watching more and more blood pool in your cupped hand, watching, waiting for it to overflow, fascinated by it.

The commotion that began at your slow departure drew you out of your reverie.

Chris – having seen his friends clustered together, air clouding them tense – was stalking to where you all stood.

"What happened?" You heard again, and unfortunately not for the last time. The doctor would ask the same question a little later. "Fuck, {your name}. Let me take you home."

The way your shoulders stiffened was not lost on Anthony.

"I think you've done enough," he said coolly, holding up a hand to halt Chris' advances. "Sebastian is going to take her home, come talk to me when you've figured things out."

Chris was dumbstruck by the sudden change in demeanor. "Anthony–"

"No!" He snapped. "Tonight isn't about you. The Chris I know would've respected that."

"Not here," a strong voice interjected. You all turned to see Lily approaching the small circle that had formed around the unravelling drama. Guilt was thick in your throat. Tonight was in celebration of a fundraiser for children, and you'd single handedly ruined it. "Not tonight. Not here, not now."

She strode over to you, separating Anthony and Chris in the process. They still stared each other down.

She took a hold of your hand, surprisingly tender in direct opposition to the subdued fury in her voice. Concern overtook her as she addressed Sebastian. "You get her to a doctor, and you make sure she gets home safe."

And with one scathing gaze to the guests, the crowd dissipated.

"Lily–" Chris started, but was cut off when that same scathing look was turned on him.

"I don't know what's happening here, but fix it. Anthony is one of your best friends. So is {your name}. Remember that."

At her departure, Anthony summoned Chris outside onto the balcony to continue the conversation privately.

"I know how much she means to you, Chris. And I know I make my jokes, have my fun. You know what I think, I've never once tried to hide it. But you need to let her go. You can't have both."

And then Chris Evans – forever stoic – crumbled. His body wracked with sobs and tears fell freely down his face. Anthony pulled Chris to him, allowing his friend to cry into his shoulder. It was a hard thing to watch – a strong man falling apart.

"It just hurts so much," he garbled out, muffled by Anthony's dress shirt.

"I know it does."

A moment passed as Chris dissolved. Then, resolutely, he straightened.

"You're right," Chris breathed in deeply, gathering himself. "It's not about me."

He withdrew from Anthony, wiping the tears away quickly with his palm. And like a storm, the calm that settled was instantaneous. You would've never even known he had broken if not for the red rimming his eyes.

"Here's some great advice from a great man I once knew: you might have one thing in your head, but the things you're doing don't lead you down that road, necessarily. When you're young, you don't want to hear that. You think you can do everything, be all things."

It was cryptic, but the meaning was clear. Chris would have to choose. He couldn't be with Lily and keep you around. Not because he knew how you felt – he certainly didn't – but because of the way he did. You'd been an expert at masking your emotions, so much so that you'd shattered like that champagne flute, so desperately wanting him to be happy in spite of his choice.

"Who said that?" Chris asked, smiling mournfully. He already knew. "Shakespeare?"

"No. A much greater man. I like to keep him close when I can."

———————

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Sebastian finally said. The drive to the hospital was done in sombre silence, and, when you'd returned to his side in the waiting room, he had merely taken you under his arm again to guide you to the car. "But just know that I'm here to talk. If you want to."

"It was an accident," you said simply. And it was. Of that, you were certain. You had just gotten carried away with your release, and unfortunately, the glass was a casualty.

You watched as the lights flew past the window against which your head leaned. Sebastian didn't speak again until you were pulling up the long driveway of Chris' house. Forever Chris' house, never quite yours.

"Okay."

And that was the end of the conversation.

When you entered, Dodger immediately sensed the mood. He pushed his head into your hand, whining softly. His large, brown eyes even asked it. "What happened?"

"Hey, Dodge," you croaked. You wouldn't be surprised if your voice was gone by morning.

Sebastian helped you remove your dress, and turned his back to you while you dressed. You harshly tugged the makeup from your face single handedly with a wipe, your other hand secured in a bandage.

It wasn't until Sebastian had tucked you into bed that you asked him to stay.

You sounded so small, so childlike just then. He stared at you for the longest time, hovering between rejection and acceptance. There must've been something in your expression, a small plea reaching out for him, and he softened, a tender smile on his face.

He was reluctant, you knew that. But you selfishly didn't want to be alone, and he was there.

He kicked his shoes off, removing his tie before sliding into bed beside you.

"Tell me a story."

"I don't know many stories. I know some in Romanian from my childhood, but–"

"Tell me those."

So he did. You didn't understand a single word, but that was fine. You drifted off to sleep, Sebastian's melodic tale guiding you to rest.

And when Chris returned home later that night, he came to check on you – only to find you sleeping peacefully beside another man.

He knew then that he didn't need to make a choice; you'd already made it for him.