#2/3 get purple girlfriends (sorry dot)

[sunnymarbles]

anthropomorphic little girls in pink with hair accessories from long-lasting/rebooted franchises that could beat the shit out of you

also popularly headcannoned as transgender lesbians

[celestialrry]

stood up

3.5k

hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) )  here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з

summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note

Y/N was excited.

It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.

That’s what she kept telling herself anyways. 

It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such. 

Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie. 

So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”

He was not.

It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins. 

He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again. 

Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem. 

Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them— well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing. 

Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft  “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.

A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up. 

 So yeah, Y/N was excited.

She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.

Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.

He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch. 

8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.  

She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.

。:°ஐ

Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.

Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Until, he was.

Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.

In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.

When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.

He stood her up. 

Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).

And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing. 

What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat. 

But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning. 

“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.

“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .

At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”

“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.

Now this, this was a mistake.

“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.

“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”

At these words, Mitch stands straight up  making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes. 

“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again. 

“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.

。:°ஐ

The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal. 

She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.

A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night.  She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.

Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room. 

“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end. 

。:°ஐ

It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him. 

Harry just couldn’t take it anymore. 

It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.” 

She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going. 

“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”

It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,

I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”

His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.” 

His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.

“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 

She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.

“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Dry Humor-W.L

“can you write some fluff for Will where the reader (his gf), helps Will with some eboys content, and has very dry humour, so ends up completely roasting the others (and maybe some other friends like sidemen and the Cals), and like the fans find it really funny?“

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

_______________

"Hey, love can you come help me with something?" It was normal for Will to call Y/n in to help him film something, usually it'd be just another Reddit video, sometimes it'd be for his main channel. It had surprised Y/n when she found out she was needed for an Eboys video. "You're not gonna make fun of me, are you?" Y/n glanced at the camera that was flashing a red dot. He was filming. "Not at all, I actually need your help picking out some of the boys' YouTube videos to review in an Eboys video," Will explained, pulling YouTube up on his monitor. "Then why are you filming?" Y/n kept her eyes on the camera. "Oh, in case there're any golden moments that we can put into the video," Will smiled to the camera. Y/n gave him a look, only causing Will to let out a small laugh. "Anyways, let's look at some of Alex's videos." Will had scrolled down through Alex's videos, finally spotting a good video from around 2 years ago. "Alex's old thumbnails make me anxious to look at," the h/c girl had a look on her face Will couldn't really read. "Why's that?" "I don't know, they look like something a teenage tik toker would make when trying to start a YouTube channel," Y/n had begun to bite on her nails. A smile spread across Will's face, he looked into the camera with a small nod. "What?" "Nothing," Will gave a shrug as he looked back to his computer. There were a few moments of silence before Y/n spoke up again. "It's crazy," Y/n had spoken up as Alex's video began to play. "What?" "Alex has gone through more hairstyle changes than I've changed my clothes," Y/n replied, keeping her eyes on the monitor, watching Alex talk as his purple hair was clearly visible. Will let out another laugh. "Oh, this is great," Will smiled, grasping onto his girlfriend's hand. Alex's video had finished up, leaving Will to start scrolling through his next friend's videos. He had chosen James Marriott to react to next. He had soon enough clicked on a video from James's series 'Can't Actually Sing.' Y/n hadn't said much throughout the video, but it only had taken so long before she finally spoke up. "I'm sorry, but if James keeps talking about Wonderwall, I'm going to lose my mind," Y/n let out a sigh, shaking her head. James had just started to talk about the song again on the video he filmed. "Wonderwall is really that annoying to you, isn't it?" Will looked over to his girlfriend. "I use to not care about the song. it's cool that James likes the song, but he talks about it so often. It's gotten so annoying," Y/n gave a shrug. Will only gave a nod as the couple continued to watch through James's video. "Okay, since you judged Alex's thumbnails, what do you think about James's?" Will had asked as soon as James's video had ended. "He literally makes the same face in every thumbnail he puts his face in. The only difference is that he moves it around. Wannabe Sniperwolf, 3/10," Y/n glanced over to the camera for a moment. There wasn't much emotion to her voice, Will couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "Wannabe Sniperwolf, that's what I'm calling James now," Will grinned. Finally, it was George's turn to be judged by Y/n. Will had chosen a video that didn't involve George playing a gameplay. Halfway through the video, George had gotten up and began to walk around. "Listen, I know I'm short but at least I'm not George," Y/n shook her head. "Isn't George taller than you?" Will looked over to his girlfriend. "Yeah, but George is also a 22-year-old and is 5'7," Y/n smiled. "George and Alex are like the same height," Will chuckled. "Yeah, well I wouldn't want to be Alex either," Y/n gave another shrug. "Okay, what do you think about George's thumbnails?" Will had closed out of the video, going back to George's posted videos. "Some of them remind me of Alex's thumbnails," Y/n cringed. "I just don't like them." "Do you like any of the boys?" Will let out a laugh. "Oh, of course. They're amazing. They're like family, I just don't watch their YouTube videos," Y/n quickly explained herself, glancing from her boyfriend to the camera. "Okay, but what do you think of the sidemen?" Will had cocked his head to the side. "Why Sidemen? That's literally the weirdest name for a group," Y/n did a playful eye roll. "I've never thought to myself, 'you know, if I had to name a group channel name, I'd name it Sidemen.' Like, are they the side hoes or something?" "You're amazing," Will laughed. "What are your thoughts on Inabber?" "I literally love Fraser, but his YouTube videos are just too long. I really don't want to watch a 20-minute video on Onision or Jake Paul," Y/n shook her head. Will let out another laugh. "This is why I love you." "Only because of my humor? Wow, you have low standards," Y/n rolled her eyes once more. "No, I didn't mean it like that," Will shook his head. "I know, babe. I'm messing with you," Y/n let out a laugh. "Are we done yet?" "Yeah, I'll text the boys and ask if they're ready to film,"  Will smiled, leaning in to give Y/n a kiss.

"Alright lads, I brought Y/n in for a bit," Will had grinned at his camera. He and the boys had just started filming a new video for the Eboys channel. "I had her react to a few of you lads." "Oh god..." James sighed. "I already know I'm gonna get it worst," Alex shook his head. "I think I'm gonna have to agree with that," Will grinned, followed by him letting out another laugh. "Anyways, let's start the video, don't we?" Will had shared his screen with his friends, hitting the play button. 'I don't know, they look like something a teenage tik toker would make when trying to start a YouTube channel,' Y/n finally spoke up on the video. Alex threw his hands up, "They're old videos!" Laughter could be heard coming from the boys. The video continued on, having Y/n to continue talking about Alex. 'Alex has gone through more hairstyle changes than I've changed my clothes.' "Now this is a low blow!" Alex shouted. "I think she's right," Will wiped a tear from his face. He had been laughing so hard tears had been brought to his eyes. "Of course you think she's right, Will. She's your girlfriend," Alex shook his head. "Is my turn done yet? Is she done roasting me?" "Yeah, yeah. I think so," Will nodded, unpausing the video on his monitor. 'I'm sorry, but if James keeps talking about Wonderwall, I'm going to lose my mind.' "Wonderwall's a good song!" James spoke in a defensive tone. "It's an easy song to play on the guitar!" 'I use to not care about the song. it's cool that James likes the song, but he talks about it so often. It's gotten so annoying.' "Oh, I'm sorry! I'll shut up about it when you come around, Y/n," James shook his head. "She's right, mate," George laughed. "You constantly talk about that song." "She's gonna roast you next, yet you're defending her?" James raised a brow. "Alright, I see how things are, George." "Oh wow, James got defensive quickly," Will grinned. 'He literally makes the same face in every thumbnail he puts his face in. The only difference is that he moves it around. Wannabe Sniperwolf, 3/10.' "Oh, c'mon! 3/10? At least I don't put the stupid red square behind me," James let out a laugh. "He gets defensive over a song, but his thumbnails he can laugh about," Alex laughed, throwing his head back. "Let's keep going, I think it'll be my turn next," George ushered Will to unpause the video once again. Will, obliged, and it hadn't taken long for George to pop up next. 'Listen, I know I'm short but at least I'm not George.' "Low blow, Y/n!" George practically shouted, shaking his head. The boys exploded into laughter like dynamite. 'George and Alex are like the same height,' Will had spoken over the video. 'Yeah, well I wouldn't want to be Alex either.' "Hey! It's not my turn anymore!" Alex threw his hands into the air for another time. 'Okay, what do you think about George's thumbnails?' Will continued to speak in the video. 'Some of them remind me of Alex's thumbnails,' Y/n cringed on the screen. 'I just don't like them.' "What do you like, Y/n?!" George snapped at his camera. "It doesn't seem to be any of us!" "Hold on, lads," Will grinned, standing up from his desk. "Where's Will going now?" Alex sighed. Will disappeared out of the room for a moment, only to come back in with his dear girlfriend, Y/n. "Hi boys!" Y/n laughed, coming closer to the video call. "Y/n, how could you say those things about us!" George shouted. "I'm sorry, I was trying to be funny for Will's video," Y/n sighed. "I love you guys, I really do!" "She just has dry as fuck humor," Alex sighed, rubbing his face. Y/n let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, guys. Yeah, I'm pretty dry I guess." "I genuinely think this was one of my favorite Eboys moments to film," Will kept a stupid grin on his face. "Of course it is for you, Will. Your girlfriend didn't roast your videos," James smiled. "I live with her, she roasts me on every little thing I do," Will chuckled, pulling Y/n into his lap. "I can confirm this is true," Y/n smiled with a nod. "You two are something else," Alex shook his head. "We know," Y/n continued to nod. "Anyways, Y/n you mind leaving us be so we can continue the video, love?" Will gave a peck to Y/n's cheek. Y/n gave a nod as she waved to the boys, beginning her exit. The boys had yelled obnoxious goodbyes behind her, only receiving another wave. Dry humor or not, Will adored his girlfriend.

The Eboys's new video had finally been posted, Will sat in his living room, scrolling through the comments of the video, looking for feedback. 'Y/n is iconic.' 'We want more Y/n! Her humor is awesome!' 'Y/n cult>Louis cult' "Hey love," Will called out, continuing to scroll through comments. "What's up?" Y/n replied, walking over to the couch Will sat on. "The fans love you," Will smiled. "Well, of course they do. I don't know how someone couldn't. They really love your humor though." "That's great," Y/n smiled, sitting down next to her boyfriend. Y/n read the comments as Will scrolled. "I can't believe how many people think I'm funny," Y/n giggled. "Oh, they don't think you're funny, they think how the boys are reacting is funny," Will smirked. "Oh, shut up," Y/n slapped a hand against Will's chest. "I'm sorry," Will laughed. "They think you're funny, I promise." "That's good," Y/n smiled, leaning her head against Will's shoulder. "You're truly funny, Y/n," Will looked down at his girlfriend. "I love your humor." "I know," Y/n looked up at her boyfriend. "I love your humor too."' "We're just two funny peas in a pod, aren't we?" "We really are," Y/n nodded. "Love you, Will." "Love you, Y/n."

Taglist:

@daddydobrock​

@anyasthoughts​

@multifandom-but​

[telli1206]

You’re So Fine, You Blow My Mind (Part 3)

Tourney player Jay is smitten with the new cheerleader, and Evie and Mal help get them together.

Click here for Part 1: Jay

Click here for Part 2: Mal

Part 3: Evie

Evie often wonders whether Jay will ever fall in love. Or at the very least, embrace the idea that love is a possiblilty for him. 

She’s bored and frustrated with the way he flits from girl to girl, flirting and kissing, leaving each one high and dry after, before emotions can be added to the mix. And it hurts her to see that there’s never any joy behind his eyes after every conquest.

What a waste of time.

But she can’t help feeling that maybe Jay acts like this to protect himself. To protect his heart from being hurt by anyone...else.

Jay knows what it’s like to desperately want love that he can never have, no matter how hard he tries. Evie and Mal know, too. It’s always come easily to them to just pretend that they don’t care about anyone, that they don’t really need to love, or be loved, to be happy.

But now, Evie has Mal. And she knows the truth about love, instead of the lies  that she’s tried to convince herself. 

Love is beautiful. And amazing. And unbelievable. And everyone should get the chance to be in love. 

Especially her friends.

That’s why, since coming to Auradon, she’s made it her mission to help, or rather, coax, matches for her friends and classmates. Only when she sees the potential there, of course. She doesn’t force anything! Or even find dates for other people. 

She’s just a...Love Supporter. Not a Matchmaker.

Which is why the way Jay looked at Carlos at lunch got her so excited. She has renewed hope for Jay, and she hasn’t felt that in a while. Hope for a chance at LOVE for him.

The possibility made her want to squeal on the spot in the courtyard, but Mal, firmly hooking a foot around her knee under the table, reminded her not to ruin the moment and scare Jay (or Carlos!) away. 

So Evie kept quiet and just watched. For now. 

The second Carlos had called it a “date,” Jay had been absolutely giddy. He parted ways to his next class with a stupid, wide grin plastered on his face and a little skip in his step. Mal had to squeeze Evie’s hand tightly and bury into her shoulder to fight back the snickers.

Evie rolled her eyes, sighing loudly at Mal. Here she was, about to burst with excitement for Jay, and her girlfriend is just being uncouth.

“Stop,” she hissed, tucking her nose into the purple hair nestled next to her cheek. “It’s not funny. It’s sweet. He’s happy, Mals!”

Mal took a shaky breath to settle her laughter, resting her chin on Evie’s shoulder to angle her face awkwardly towards her girlfriend.

“I know, I know. I am happy for him. But -” she starts to giggle again but is hushed by a sharp glare. “Ok! Just, give me some time to get used to it. Lovesick Jay is new, and...funny.” 

She bursts into another fit of laughter, leaving Evie shaking her head. She puts a hand to Mal’s cheek and turns her face back in to muffle her again. 

Evil, sometimes she wonders how she could love a girl that’s so clueless to the beauty of love.

-----

Evie decides to make a stop at Carlos’ room before meeting Jay to help him get ready for the date. Mal had been pretty adamant to leave them be, but Evie is Carlos’ friend too, so what’s the harm in dropping in to say hi?

And maybe, just maybe, the conversation could steer towards tonight. And, also maybe, she’d get to know how Carlos was feeling about, the date. And also, about Jay.

That’s not being nosy, she argued with Mal. That’s just being...friendly. And conversational.

She’s just a good friend, and she’ll make no excuses for that.

“Carlos!” She coos brightly as he opens the door. 

The thought of Jay going on a real date has made her a literal ball of sunshine for the last 24 hours, much to Mal’s dismay. Any attempt mask her cheerfulness in any way has failed completely.

“You look...” her joy does manage to fade a little when she drops her gaze, seeing that Carlos is wearing nothing but a tight pair of black, bike shorts?  “...different.”

Carlos giggles at her obvious scrutiny. “Hey Evie. Don’t worry, I’m just trying on a new pair of shorts for practice. I just needed to make sure they won’t ride up on me.” She notices then that he’s a little breathless, with tiny beads of sweat dotting his forehead. 

“Come on in,” he tells her, waving her inside as he walks back towards the bathroom, snatching a towel to dab at his face.

“Sorry. I just thought you’d be...getting ready? For your date.” She tilts her head, watching in confusion as he quickly taps off the music speaker on his desk.

He glances back at her, brows perked in surprise. “Really? I have two hours still, Evie. It’s not like I’m getting dressed up or anything. Jay and I are just, hanging out, right?” 

Evie hesitates, pursing her lips together in thought. This was a big deal for sure, especially in Jay’s eyes, but she didn’t want to risk sharing too much and potentially freaking Carlos out.

“Right,” she answers, slowly. “But, I just thought maybe you’d want a little help picking out an outfit? I’m sure you want to look, hot, right? For Jay?”

She holds in her breath as she watches him stare at her, blankly, but a relieved exhale quickly whooshes out when he smiles and nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, for sure. I can’t have him looking better than me, can I? And he could make a paper bag look sexy,” he comments with a waggle of his eyebrows. “You’re one of Jay’s best friends, right? You’d probably know best what he likes. Maybe we could pull something together that’d make him drool a little.” 

Evie giggles, gesturing towards his current outfit. “In that case, no need to change. He might not get the chance to drool if he sees you in that, though. He’d probably just pass out.”

Carlos laughs and shakes his head. “Where’s the fun in that? I’ll miss out on my cupcake if we don’t even make it out the door!”

Evie smiles as she walks towards his closet, pausing as she reaches for the handle.

“Well we wouldn’t want that. Let’s try for, subtle sexy, shall we? And maybe we’ll look for something in a dark color...so it won’t show chocolate stains.” she adds with a wink.

Carlos gives Evie a bright smile before he makes his way to the bathroom door, grabbing his towel.

“Perfect. Thanks Evie! Can you maybe pull out a few things you like while I hop in the shower? I’ll help decide when I’m out.” 

Evie hums gently in agreement as she opens his closet and starts sifting through shirts and jackets. By the time Carlos is out and dried off, she has no less than four outfit choices laid out for him, shoes and all. 

-----

Between the two of them, it takes only a few minutes to pick Carlos’ clothes for the night - dark skinny jeans with a fitted black shirt, topped with a white and red patchwork leather jacket that Evie assures him is just badass enough to impress Jay.

Satisfied with Carlos’ look, and his obvious eagerness for time with Jay, she offers her freckled friend a tight hug and wishes for a fun night, then continues on to Jay’s room to help him get ready, as promised.

When she gets to his room, Mal’s already there, laying on her back on Jay’s bed, trying to talk rationally with him as he brushes his hair in the mirror and huffs in frustration.

“Why can’t I make it look decent? I swear, can anything else go wrong today?” He slams his hand against the wall and pushes himself back, turning and stomping towards the bed, near Mal. 

She sighs loudly, an arm draped across her forehead. She turns her head his way when she hears him stop in front of her.

“What is it now? I already told you your hair looks good! And your clothes. Dammit, you look hot, Jay! Why are you pouting like a five year old?” Mal gripes, and points a finger sharply at Evie.

“Can you talk to him please? I can’t handle this. He keeps whining about how awful he looks.”

Evie giggles as she steps nearer to Jay, narrowing her eyes to examine him closely.

“Your hair looks good down, but let’s give it another good brush to make sure Carlos can run his fingers through it if he wants to, hmm?” She raises an eyebrow at Jay, who flushes a bright pink immediately at Evie’s suggestion. But the thought sends him running back to his brush, quickly pulling it through his locks, yanking at every knot he feels.

Evie smiles as she watches him, casting a boastful smirk to Mal, who is already noddng her approval to Evie.

A few of Jay’s shirts and vests lay strewn about his bed next to Mal, and Evie leans over to trace her fingers over them, pulling up a black sleeveless knit shirt.

“And why did we decide on sleeves? It’s warm out tonight, and you know your arms are one of your best features.” A wicked smile suddenly dances across her lips, and she throws Mal a wink.

“I mean, Carlos said you’d make a paper bag look sexy, but we can do better than that, don’t you think?”

Jay’s eyes blow wide with shock, and his jaw drops at Evie’s words. In a flash, he whips the shirt Evie’s holding out of her hands and marches determinedly to the bathroom to change, slamming the door shut behind him.

Mal’s smirking now, eyeing her girlfriend with newfound awe and respect.

“Damn, Princess. You sure know how to take charge of a situation.”

Evie crosses her arms, looking at the bathroom door with a pleased smile.

“That’s what the power of love can do, dear.” She quips, dipping down for a kiss as Mal tries to groan in annoyance.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 4 of 29)

         “Wake up, Gene. I made breakfast.”

           Rubbing his eyes, Gene still had to do a double take when he saw Paul. Back in a bathrobe, of course, although this time he at least had last night’s shirt underneath it. The bathrobe was different, too—this one was white and only hung down to his knees instead of his ankles.

           “Breakfast in bed? And here I thought the romantic schtick was you putting on.”

           “It is. Up.”

           Gene raised an eyebrow.

           “Up?”

           “It’s in the kitchen. I’m not bringing it to you.”

           Gene laughed but followed Paul out of his bedroom.

           He hadn’t made a fancy spread out of it. Several pieces of toast, some with cheese, and some crusted with butter and cinnamon-sugar, scrambled eggs, and a carton of milk were all that greeted him, but it was still a lot more than Gene had expected out of Paul, who tended to only eat cereal, if anything, early in the morning.

           “What’s the occasion?” Gene managed before digging in. Paul shrugged.

           “You’re putting up with a lot right now.”

           “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

           “Toast and eggs isn’t really cooking, Gene.” Another shrug. Paul frowned, and then untied the bathrobe and draped it across a chair, to Gene’s surprise. And disappointment. Underneath, he was still wearing both the shirt and boxers from last night. “Me and Julia had to fix our own food growing up.” He started to laugh, dryly. “Lots of T.V. dinners and frozen shit. It’s probably why I was so fat as a kid.”

           “Didn’t your mom—”

           “My mom’s a nurse. She was always working.” Paul picked one of the pieces of cheese toast off the plate, tearing off the crust as he spoke. He hadn’t sat down yet. “And my dad had his shop… he’s still got his shop, you know.”

           “Still?”

           “He said he didn’t want me taking his living away from him. He thinks we’ll go bust any day.” Paul’s mouth twisted, and he walked over to the trash can. “He was probably right.”

           “I’ll eat the crusts,” Gene said abruptly, when he realized Paul was about to toss them in. The wince that flashed across Paul’s face was just enough for him to backtrack, though Paul did hand over the crusts. “We’ll see the psychic today. We’ll get this taken care of.”

           “Is that your way of telling me to get dressed?”

           The dress Paul had said was in the washing machine was significantly shorter than the polka-dot number from yesterday.

           “Absolutely.”

--

           “What’d you tell the psychic, anyway?” Paul asked, as he pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose. He was driving again. They’d gotten an appointment for only an hour after breakfast. Just enough time for Paul to shower and for Gene to pull on his clothes from yesterday. Paul had halfheartedly offered his own clothes to Gene, but Gene, aware they wouldn’t fit, had turned him down. If he kept having to spend nights at Paul’s, he’d have to grab some of his own clothes from home and bring them back. He didn’t think Paul could tolerate him in the same outfit for days on end.

           “Oh, that I was Gene Simmons and my girlfriend thought I was cheating on her.”

           “Gene!”

           “Relax. I just told her I was coming in with a friend.”

           “Why did you tell her that?”

           “Easy. It’s a cheap litmus test.” Ace’s superstitious dabblings were probably the scant leftovers from his hippie days, for the most part, but the guy was pretty canny, in a certain way. Gene couldn’t quite see him falling for some run-of-the-mill swindler. “If she’s really a psychic, she should be able to figure out something’s wrong with you without being told.”

           “God, Gene, you make it sound like I’ve got leprosy.” Paul changed lanes, leaning in to get a better look at the street sign ahead. “I think this is the right road—lemme see that address again.”

           Gene unfolded the paper and held it up in front of Paul, who nodded.

           “You know what I meant, Paul.”

           “Still.”

           He pulled into the parking lot near the dilapidated building. Like Ace had said, it looked like she only had an office there. The paint on the window looked relatively new, at least, “Suzie’s Psychic Readings” in bubbly, neon-bright letters. They got out together, Paul tossing his keys and sunglasses to Gene, and went inside.

           It wasn’t quite as garish inside as Gene had feared. There was the smell of incense and patchouli, a beaded curtain, potted bamboo, and a cheap Oriental rug, but no stockpile of weird merchandise like crystals and Japanese trinkets. That was a little reassuring. A blonde girl in bellbottoms and braids rushed to greet them.

           “Mr. Simmons!”

           She stuck out her hand, and Gene shook it. Abruptly, Gene realized Paul wasn’t the only one who’d forgone a bra this morning. Her nipples were obvious beneath her thin peasant-style top.

           “I’m Suzie! Now why don’t you and your friend come on back? How would you like to start, is your interest in tarot-reading or more of an astrology bent—are you looking for guidance on—”

           “It’s actually more about my friend,” Gene said. “I’m just here for support.”

           “Are you?” Her grin widened. She held out her hand for Paul, too, who took it without enthusiasm. The girl jerked back as soon as she touched him, the smile fleeing her face. “What the—I-I’m sorry, you—” She was staring at him hard, eyes only briefly going to Gene’s face, almost in accusation. “Did you do this to him?”

           “What the hell? No! I’m trying to get him back to normal!”

           “He is,” Paul vouched. The excitement was clear on his face. “Gene, you said you didn’t tell her.”

           “I didn’t.”

           “Come on back,” Suzie said. She looked scared, almost. The perkiness had completely disappeared from her demeanor. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

           They followed her into the next room. This was laid out a little more like Gene had expected, a table covered by a heavy purple tablecloth that dragged the floor, decks of tarot cards, and star-covered curtains. She pushed the cards aside, waving them to take a seat and grabbing Paul’s hand as soon as they did, tracing her fingers across his palm.

           “You won’t mind if I skip the usual spiel, will you? You’re not here for me to tell you about your past or your future, you’re here to find out who did this. Aren’t you, Paul?”

           Gene made a mental note to thank Ace profusely. Just leading him to this girl was repayment for all those drunken fiascos on tour. He glanced over at Paul. He looked tense, but he nodded.

           “Yeah. Ace, he recommended you.” He swallowed. “I’ve been over it. I don’t think I’ve got an ex who’d do this.”

           “You don’t.” Flatly. “But you’ve slept with someone who would.”

           “A groupie, then? Was it the one who—sorry,” Paul said suddenly. “I’ll just let you tell me.”

           “I don’t know.” Her eyebrows were knitted together, and she was staring at Paul’s palm hard. She didn’t drop it for at least a minute. Gene was a little concerned that she was trying to go into a trance, or something weird like that, but then she looked up again. “I can’t break the curse. The best I can do is try to lead you to the one who did it. Do you have anything from before this happened? Anything you were wearing, or kept on your person?”

           “I’ve worn this dress before this happened,” Paul said bluntly. Suzie flushed. “What, won’t it count?”

           “Something more, ah, regular. Something you’re tied to.”

           Paul shook his head.

           “Like what? My rings don’t fit. I don’t carry a handkerchief. I didn’t bring my wallet. Shit, am I really going to have to go home and get something before you can help?”

           Gene reached over on impulse. Paul flinched slightly when he touched his hair, letting out a breath when Gene’s finger ran across his good ear, and the small gold hoop still dangling from the lobe.

           “Would this do?”

           Suzie brightened.

           “Yeah! The stronger the connection, the more likely I’ll be able to get a read.”

           “You get a read from objects?” Gene asked.

           “It’s psychometry,” Paul said, unscrewing the earring from the post and giving it to the girl. “It was probably on before; I always forget to take it off. Might as well be good for something besides getting caught in my hair.”

           “Perfect.” She rubbed the earring in her hand. Gene was almost offended on Paul’s behalf; the way she was rubbing it, it seemed like she was expecting the finish to come off on her hand, but then she closed her eyes. “Oh…”

           Gene waited, glancing at Paul intermittently. Paul was actually sweating, his focus totally on the psychic. Better to not disturb him. Gene’s glance sunk down—the black-on-floral dress hung to just below Paul’s knees when he was standing, but his posture while sitting meant it was riding up above his knees. He was getting a pretty good view of Paul’s legs (he’d shaven, even, probably out of habit from being on tour). Distracting as all hell, the long, uninterrupted line from the hem of the dress to Paul’s pumps, even though his ankle was hanging out of them. He swallowed, trying to force his attention away before Paul noticed. Luckily, Suzie started to speak again.

           “I can see a nightclub.”

           “Which nightclub? When?”

           “There’s letters…. C..B…”

           “CBGB? What the hell were you going over there for, Paul? That place is a dump!”

           “Shut up, Gene—”

           “She’s small. Brown hair and freckles. She’s—you’ve had her before, but you don’t know it.” The earring was still clenched in her hand. “She’s been wanting to hurt you since the last time you met.”

           “Why?”

           Suzie didn’t answer.

           “I see you in a hotel. She’s trying to get something of yours without being obvious. She starts tracing down your chest—”

           Oh, God. He was going to hear the play by play of Paul’s liaison. Not what he wanted to hear under any circumstances, but especially not now, with Paul sitting right next to him, in that body, hanging onto every word. Suzie was going redder than a tomato.

           “She’s the one that was pulling out my hair. Right?”

           “Y-yeah.”

           “Do you have a name? That’s what I want, more than anything.”

           “I…” Suzie hesitated. “I’m not… I’m not seeing that you asked for one.”

           “What?”

           “I… I just go off feelings, thoughts, sights. What was on her mind and yours. It’s like a movie. If it’s not in the scene, I-I can’t—”

           “What do you mean, it’s not in the scene! I slept with her! Can’t… can’t you trace her somehow? Suzie, I’ve got to track this girl down!”

           “Paul, I—”

           Gene’s brain felt like it was spinning in overdrive as he tried to think. Just a first name, all Paul might have ever asked for, wouldn’t have done him any good, anyway, but maybe—

           “Has—has she been to the club before? Is she a regular?”

           Suzie hesitated, then nodded. Paul tore his gaze away from Suzie to give him a look so gratified that Gene felt positively filthy for spending so long staring at his legs.

           “Does she know anyone there? Anyone working there? Or the bands—”

           “Her brother bartends. He—” She seemed to be concentrating again, opening her palm. She’d been holding the earring so tightly that the indents stood out red against the lines. Her other hand rested against her forehead. “I’m trying to see if she saw him there while you were with her. I… yes. He… he’s in his mid-twenties. Not tall. He’s starting to bald a little, so he combs over his hair.” She blinked several times in succession, and offered Paul his earring back. “That’s all I’m seeing. I’m sorry it’s not more than that.”

           “Don’t apologize. It’s a start.”

           “It’s more than a start,” Paul corrected. He took the earring, putting it back in. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

           “You don’t have to thank me. I just hope you find her.” Suzie stood up. “I’ve never seen anyone get cursed to such an extreme before. I don’t know that—” she stopped, and looked at Gene meaningfully. “Anyway, don’t thank me, but do pay me. And let me know if I can help again.”

           Begrudgingly, Gene pulled out his checkbook.

           “No telling Ace about this, right?”

           “I never tell my clients about each other.” She was considerably sunnier when Gene handed her the check. Almost back to the girl who’d greeted them so brightly. It worried Gene, her whole reaction. Obviously, people didn’t get their sex swapped on them on a regular basis, but all the caution, the wording… the way she’d cut herself off… he pursed his lips. Paul seemed more relieved than he was, which was the important thing. He clapped a hand on Paul’s back as she walked them out, trying to be reassuring. “Good luck, you two.”

           “I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Gene said as Paul started up the car. “I still can’t believe you were picking up chicks at that punk rock dive bar.”

           “I wasn’t only there to pick up chicks.” Paul smiled faintly. It was about the first time Gene had seen Paul come close to a real smile in two days. “The acts there remind me of us.”

           “Really?” There was nothing punk rock about KISS. The edge the band had started out with was getting whittled away with every outside writer and musician they brought in on the records. “How?”

           “When we first started. They’ve got to carry in their own equipment, they don’t have much of a setup. They get real wild. They’re having a lot of fun.” Paul turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Sometimes I think we’re losing that. I dunno how to get it back.”

           Gene knew what he meant. They couldn’t change their setlist on a whim anymore. The confetti and flashpots, the stunts, they were all timed. When the money was rolling in, he didn’t mind it, but if he allowed himself to think about it too long… something was getting too—manufactured, too predictable. He didn’t blame Paul for checking out the bizarre punk acts. It might be the inspiration they needed.

           “You’re not taking us back to your place, are you?”

           “Yeah.” Paul slowed to a stop at a red light. “We’ve got all day before we can try the club.”

           “We need to get some clothes first. You can’t go to CBGB in that outfit. Neither can I.”

           Paul hesitated.

           “We’d only be in there to find the girl.”

           “And it could take hours.” Or she might not even be there that night. “You’d stick out too much in that dress. It’s not punk at all.”

           Paul looked like he was about to argue, then he shook his head.

           “Okay, fine.”

[whiskynottea]

An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27,  Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35,  Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44,  Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47

AO3

@theministerskat , my Detroit airport and Ann Arbor specialist, thank you so much for your help!

Chapter 48. Closer

“Gimme a ticket for an airplane, I ain’t got time to take the fast train. Lonely days are gone – ”

“Lamb! Stop it!”

“What?” My uncle looked at me, with a most innocent face. “What’s wrong with The Box Tops? I’m trying to get you in the mood for your flight!”

“I am in the mood, I don’t need your singing to help me!” I huffed, looking out of the car window.

Will it be raining in Michigan, too?

Lamb was driving ridiculously slow, casually tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he sang, when all I could think of was reaching the airport and getting on the plane that would take me to Jamie.

Well, I wouldn’t get exactly on that plane.

The first plane would get me to London. Then a second one would whisk me across the Atlantic to Chicago. And finally, after a third flight from Chicago to Detroit, I would finally get to see my Scot. Really see him. Run my hands through his red hair. Smell the spices of his perfume. Tickle him until he would beg for mercy. Kiss him until there would be no breath left in his lungs.

In twenty-two hours I would be standing in front of him - if I could still stand. I would most likely crawl to him, unable to move after travelling for so many hours.

I didn’t care. I would be in Michigan.

Total flying time was almost twelve hours. Total time of the journey, twenty-two. Cheap flights. Not everyone can handle it - or so I was told by Lamb.

Scot: Have you arrived at the airport?

Sassenach: Almost. You know how Lamb drives.

Scot: Tomorrow you’ll be here, babe.

Sassenach: I wish I could just apparate.

Scot: You haven’t taken an Apparition Test.

Sassenach: Since when do Gryffindors care about rules?

Scot: It wouldn’t do to get you here splinched, wee Ravenclaw witch.

I choked back a laugh that made Lamb shoot me a questioning glance. “I haven’t seen you so happy since you got your letter from Oxford. Which was almost a month ago, if I remember correctly.”

“More than a month,” I murmured. In retrospect, it seemed even longer.

The first day or two, I had spent the majority of my time on Google maps, mentally strolling around  Oxford via computer screen. Then, I caught up with a few TV shows Jenny and Joe had been raving about. I read books that had nothing to do with human anatomy and physiology and enjoyed staying at home, a cup of tea and a hardcover in my lap, the rain pelting down on the living room windows.

Joe and Gail had left for New York, their semester starting when Jamie’s had. Jenny and Ian remained in Beauly after the summer had ended. They had both accepted their offers to the University of Edinburgh and they would come back in September, which was exactly when I would be leaving for Oxford. Jenny and I talked almost every day, but I missed having everyone in close proximity. It felt as though I had been left behind.

The flight to London was less than two hours and I had resolved myself to watching a movie, when the tiny lady sitting next to me started talking. I smiled politely and nodded more times than I could count, and kept making attempts to insert my headphones while I silently prayed that she would get the message. She didn’t. Her son was graduating and then getting married and “Oh ye can imagine, dearie, how many things remain to be done!” Even if I couldn’t imagine, I didn’t need to. By the end of our journey, she had listed and analyzed them all, pausing only once or twice. Most probably to breathe, I had thought. Her enthusiasm made me smile. Her nasal voice, however, made my head buzz by the time we arrived at Heathrow. Mrs Macallan - “Like the whisky, ye ken?” - was sweet and kind hearted, but I felt lucky to be getting away from her on my next flight.

After retrieving my oversized rucksack, and bidding her farewell, I walked around the airport, absentmindedly looking at window displays and testing several perfumes. Finally, bored and tired, I searched for a quiet place to sit.

Sassenach: Seven more hours in Heathrow.

Scot: In thirteen hours I will kiss the hell out of you.

Sassenach: Oh really?

Scot: Yes. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Sassenach: Me or the kissing?

Scot: Both.

Sassenach: Hmm where are you?

Scot: Just finished up at the pool. We’re going to a place called “Fraser’s Pub”!

Sassenach: So you’re already THAT famous there?

Scot: Aye, restaurants open in my honor. I can’t help it Sassenach.

Sassenach: Snob.

Scot: Oh, is that you Ms. ‘I’m studying at Oxford, you common peasants’?

Sassenach: Ass.

Scot: THIRTEEN HOURS!!

Sassenach: Twelve and forty-five minutes 😛

Scot: I love you, got to go, the guys have started making fun of me. Ttyl?

Sassenach: Okay. I’ll be right here.

A ridiculous picture followed right after that, with Jamie’s lips so close to the camera I could hardly recognize them. Then another one, with him and John smiling broadly, heads bent together. I sent him a picture of me cuddled up next to my huge grey and purple rucksack and then tried to get as comfortable as possible, determined to get some sleep.

It seemed I was one of those people who can sleep wherever and whenever they want, not allowing anything to disturb them. Not the endless amount of people passing by, not their phone ringing, not even announcements calling their name.

When I opened my eyes, my phone had fifteen unanswered calls, nineteen unread messages, and two missed alarms. The most terrifying of all, however, was the time.

I had ten minutes to be at my gate and I didn’t even know which gate I was supposed to be at.

I picked up my bag, hoisted it unceremoniously over my shoulder and started running.

I had struggled to sleep the last two nights, the excitement of visiting Jamie making dozing off an impossible task. And now that I had a plane to catch, I fell asleep in the airport, and slept for more than six hours!

Seriously, now?

I was the last person through the boarding gate and I was the only one who went through it gasping for breath. When I finally took my seat, I checked my phone. All the missed calls and messages were from Jamie, all saying pretty much the same thing.

Where are you?!

Sassenach: Just got on the plane. OMG THAT WAS SO CLOSE! I almost missed my flight. I can actually hear my heart beating inside my chest.

Jamie replied immediately.

Scot: You scared the shit out of me, do you know that? First, I was afraid that you’d miss the flight, then I was terrified that something happened to you.

Sassenach: I’m sorry. 😞

Scot: You better be.

Sassenach: I didn’t do it on purpose!

I quickly calculated the time in Ann Arbor.

Sassenach: Are you still out?

Scot: No.

Sassenach: You’re at home? Still awake?

Scot: Yes, guess why! Because my girlfriend is crazy, and she sleeps in airports like the dead!

I saw the three dots appear, then stop. My heart thumped inside my chest.

Scot: You just scared me, is all. It took all the nerve I had to stop pacing back and forth in the room, and that’s mostly because I woke John up at least three times. I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.

Sassenach: I’m okay. I’m sorry I scared you so. I love you. gtg! Plane taking off. ❤️❤️

Scot: I will kill you when you arrive. Even before kissing you.

Sassenach: That will make a fool of you. You’ll miss my kissing you back.

I spent my time during the flight watching movies and sleeping. No one talked to me, apart from the stewardess with the impossibly perfect makeup, who came passing by every ten minutes with coffee or tea, food, more coffee or tea …

I only had an hour layover at O’Hare International Airport and I didn’t even stop to look around. One last flight - and a short one, at that.

One hour later I landed at Detroit Metro, murmuring continuously, “I’m here, oh my God, I’m here!”

My whole body ached from sitting for so long, and walking felt like an exotic exercise. I had been right in that I would be crawling once I got here.

But then, I wasn’t. I rushed off the plane and pushed my way to the tram, jumping into a car just before the doors closed. I followed the flow of the other passengers, feeling like herded cattle, and took the escalator down to the arrivals area.

The moment the escalator brought me low enough to see out across the great open space of baggage claim I saw him standing there, tall and beautiful, waiting for me. I felt a huge smile spread across my face and mentally urged the people in front of me to move faster. Finally, a kind of magic seeped into my muscles, pushing me forward, and the only thing I could do was run to him.

I dropped my bag just before I reached him and a moment later I was jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs around his body, relying on his strength to support my weight.

A crushing hug. And then we were kissing as if we were the only people in the whole terminal. Fierce and consuming, it was a kiss that tried to make up for all the lost ones, all those we had been sending to each other during the last month, vanishing somewhere in the space between us.

But this kiss was real and hot and powerful, filling our hearts with blood again, after more than a month when distance made their beating dull, normal.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re finally here,” he added, echoing my thoughts. “I missed touching ye, Sassenach. My arms always feel so empty without ye in them.”

I looked at him for a long moment, my throat too tight to talk.

“Come,” he said, and bent to pick up my rucksack. “We’ve a bus to catch.”

His hand was warm when he took mine and we walked together towards the shuttle pickup area. It was silly, but even walking next to him felt different. As if I couldn’t discipline my feet and each step would be the first to start a dance.

We sat in the second to last row of the bus, desperate for some privacy. His hand perched on the inside of my thigh, drawing abstract lines that were driving me crazy. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, trying to be decent, but five minutes later I was biting and sucking his neck until I felt him shiver.

“What are the plans for today?” I asked, my voice low.

“Today we’re going back to my dorm and we’re not leaving the room at all.” He shot me a naughty glance, implying that I knew exactly what was going to happen in his room.

“What about John?” I asked, frowning.

“He won’t come back tonight.” Jamie’s owlish wink and the sly grin that followed suggested that he had taken care of everything.

“I’ve turned everything upside-down for him. Trust me to make a bad first impression.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. Ye’re doing John a favour,” Jamie said, his lip curling up as he looked out of the window.

“What do you mean?”

“Ye gave John the perfect excuse to stay over at another guy’s place. He’s on the team, too. And I think John was waiting for an opportunity to stay alone with Hector since the first time he saw him. He hasn’t admitted it yet, but I’ve seen the way he looks at him.”

“John is gay?” I asked when he finally finished. “You haven’t said anything!”

“What was I supposed to say, Sassenach? ‘Claire, let me introduce ye to my gay roommate?’”

“Well, no, but… Anyway. And how about Hector? Do you think that he returns John’s feelings?”

“He’ll be a fool if he doesna. John is amazing. It’d be like you giving me your number and I never calling you. Impossible.”

I laughed at that, shaking my head. My curls escaped from my unruly bun, but I didn’t care. Jamie liked them down. “Yeah, right. That being said by someone totally unbiased.”

He looked out at the winter landscape for a moment. Then, his eyes were back on me and he let out a long sigh. “I’m so happy ye’re here, mo chridhe.” He squeezed my hand and bent his head to kiss me.

I couldn’t get enough of his lips.

We got off of the bus and walked quickly towards his dorm, partly because we ached to be finally alone and partly because it was freezing cold outside.

“Why did you have to come here?” I asked, feeling my nose go Rudolf-red. “Hawaii is one of the States, too.”

“Oh, excuse me Sassenach for not getting a scholarship somewhere sunny!” Jamie smiled and pulled his beanie lower, to cover as much skin as possible.

“It would be a nice change to Edinburgh,” I murmured. He just squeezed me closer to his body.

As we walked, I was fascinated by how much of the campus was woven seamlessly into the city itself. Just off the main streets that were filled with restaurants and shops, were smaller homes all in a line, and then suddenly a university building would pop up with a distinctive blue and yellow sign out front.

We didn’t stop walking fast once we pushed through the entrance doors of Jamie’s dorm. He rushed me across the lobby to the elevators, only this time I was almost sure he was moving quickly as not to be stalled by any fellow Wolverines looking for greetings and introductions.

We reached his room unnoticed. Jamie tossed my rucksack into a corner and closed the door softly behind me. I stood still, looking at the room.

His place.

It wasn’t big, and the beds and two desks made it seem even smaller. But it was cozy and clean, and had something of him that made me feel comfortable. I turned to look at Jamie, and for the first time in a month, I felt like I was home.

“I missed you, you bloody Scot.” My whisper was more than a confession. It was the profession of the gift I had been bestowed. The gift of having him in my life. Of having a home.

“I missed ye too.” He smiled in his crooked way, the way I had fallen in love with. “More than ye’d ever imagine.”

And then his lips were on mine, tender and honest. The connection we had longed for, when all we could do was rely on a screen to see each other. Now, we could feel. Our love was tangible, filling the room as our breaths mingled, as our hands intertwined, as our hearts beat together, their own song.

It didn’t take long for our kiss to turn wild.

Jamie shed the outer layers of my clothing, murmuring that I was a wee onion or something. I smiled and helped him, taking off some of his own clothes as well. It was when his hand found its way underneath my sweater that I yelped.

“Cold! Freezing hands!” He looked at me with a pout that wasn’t nearly cute enough to make me relent. “Don’t even think about it!” I said, pushing against his chest with a pointed index finger.

Jamie laughed and swiftly took me off my feet, eliciting yet another yelp from me. He lay me carefully on his bed and took off my sweater.

“No hands,” he promised, raising them in the air as he bent to kiss my neck. His lips moved to my chest, teeth softly biting my nipples, and I slightly regretted keeping his hands off the game. I needed him to touch me.

I squirmed beneath him, making my intentions obvious.

“Oh, no,” Jamie said, sucking my breast in a way I was sure would leave a hickie. “I spent so much time this past month telling ye what I was planning to do to ye when I’d have ye close again. So much time, seeing ye touching yerself and wishing it would be my hand instead of yers. I mean to take my time, mo nighean donn.”

A soft bite and a wicked grin. His eyes burned in mine.

“I mean to lick ye, kiss ye, taunt ye, feel yer smooth skin against mine and leave my marks on ye. I mean to hear yer moans and whimpers fill the room. And then, Sassenach,” he paused for effect, and I ground myself against him. We were both ready. And all the talking during our video calls didn’t go to waste, after all. “Then, I mean to fuck ye and feel ye fucking me until we canna move our limbs anymore.”

Everything went according to the plan.

Chapter 49

[imaginarydaydreams]

Quest Start!: Be My Player 2?

Fandom: Mystic Messenger Pairing: Yoosung x MC Date Written: 3/2/19 Thoughts: My piece for the @yoosungkimzine! I still am so honored to have worked on this project to show my first Mysme love all the love and praise he deserves! Thank you to the team for having me on board and special thank you to @byebi for being my collab partner!  If you get the game refs I used, I will come to your house and personally thank you.

The first indication of something going on had been about a week ago. “Yoosung, what are you working on, honey?” Normally, her questions would illicit an excited response from her boyfriend, him leading her by the arm and into his lap as she watched him work. However, this time was different. “MC! It’s not what you think!” Yoosung swiveled around in his chair, hands raised to cover the contents of the screen. His face sported a beautiful red blush while his eyes darted back and forth, as if caught doing something bad.

She tried to peer at the screen, but every time she tilted her head, he just shifted his entire body into her line of sight, face reddening with each movement. A smile worked its way onto MC’s face. He was just as much of a dork as he was when she first met him. “Oh? Is that so?” She said, teasingly. “Is that why you keep blocking the screen? Or is your red face just a side effect of me being here?” She laughed at the choked noise he gave, relishing in how easy it was to get under his skin. “No, I swear it’s nothing!” He kept his guard up as he continued to block the screen, but the tension in his body relaxed slightly. “I swear it’s nothing, but this game…it’s a super secret project that I’m not allowed to show just yet. Company orders, and they were extremely strict this time about it. Sorry, MC.”  Yoosung gave a sheepish smile, cheeks growing redder by the minute. “But hopefully I’m able to show you one day! Just…not today.” MC paused, eyes scanning his features before she sighed, giving him a soft smile. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll let you off the hook. But don’t overwork yourself, okay? I know you have that habit sometimes!” She turned towards the door, taking one last look at his figure—his back was already turned towards her to face his computer—before walking to the kitchen to fix the both of them a meal for later. Perhaps by dinnertime, she could weasel some information out of him. Now, if this was a one time instance, she would have understood. Sometimes the industry needed to keep certain projects under wraps and Yoosung’s indie dev company was no exceptions. But even then, Yoosung wasn’t the best at keeping secrets and would usually break after a day or two, excitedly rambling about the newest game system or the cool concept designs that they were working on. But instead, he was quiet. Whenever she would come home from the store or her job, she would only hear the tapping of keys accompanied by small mutterings; Yoosung would still be sitting at his desk, furiously typing away at the keyboard. Her eyes would wander to the small glimpses of the screen, only making out a vaguely pixel-y style, but that was about it. Yoosung’s mess of blond hair managed to block out any other details. The few times that she did bother him, he would always seize up, immediately jumping from his seat to cover the screen as his face flushed various shades of red. He would give her the same excuse as well—“Sorry, MC, I really wish I could tell you but I’m sworn under contract. But I’ll show you one day!”—going back to his work as usual, the typing of keyboard resounding as if nothing had transpired. Other times, she would overhear a few snippets of phone calls, most likely from his team. The words ‘game,’ ‘quests,’ and ‘girlfriend’ were thrown in there every now and then, but without context, they remained vague and only increased her curiosity. This strange behavior and turn of events continued on for a few days, now becoming routine. Worry ran through her mind with each day that he spent locked up in his office, not bothering to come out even for food or drink, or even to use the bathroom. Was he really okay? What was so important about this project that he would openly neglect his health, or even his own girlfriend? MC’s mind was running with this single thought one day as she walked through the door, groceries in hand. She had went out earlier to buy some special ingredients for a nice dinner, hoping that it would help Yoosung relax and perhaps open up some type of conversation. After all, she had missed him during his week-long isolation. She wasn’t even halfway through the door when she heard the sound of loud footsteps approaching before she was enveloped in a warm hug. Soft strands of blond hair tickled her cheek. “Honey, I’m so glad you’re home! But we don’t have time to talk, I want to show you something!” Before she even had the chance to lean into his touch or even ask him how his day was, the groceries were pried from her hands and hurriedly set on the counter. She felt him grab her wrists gently, pulling her along and down the hall of their shared apartment, towards his office. She only looked at him with a bewildered expression but not once did he look back, instead guiding her to the computer and gesturing for her to sit. Once she was comfortable, he moved to lean over the back, hands placed softly on her shoulders. “Yoosung,” she asked carefully, “what’s going on..?” He only smiled before leaning over the backrest to place a kiss on her cheek. “Remember the game I was working on but couldn’t show you?” He said, motioning towards the screen. “Well, it’s finally finished and we need a beta tester. I thought you’d be perfect for the job! So go ahead, start it up and tell me what you think!” Her gaze turned back to the screen and the blatant icon, a simple green heart backed by a star, in the middle of the monitor. Under the icon were the words ‘8-Bit Love Starry.’ Her eyebrows furrowed at the title; however, curiosity finally got the best of her as she hovered the mouse and clicked on the icon once, twice. The splash screen appeared, showing the familiar logo of his dev company, before moving into the title screen. It seemed like a simple RPG game. The cheerful tunes of a music box greeted her at start-up, one that brought a smile to her face when she recognized the song as their personal melody. She was greeted with swirls of purple and indigo that filled the entire screen, tiny golden stars dotting the sea of colors and twinkling throughout. Words soon filled the sky, spelling out the title. But what caught her attention were the two pixel figures that were floating through the pixel night sky. They were waving at her, beaming with bright smiles, but it was their appearances that caught her off-guard. The boy had familiar blond hair, cut short and swept to one side while red glasses framed his violet eyes. Meanwhile, the girl’s long brown locks framed a delicate face, honey eyes looking at her sweetly. “Yoosung, sweetheart—“ the laughter was evident in her voice— “are those who I think they are?” “I have no idea who you’re talking about,” he said, his smile leaking through his words, “but that’s not important right now; go ahead and start playing, sweetie! I need that feedback as soon as possible!” She waved away the hands that lingered on her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’m starting it!” With a hand on the keyboard, she pressed enter, humming along to the cheerful tune of the start screen. Instantly, she was met with a pastel apartment layout and the energetic bounce of the main character, front and center in the screen. A little blue text box popped up at the bottom with the following message: [☆Quest One!: Go to work!☆] “What is this, Yoosung?” MC looked over her shoulder in confusion; the game just immediately started, no tutorial, no commands. Just straight up threw her into the thick of things. But she was only met with that bright smile of his, the one he used when he was definitely hiding something from her. “It’s just a simple quest game,” he said, smile never wavering. “The commands are your standard arrow keys, and to interact with things, just press enter.” “Okay…” she said slowly, moving the character towards what seemed to be the exit. “That still didn’t answer my question, but okay.” “Trust me. Just play and tell me what you think after. There’s a surprise at the end, so it’ll all be worth it!” She gave him one more dubious look before turning her attention back to the game. She had to admit, it was really cute. The pixel art gave her nostalgia of past games that she and Yoosung would play together in their spare times—especially with the fetch quests. It really reminded her of this one game that she really enjoyed…but she would ask him later about it. The game itself was simple enough. The quests consisted of easy tasks—‘Leave the apartment’, ‘go to the park’, ‘check out the shops.’ The routine cycle kept continuing that, every so often, she would ask Yoosung if the game would end. But he would just give her that placid smile of his and tell her to keep playing, promising reward at the end. So she continued on, waiting for something to change—which would hopefully be soon. It wasn’t until four days in-game passed that she noticed a different message box that popped up, indicated by the bright cherry red: [☆Important Quest!: Go to…☆] “‘The strange apartment’…Rika’s apartment?” The puzzlement was evident on her face, turning to look at her boyfriend for any explanation. But he still refused to give her one, just going over to give her a kiss on the cheek and encouraging her to keep playing. Something still didn’t sit well with her.  However, despite the uneasy feeling, she continued to keep playing and navigated her little character through the streets of Seoul and to the familiar apartment that set in motion everything. The game continued as normal, but this time, she was stuck in the apartment; most of the quests had changed to things like ‘Talk to the RFA’ or ‘Answer Guest Emails.’ With each in-game day, she felt more and more nostalgia as the events of those eleven days replayed before her in pixel format, right down to the RFA party where she had met the now love of her life. And even then, the game continued. This time, her character was accompanied by a little blond pixel doppelgänger—“You’re still so adorable, even in pixel form,” she teased, receiving a blush in return—the tasks going back to a sense of normalcy of ‘Meet with Yoosung’ or ‘Go on a date with Yoosung.’ Her attention caught on one of the days when a new message box in red appeared: [☆Important Quest!: Follow Yoosung ☆] She did as she was told, following the blond sprite out the door and towards a pixel car modeled after a very familiar blue car. As the scenery passed them by, she could see the remnants of sunlight beginning to dwindle, the soft hues of sunset painting everything in warm colors. “Am I near the end of the game yet?” “Yep, just keep going. Your reward is almost there.” She merely hummed, eyes focused on the screen as she watched the pixel car drive out into the little countryside, past the city lights as twinkling stars lit up the night sky. MC was amazed—if she had anything to say about the game, it was that the art style was definitely well-done. It was then that the car stopped along the side of a park, the mini MC and Yoosung leaving before setting up a picnic on the grass. Even without voice overs, she could see the little hearts above the both of them, the cheerful melodies indicating laughter. But then as they seemed about to leave, Mini MC standing up from her position to walk towards the car, Mini Yoosung grabbed at her arm. Confusion crossed MC’s features as she looked on with rapt interest, watching as Mini Yoosung dropped to one knee in front of Mini MC. A dark blue text box popped up at the bottom: [☆Final Quest!: …Turn around, MC.☆] Her eyebrows furrowed at the sudden direct command, but she complied, turning to Yoosung to ask him a question when she noticed that he wasn’t to her immediate right like he had been a few moments before. No, instead, he was kneeling before her as his hands held out a small box. Embedded in velvet was a small ring, the silver band encrusted with tiny star-like diamonds framing the large center emerald. A dark blush dusted his cheeks, his eyes downcast and if she looked closer, she could see the slight shake of his hands as he held out the box to her. Well, she would be able to see, if the tears in her eyes hadn’t been obscuring her vision. “I know this probably seems so convoluted,” Yoosung began, “but I felt that I would stumble on my words the whole time. So I thought a game would better convey my words. Sorry.” He slowly stood from his position, shifting the ring box to one hand and holding out the other for her to take. Her fingers intertwined with his and he pulled her up from her seat, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She could feel the faint chill of drops on the fabric of her shirt; sure enough, when he pulled away, his violet eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “MC, you’ve been by me this whole time, probably longer than anyone in my life outside of my family. When we first met, I was alone, grieving—just overall a mess without any direction or stability who didn’t know what kind of life I wanted to lead anymore. “But you…you helped me, encouraged me, showed me that I still had a future worth looking forward to. And even now, you shower me with your continuous love and patience—something that I feel like I take for granted at times.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, hands tightening around hers before he looked at her with a determined expression. “It took me a long while to figure out what I’ve wanted to do with my life. Everything in my life’s changed at least once, but your presence is something I never want to change.” The hand holding the ring moved, raising the box between them.  “So, MC, the love of my life, my one and only…would you do me the honor of becoming my first and only love for the rest of my life? Will you marry me?” Yoosung waited with bated breath for her answer, heart near pounding out of his chest. He was pretty sure he was almost close to dropping the ring from how sweaty his palms were. But from the wobbly smile on his love’s face as she practically tackled him to the floor, attacking him with kisses in between her sobs, he knew without a doubt. He would get his video game ending with his cherished princess.

[lets-talk-appella]

2018 Fic Roundup

I was tagged by @aliciameade​ and @acabellas​, so thanks for that you two! Okay actually this was loads of fun to do because I’ve only been writing fic since like April/May so here we go:

Total 2018 Word Count: 206,438 - not gonna lie, pretty proud of that

Total 2018 Hits: 33,768 on AO3. No idea on FFN because the website won’t tell me

Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 1921 Comment Threads: 177 Bookmarks: 218 Subscriptions: 121

Links & Titles to 2018 Works: There are 30 - literally everything I’ve done has been this year - so I put a break.

Four Sambucas - 987 words, Not rated Beca is the DJ at a popular club and she's just doing her thing when an incredibly drunk Chloe confuses her with the bartender.

Jealousy’s a Bitch... or Maybe it’s Just the German - 15,171 words, G All Beca/Kommissar interactions in PP2 (plus some additional content) as told from Chloe’s POV. Basically, an extremely jealous Chloe Beale. Largely cannon, but I added some things in the middle and at the end. Part of a series, but can stand alone. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #1

Just a Joke? - 1,316 words, G When Jesse says something serious to Beca, meaning it as a joke, she freaks out and goes to the one person she can open up to: Chloe. Part of a series, but can stand alone. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #2

Chloe’s Secret - 7,364, G Chloe needs to know why Jesse broke up with Beca, so she secretly goes to LA to confront him for hurting her best friend. Takes place about five months after PP2 and is part of a series, but can stand alone. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #3

That’s When She Knew - 4,214, G In which Beca finally wakes up to realize that she’s been in love with Chloe this entire time. Much fluff ahead, enter at your own risk. Takes place just under a year after graduation/Worlds/PP2. Part of a series, but can stand alone. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #4

Expectations - 7,801, T The immediate follow up to That’s When She Knew (this will make more sense if you read that first), in which Beca and Chloe finally admit their feelings to one another. After leaving Central Park, they go back to their apartment and Beca believes that Chloe seems to have some… expectations of where things should be headed next. Of course, she panics. Part of a series. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #5

Spooning Looks Easier in the Movies - 2,716, G Sure, they’d decided to wait before getting really intimate together in their new relationship. That doesn’t keep Beca from being a little awkward about sharing the bed for the first time since they’ve told each other about their feelings. Part of a series. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #6

Reality - 23,703 (listen I got excited), M Continuing the series and following the established Bechloe line, this follows Beca and Chloe as they figure out life as a new couple. Specifically, how they prepare for their first time. Smut, but more in a making love way. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #7

Accidents Happen - 1,892, G A different take on the Activities Fair from Beca's freshman year. Or, Bechloe Week 2018 day 1 - prompt "accidental kiss."

The Underwear Incident - 3,967, Not Rated Beca Mitchell is one of the most famous music artists in America. She gets a lot of attention from her fans, which occasionally makes Chloe a little jealous... established Bechloe. For Bechloe Week Day 2 - Jealousy.

Don’t Touch Her - 3,504, T Getting drunk texts from Chloe is nothing new for Beca. However, when the messages become alarming, Beca races into action. Part of Bechloe Week Day Three - Drunk Texting.

How to Break Beca Mitchell with Six Words - 473, G Submission for Bechloe Week Day Four - Why. Angst ahead. Read at your own risk.

The Eight Times Aubrey Posen Had to Ask Why - 7,482, T Aubrey prides herself on knowing her best friend, so to suddenly not know what Chloe's thinking is alarming to say the least. Or, the times Aubrey was confused about Bechloe's relationship and had to ask about it. Alternate Bechloe Week Day Four - Why.

Five Minutes - 2,661, G Beca and Jesse have gone on a road trip meant to seal their future together, leaving Chloe devastated. She gives up entirely, hiding away from the world... but then, there's a knock on the door. For Bechloe Week 2018 - Road Trip.

Sealing the Crack - 2,215, G When Chloe's valuable good luck charm breaks in an accident, Beca is there to pick up the pieces. For Bechloe Week Day Six - Good Luck Charm.

Come Home to Me - 10,377, T Chloe dishes herself out some of the pasta, being sure to save a good amount for Beca. She chases it around her plate with her fork, suddenly not feeling particularly hungry. She finds herself glancing out the window at their empty driveway with increasing frequency. Beca really should have been home by now.

Amy’s Limit - 2,461, G This came from Tumblr Prompt - "Stop being so cute," but I decided to add it to the series because I thought it fit well. This follows the events of "Reality," and is established Bechloe. Told from Amy's POV. Pure fluff and horrible pick-up likes ahead, read at your own risk. “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #8

Fallen Leaves, Fallen Bellas - 35,086, T “It’s not true, though,” Chloe’s voice jarred them from their thoughts. “I mean, it can’t be. Ghosts aren’t real, and they definitely don’t kill people. You made that up to scare us, right?” she asked Aubrey, smiling uncertainly. Aubrey didn’t smile back. Or, a horror-themed twist on the Lodge at Fallen Leaves. Originally for Pitch Perfect Horror Week 2018.

Restless Nights - 5,706, M Prompt: "If you can't sleep... we could have sex?"

I Want to See You be Brave - 3,065, G Prompt: "I'm your lock screen?!" "You weren't supposed to see that." For this one, I did an alternate version of the "Confession Scene" following the fight for the pitch pipe in PP1. Enjoy!

Naked Mole Rats Aren’t Endangered - 4,052, G Based on Tumblr prompt - "That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” - “Well, kiss me so they see.” Honestly a little ridiculous.

Black Sabbath - 4,783, T For Tumblr prompt "Don't do that again! You scared the shit out of me!" This is set during Beca's junior year, meaning that Emily isn't here, sadly. Enjoy!

Dangerous - 5,307, M A spin-off on the last motorcycle prompt. This is pure smut, actually no plot whatsoever but with the added motorcycle imagery from the last chapter. So, yeah. If you don't want to taint the motorcycle fic, look away now! I also want to give a shout-out to Redlance's excellent A Moment's Reprieve fic, which inspired part of this. Um, pretty NSFW stuff ahead.

The 12 Times They Said, “Stay Awake” - 10,347, T Based on Tumblr prompt "Stay awake." I low-key forgot about PP3, so ignore that. Also, if you don't want your heart torn out, stop after segment 11. Also, warning for character death. Sorry about that.

Area 51, Now in Barden - 1,555, G For Pitch Perfect Horror Week Day 5 - Alien Abduction Listen. Don't take this too seriously, because I definitely didn't.

Friday the 12th - 5,649, T For Pitch Perfect Horror Week Day 6 - Fears Come to Life. It's set sometime between PP1 and PP2, and is definitely cannon-divergent.

Shine Bright (Like Cubic Zirconia) - 10,015, E Created for Tumblr prompt "The diamond on your engagement ring is fake." Contains a lap dance and smut, so if you're not a fan, I'd skip this one. Also, the French was an idea stolen from Tumblr user isthemusictoblame (who also goes by iPhone on here).

Make Me (Where Dreams Come True) - 15,629, E Beca doesn't want to dress as a Disney princess for Halloween. But it's all Chloe's idea, and Beca will do just about anything for her girlfriend, especially when Chloe bribes her... Smut. For Bechloe Week Day 7 - Disney. So, yes. Disney-related smut. And a second chapter for the strap.

Winter Dreams (Beca’s Song) - 3,441, G "The touch brings memories of the night before, of needy kisses, of soft whimpers and sharp gasps, of lips pressed to bare skin, and of limbs tangled together; memories that make Chloe’s body heat up and heart beat faster in her chest. She stretches out her limbs slowly and takes another deep breath. The touch on her back pauses, and Chloe cracks open her eyes a millimeter to see Beca – propped up on an elbow, like she’d imagined – watching her, deep blue eyes heavy with sleep and a tenderness that makes Chloe’s chest ache. Beca’s hair sticks up in weird places and a small purple mark dots her porcelain skin just below her collarbone, a proud remnant of the night before. She’s absolutely perfect." “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series #9

Real Hot Wings and Fake Hot Dates - 3,566, G “Hey, it’s okay,” Aubrey says with surprising gentility. “I’m a little nervous, too.” That makes Beca turn back to her in shock. “You are?” Aubrey nods and says, “Of course. If they figure us out, we’re not gonna get that discount.” Mitchsen fake dating fluff as a Pitchmas 2018 gift.

Favorite Fic: Yikes, mate, asking the hard questions. Probably Expectations, because that’s the idea that started literally everything else - without it, I wouldn’t be a fic author. Otherwise, Chloe’s Secret, Naked Mole Rats Aren’t Endangered, Friday the 12th, Stay Awake, or Winter Dreams.

Hardest Fic: Honestly, anything with smut. I have such a hard time writing smut. And, currently, planning my Beca Sexuality fic (more on that in 2019!).

Do you plan on taking prompts in 2019? Tentatively yes! I love doing dialogue prompts the most, because they give me room to play. I do still have 12 prompts in my inbox, some of which are from like August, so, yeah... I’m gonna do those first.

What was the best thing about 2018? Honestly, just discovering this fandom and starting to write this much. I’ve always enjoyed writing, but writing fic like this took me to a whole new level. I’ve loved it more than I can say, and I feel like I’ve gradually been becoming a better writer because of it.

What was the worst thing about 2018? As for fics? Maybe... not enough time to write? Or just pressuring myself to churn out fics more quickly than I was really able to with classes/life.

Any last thoughts for 2018? I’m gonna miss the 20gayteen references, tbh, but make room for 20biteen! Also where’s the Bechloe kiss?

Goals for 2019:

Complete and post a fic where Beca struggles with her sexuality. I’ve got a ROUGH outline and all flashbacks written!

Finish my inbox prompts because, like, it’s been months.

Maybe try creating an original work? I have a couple ideas, but we’ll see.

And because I had so much fun with this, I’m going to toss it at @chloes-yellow-cup!

[letsperaltiago]

We’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 2|

If you're new here: welcome! And if you're returning for second chapter: bless you :')

Here's to some Peraltiago banter and pining !!

Read it on AO3 or simply enjoy it here! I appreciate comments more than you know <3

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

CHAPTER 2: I say we don't know what comes 'cause that's on the way

“I’m home,” Jake called out as per routine as soon as he set a foot inside the walls of his home as the clock stroke 8 PM. The winter darkness had swallowed New York whole multiple hours ago, and the dwelling feeling of this specific day being that longest in a while was stuck in Jake’s tired, cold bones. Yes, today had felt torturously long, but it wasn’t because of the dark season (a national depression and whatnot) or the fact that he’d been out the door for 12 hours by now. No, all day long it’d felt like his phone and hands were constantly burning in what was clearly a move with the intention of provoking him. His body wanted to text Amy so bad; the faster he did that, the sooner he’d (hopefully) get to see her again. Yet he managed to refrain from doing so, figuring that Amy Santiago wouldn’t give anyone or anything but her job the time of day during official work hours.

Next thing he knew and before his thoughts could carry him elsewhere, the sound of a few light steps approached from the living room. Meanwhile he shrugged off his coat to abandon it on its designated hanger; right next to hers and above the already kicked off shoes.

“Hey,” he heard a warm voice welcome his eyes to switch in the direction of its owner. Here they met a pair of beautiful, welcoming brown irises. Not Amy’s warm brown irises though, he caught himself thinking… This was so wrong.

Immediately upon realising the betrayal his mind had just presented to him, Jake Peralta felt his heart skip a beat - the guilty kind - along with his gut dropping. It was indeed very wrong (even a rule he’d say) to compare ones current girlfriend, who was currently leaning against the doorframe connecting the living room to the entree, to an old friend slash colleague. Especially when you’d only talked to said old colleague for 3 minutes the very same morning. Her leaning hip elegantly as ever nudged the rest of her figure out of her resting position with his direction as target. “How was your day? It’s kinda late and I was getting worried about you.” Slender hands slid onto his waist as if they were making their way back home, reminding Jake of the fact that there was indeed nothing to worry about. Not when the incredibly stunning and smart Sophia Perez was gripping onto his knitted sweater in order to keep him in place for a welcoming kiss to his purple, frozen lips.

“Sorry,” barely made it out against her lips. Pulling away was his next move. “I had a perp that didn’t exactly feel like confessing, so I had to stay in order to get him to talk. He was not a fan.”

“Always the hero, huh?” Sophia smiled cheekily before turning back around prior to walking back to whatever she’d been doing before he walked in. “I had to bring home an important case that’s due tomorrow, so I’m working on that and already ate… But I made sure to keep a portion of dinner for you. It’s ready to be put in the microwave.” Then she disappeared back into the living room.

“Thank you,” was all there was left for him to call out after her, before making his way to their kitchen. ‘Their kitchen’ was still such a weird concept to Jake; sure they’d been together for 4 years now and had lived together for almost two, but sharing his home with another person still seemed surreal to him. This was of course nothing personal against Sophia, but it’d taken Jake a while to get comfortable enough with the idea of sharing a home with a romantic partner - hence why it’d taken Sophia two years to convince him of the fact that his apartment was a hazardous climate and that sharing the bills in two would ease their respective economies. All that aside, they now shared a quite nice apartment not too far from the 99th precinct and once again there was actual food on the table instead of his usual ‘chocolate milk with whatever cereal was in his cupboard that day’-combo. Not that he expected Sophia to cook or do anything for him… It was more a case of Sophia not really letting him, because she was afraid of him messing up, which to Jake himself seemed to be a fair judgement of character. What a chaos it would’ve been if he’d ended up with someone who couldn’t cook.

Whilst waiting for his food to be heated by the microwave as it quietly purred in the background, Jake suddenly realised he’d actually managed to forget about the burning phone in his pocket. For approximately three minutes. Nice. Without any further hesitation he grabbed the device from the right front pocket of his jeans and  swiped it open before immediately clicking the green ‘contacts’ button; dear God, he hoped he still had her number. If not, he’d probably kill- Oh wait, there it was. Jake instantly felt his heart settle again. Yet just as quickly as it had settled, his veins started pumping and of course his heart followed behind, racing again just as his shaky thumb clicked her name then ‘send message’.

Elsewhere, still in her old apartment, Amy Santiago heard her phone give off a rumbling sound that was too loud to ignore. A sigh escaped her otherwise relaxed body in frustration caused by the fact that she’d forgotten to take her phone off vibrate. Trying to fight the global phone-addiction, she liked her evenings undisturbed and preferably without unnecessary use of any gadgets. Though she had to admit that this interruption was no one else but her own fault; and Jake Peralta’s, she mentally added shortly after having put down her book and pushed herself off the couch to check on whoever was trying to reach her after 8 PM. A small, some would say guilty even, grin let its presence be known at the sight before her. Of course it was him; who else?

Jake Peralta: Didnt have ur email saved in my contacts. Sorry:(

Creative, funny enough for her to breath out a chuckle. Even though it was just a few words, Amy had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised by how unquestionably their dynamic fell back into place; something she’d lacked ever since her transfer.

Amy Santiago: I’ll let it slide this one time.

Waiting, staring at the three taunting dots, holding her breath.

Jake Peralta: cool cool cool. so i was thinkin saturday. shaw’s. 8 pm. cool?

Jake’s lack of upper case letters was a mess, which could only cause Amy to feel physically uncomfortable. She was just about to allow herself to comment on it; had he not gone to school? Though she refrained and thus it was quickly replaced by more important matters such as verifying her neatly structured calendar. It would be a lie though, if she claimed to not have made a mental note; Jake really needed to step up his texting game and formal requirements. Simply the thought of his supposed, messy work mails caused yet another shudder, whilst her fingers directed the conversation in a completely different direction.

Amy Santiago: Just checked my calendar and we’re in the clear. Saturday at 8 it is. Hope you’ve gotten better at pool.

In his comfortable spot on his and Sophia’s couch as yet another episode of Queer Eye introduced itself, Jake tried to act if he wasn’t actually afraid of not getting a reply; as if he didn’t fear the fact that Amy had agreed to meet up just to be polite and get rid of him that very same morning. He tried to act as if that would be okay ‘cause it’s not like they meant more to each other than the average old friend slash colleague. People came and went; Jake knew that better than anyone. Though that didn’t mean that he was actually good at playing it off as okay - especially when ‘people’ could potentially be Amy Santiago. Mercifully, a buzz coming from the arm rest beside him drew his attention away from the warm dinner before him and spiralling thoughts. There was no questioning the fact that he did indeed reach for the buzzing device way too fast, but all that fell aside when the lock screen’s preview of the text caused his heart to swell with joy.

Jake Peralta: deal. and dont worry. i’ve been practicing. ur ass will be whooped by 9

A feeling of a potential catastrophe came rushing through his entire body as soon as his finger had pressed the ‘send’ button. Perhaps your third text in five years to an old friend shouldn’t include her ass; especially when you own ass was far from single and definitely had felt… emotions towards said old friend at some point in time. Fumbling fingers quickly typed out a desperate, probably pointless, redeem before yet again hitting ‘send’.

Jake Peralta: sorry!! that was really inappropriate!

“Fuck,” he furiously locked his phone, mad at himself, at the exact same time as the back of his head hit the back of his couch in defeat. Well, if she had no reason to back out before, she definitely had now. Billions of minutes went by (or so it felt) before another buzz drew the heavy head off the back of the couch in a quick snap. In a spur of moment it all very much felt like the pivotal moment of his entire life.

Amy Santiago: Title of your sex tape?

Oxygen once again poured right into his lungs, allowing his chest to open up and his breath to unhinge from the brief, horrid intermission. The widest smile in forever (compared to what, he didn’t exactly know) formed on his tired yet now very content face. Their relationship really hadn’t changed and apparently the student had become the teacher.

Though ‘Saturday at 8 PM’ had seemed lightyears away on that Wednesday, for both Jake and Amy, the weekend and day finally emerged. Unbeknownst to the opposite party, one was more nervous and excited than the other. They’d sent each other a few texts during those few days; small jokes, remarks and other whatnots without importance. Little did they know that every single notification made the other’s heart jump to their throats for just a nanosecond - every damn time.

Amy Santiago: I’m at Shaw’s. Got us two seats in the right corner booth. Where are you?

Jake Peralta: its only 7.48!.. whatever. shouldve known i never had a fighting chance. see ya in 10

Amy chuckled to herself after leaving her phone face down on the oh so familiar, wooden table. Seemingly out of nowhere, the strong familiarity of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks: Sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, the smoke from multiple lit cigarettes mixed with the smell of alcohol, waiting for an iconically late Jake, sipping on a cheap beer… If she hadn’t known any better, Amy could’ve sworn that she was back in 2014. There was no way she’d ever say it out loud, because that would mean actually acknowledging it, but she sometimes wished she actually was back in 2014. This would imply still working at the Nine-Nine and more importantly the fact that she’d get a second chance at choosing a different path for herself. A path that didn’t bring her away from what she’d forever consider her favourite work place and best friends; more precisely a path that didn’t bring her so far away from the possibility of getting closer to a certain idiot, sweet manchild. Sometimes she even caught herself redhanded thinking, daydreaming about what they could’ve possibly resulted in if she’d just stayed. If only she’d just stuck around long enough for her to realise that Teddy wasn’t a match and Jake possibly was… If not perfect then maybe at least better.

She must’ve been staring at the tip of her beer bottle for quite some time seeing that as soon as she allowed her eyes to leave it, she gazed right at a smiling Jake Peralta. Almost like he’d walked right out of her guilty daydream.

“7.59,” he briefly threw a glance at his phone, before putting it down on the table. “Nailed it.”

There was that stupid, racing heartbeat again, Amy thought to herself in the midst of trying to play it off with a welcoming smile and what she hoped was a smooth answer. “I’m impressed. Just for that? First drink is on me.” She pushed a second beer, unopened, in his direction. Prepared as always.

“First drink? Damn, Santiago,” he slid himself into the narrow booth and seated himself next to her. “Are you planning on getting me drunk?”

“Shut up.” Honestly? Yes. But she couldn’t admit to that so she settled for a classic eye roll. That at least always seemed to get her out of these kinds of situations, where she hopelessly needed to run from her secret wishes.

“Here’s to reunions and old friendships,” Jake raised his beer into the air, implicitly asking Amy to make this their little moment.

“I’ll drink to that,” Amy complied, clinking her bottle against his before taking a slurp.

Moving forward, flow of the conversation was smooth and seemed infinite. As a surprise to no one, they had a lot to catch up on and there was no sparing of details or sidetracks. The rabbit hole that was their five years apart was wide agape, and with alcohol added to the mix, there was no stopping them. Their phones never left their screen down positions on the table before them, and their eyes never left the other’s. This was continuously the case until they were both three drinks in and Jake’s phone suddenly pinged.

“Sorry. Just a sec,” the beer in his hand was replaced by his phone. “Must be Sophia asking where I am.”

Sophia. Amy mentally repeated the name, analysing it, trying to put it into a fitting context but alas failed. It must’ve shown on her face. She was never good at hiding her true emotions - especially confusion, where her frowning brows would always act as snitches.

“Oh, wait…” an almost regretful, nervous even, expression presented itself on Jake’s face. “You don’t know Sophia, right?” Why did he have a culpable feeling of not wanting her to either? Things were going so well. It might not have been morally right if so, but Jake couldn’t help but consider that an evening without mentioning Sophia would’ve been easier… He knew things with Amy could never head in certain directions, but he also knew that there would’ve been nothing illegal about forgetting about certain things for just a couple of hours, right? Temporarily allowing himself to forget that Amy had left, eliminating alternative fates for their relationship, thus leading him onto a path right into Sophia’s arms. Alas, it too late. There was no way around it, and Jake had to act like he didn’t absolutely loath the cards that were now clearly on the table. “I met Sophia about a year after you transferred to Major Crimes. She’s…” Jake interrupted himself by taking a finishing gulp of his now empty beer. “She’s great. We live together in an apartment near the Nine-Nine and we’re enga- she’s uh-… my fiancée.”

If he didn’t know any better, Jake could’ve sworn that his old friend’s otherwise golden brown eyes were suddenly eclipsed b a darker shade that he couldn’t quite recognise. All he knew was that it could compare to the way sinister thunderclouds would overtake a clear spring day.

“Oh, that’s…” He saw her struggle to form words, her dark eyes returning to the old habit of centralising on inanimate objects rather than people, whenever she needed a second to form her upcoming sentence. “That’s… amazing!” her eyes were redirected back to his, paired with a weirdly contrasting smile. “I’m so happy for you, Jake. You deserve that.”

If it wasn’t because he consciously forced himself to not overanalyse every single thing she said or did that evening, Jake would’ve been worried by this immediate switch of mood. Yet he let it be, acting as if everything was as it should be. “Thank you.” That was a start, Jake thought. “Yeah, I’m… very happy.” He begged to God that he sounded more convincing than he felt. Why was he feeling like this? He was far from unhappy with Sophia and there was no justifying his opposing thoughts nor his feelings.

“Good. That’s the most important, right?”

God, he hated that he loved the way she tilted her head, whenever she would ask a rhetorical question. “Of course… But uh- what about you? Got a lucky guy?” Though he was definitely tipsy by then, he was nowhere near drunk enough for this conversation. Just the fact that he felt the need to be drunk for this particular conversation was reason enough to get drunk.

“No,” she smiled. Not sadly, because Amy Santiago surely didn’t need a man. But maybe her smile was just unaccented enough to imply that she needed something. This alone gave Jake a devilish and false sense of consolation. False in the sense that it was so wrong. On the other hand he also suddenly feel the need to figure out what this something was. “It’s just me, myself and my job,” she added.

“Well,” a comforting smile countered hers. The last thing he wanted was for her to interpret his question as criticising or demeaning. On the contrary, he actually admired (and always had) her professional drive and independence. “That’s not a bad thing. I’ll have you know…” He pushed himself out of booth for the first time since he’d arrived two hours prior, earning himself a confused look frown from Amy. “… I’ll drink to you and your admirable devotion to your job. Beer?”

Amy couldn’t point out if it was caused by the change in the way the lamp’s warm light hit him now that he was standing up; or if it was caused by him taking off his hoodie before throwing it where he’d been sitting, only to reveal his iconic and flattering flannel; or if it was caused by the buzz in her head and heating cheeks that made her wish he would peel of the remaining layers of clothing. Whatever it was, Amy Santiago was frustrated, yet happy - that collision of feelings itself was extra frustrating. She needed to fight it off the deeply wrong and forbidden thoughts with something. “Shots?”

“Shots.” He concluded, checking for his wallet. “Definitely.”

When Jake came back with four tiny glasses of some clear liquid. Amy didn’t recognise that nor the taste, when she downed her first shot seconds later with Jake back by her side. They’d gulped down one each, followed by Jake explaining her what it was, but she didn’t care at this point. All she wanted was to get back on track and forget the pre-shots conversation about the future Mrs. Peralta.

[datela-vodenit]

OC Interview (Taren Angeldos, feat. Davvik!)

Alrighty, time to do a tag meme! I was tagged by @deeafrotailmisstress​

Anyone who wants to try this out, DO IT!! Original questions here  

1. What is your name you go by?

“What name do I go by? Taren?”

2. What is your real name?

“Well, I’ll say it again, it’s Taren. The full name is Taren Angeldos, though!”

3. Do you know why you are named that?

“Dad named me it ‘cause ‘Taren’ was the name of his first pet trask… not sure what that says about me though.”

4. Ah.. okay. Are you single or taken?

“I’m single and ready to mingle, ladies!”

In the background: “Provided I like you.”

“Dad, c’mon! Ugh, old man thinks he’s my own personal matchmaker.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“How ‘bout the power of strength? I mean, look at these bad boys!”

6. S-Sir, please get off the coffee table. Ahem... so in that case, how much can you lift?

“Oh! There was this one time when I was 18 I lifted a whole engine turbine that weighed, like, 900lbs!”

“896!”

“Well, it felt like 900! Anyways, moving on!”

7. What is your favorite food?

“CAKE! Caaaaaake! That is like the best food I’ve ever tasted, I could eat it all day!”

“Any reason why it’s your favorite?”

“Oh yeah, when I was a kid, my dad brought home a cake straight from a Dominion vessel they encountered and, oh man, it was like heaven. You know, the Exiles may be at war with the Dommies, but they can make some fuckin’ amazing cake!”

8. What’s your eye color?

“People’ll call it gold, but I like to think it’s more coppery!”

“Taren, that’s not what copper looks like.”

“Excuse me, who’s the one getting interviewed here, Dad?”

9. How about your hair color?

“It’s like a boring purple with white tips and dots. I call it snow bangs, cause it looks like snow falling from the sky, heh!”

10. Have you any family members?

“Well there’s my dad over there, yes he’s a mordesh. Then there’s his girlfriend, Mala, who’s basically already my mom.”

“Not yet.”

“She totally is.”

11. What about pets?

“You know, one day I’m gonna get a boulderback buddy of my own one day! One as strong as I am!”

12. Now tell me about something you don’t like?

“You know what I don’t like? People thinking they can pick me up whenever they want ‘cause I’m a small guy! It hurts, honestly!”

13. Do... Do people do that often? 

“Hee hee hee...”

“Dad, shut up! I can hear you laughing!”

14. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like?

“Well, most of the time I occupy myself with making gadgets, but I also like to shred on my guitar!”

“Oh, what kind of music?”

“Metal! OH! Do you want a sample?”

“Oh, no no no, that’s fine, thank you!”

15. Ever hurt anyone before?

“Hurt anyone? Uhm, plenty of people, yeah? I’ve wrassled with people a few times and I get to punch a few baddies here and there.”

“And emotionally?”

“Emotionally? Yeah, yeah I have... I’ve done my best to settle my differences with others though. I know I can be annoying and shit, but I kinda like being annoying sometimes. Just gotta find common ground, right?”

16. Ever killed anyone?

“Ahm... probably? It was out of self defense anyways. No one messes with me or my friends. I don’t want to talk about it...”

17. Fair enough, let’s move on. Name your worst habits.

“Worst habits? Hmm... well there’s this thing I do with my tongue that pisses off my old man, watch!”

“Ugh, Taren, I swear to Kemos, that’s just... GET IT OUT OF YOUR NOSE!”

18. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“A few people: My dad and Mala, first off, my Aunt Olka, Guy Fantastic, and some bozos at Fantastic Enterprises. They’re the best!”

19. What is your sexual orientation?

“Well, I know I like girls, a LOT! Don’t think this means anything, but I’ve admired a muscular dude from time to time, though. Heh heh!”

20. Did you go to school?

“I didn’t have that luxury as a kid, but my dad taught me enough as well as a few other people on the ship I lived in. Basically the whole crew home schooled me.”

21. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Uhm, maybe! I do kinda like the idea havin’ a kid of my own, teaching ‘em the ways of the strong, yah know?”

“The... strong?”

“Yeah! Getting them buff!”

22. Alrighty. Do you have fanboys/fangirls?

“If I do, I wish they’d show themselves already, hah! Hah... hah....”

23. What are you most afraid of?

“Psh, ‘m not afraid of anything! I’ll you what though, I used to be terrified of draken! I would have sooooo many nightmares about them chasing me down long halls or gutting me out with their horns-”

“Taren...”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop - but nightmares were a thing when I was a kid. I had plenty of them back then!”

“Nightmares were a thing? What does that mean?”

“W- That just means I had a lot of nightmares as a kid, I had one like almost everyday. Some were kind of... too real. Like I was watching someone desperately clinging onto life.”

“Can we move on from this?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea...”

24. Uh, alright. What do you usually wear?

“Something that shows off my muscles, always! Like a cool vest or tank top. But I have a favorite jacket I like to wear too. Most of my stuff is grey and copper too. Copper’s my favorite color!”

25. Do you love someone?

“Love someone? Like my dad?”

“Awww.”

26. No, but like... Are you interested in someone?

“L-Lah... Like a crush? Uhm...”

“... You’re taking a while to answer this.”

“Sh-Shut up! No, I’m not interested in anyone... except if they’re interested in me, of course, heh!”

27. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Wha-What kind of a stupid question is that? I did that when I was like, five!”

“Actually, the last time you wet the bed was when you were 15-”

“DAD, WHAT THE HELL?!”

28. Pffft... We’ll move on now. What do you think is the worse act someone can commit?

“Hmm, I dunno, I think I just thought of a crime now, huh dad? Embarrassing your son in front of other people?”

“Taren...”

“I’m gonna be nice and spare you for once, Dad. We can argue about this later, right?”

“But it was true-”

“What’s the next question?!”

29. What class are you? (high class, middle class, low class)

“We’re middle, although that’s not saying much with the war.”

“DAD! OH MY KEMOS! IT’S MY INTERVIEW!”

30. Moving along! How many friends do you have?

“Oh, I have a good group of friends. My best band mate, Andi, and a few others from Fantastic Enterprises. Shout out to Seek, my man!”

31. You mentioned you loved cake, but what about pie?

“All they same, they’re both gonna be consumed by me eventually, hah!”

32. Favorite drink?

“I can drink almost anything, I don’t have a favorite! I’ll tell you what though, rowdowser milk is awful. Yeeuck...”

33. What’s your favorite place?

“I actually have a few of them, but the three I can think of off the top of my head are Wilderrun, Celestion, and Malgrave - Malgrave especially! It’s like the rough ‘n tough terf of Nexus and I get to surf some of the dunes there from time to time. It’s an absolute riot!”

34. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“You know, either or, there’s a ton of sunken shit to find in the lakes and oceans here on Nexus. I guess if I had to choose, I’d go for oceans!”

“So now we’ll be getting a little personal here...”

“Uhm... okay?”

“Oh Kemos...”

35. What’s your type?

“My type? Well, I like strong girls, but I also like it when girls act all cutesy and stuff too - all too adorable, right? But they have to be tall! Like, really tall! If they’re aurin height, I’m not all that interested. But a 7 foot beauty? Oh man, they can just step on me!”

“Taren!”

“Oh stop it, Dad. If the interviewer says we’re getting personal, best not to stick around for this part.”

36. How big is your willy?

“Woah! You really meant it with personal! I mean, if we had to give exact measurements, it’s like thiiiiiis long.”

“Taren, I seriously disapprove of this.”

“Hey! At least I’m not showing it to them, right?”

37. Any fetishes?

“Hah! That’s only for me to know and for you to not find out, alright?”

38. Dominant or submissive?

“Ooooh, I would wan to be dominant, yah know? I do kind of like the idea being submissive though, remember what I said about tall girls?”

“TAREN!”

“Alright, alright! Can we get some different questions here? For the old man’s sake?”

39. Sure thing. Indoors or outdoors?

“Now that’s a hard one. Indoors means I get to work on engineering projects and stuff, but outdoors means I get to go exploring! Oh man, that’s a hard choice!”

40. How about this. What do you think of the eldan?

“Oh those guys? I don’t know, they make a lot of cool shit, but a lot of that shit tries to kill me. So I can’t say I ‘like’ it, but I do wanna mess around with it a lot more. Seek would kill me for saying that, but he can’t stop me, hah hah!”

50. Anything else you’d like to add before we end?

“Only that your went from 0 to a 100 with those last few questions. That was great, man.”

“Ugh...”

“Oh, and I’m sorry about my dad. He’s always trying to mess with my fun, hah hah!”

“You know, if you didn’t act like a child all the time, I wouldn’t treat you like one.”

“That’s my dad, everybody. Hah hah! Love you!”

“... Love you too, kid.”

[audoldends]

Getting to know you meme

Which took me 10 million years to get too 🤷🏻‍♀️

Tagged by: @bl-phillip thanks darling 😉

Who I am tagging: @randomingoftherandomness @psygull @steampunkforever sorry if you’ve already done it

Relationship status: Single! Will someone date me???? I need a girlfriend

Favorite color: purple and black

Lipstick or chapstick: lipstick. I own many

Three favorite foods: pasta, pizza, and curry

Song stuck in my head: 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ it was BTS’s I’m Fine for most of today but I just listened to it so I’m good now

Last song I listened to: I’m listening to SF9’s KO at the mo

Last movie I watched: ....uuuuuhhhhh Nightmare Before Christmas I think? I saw it for the first time like 3 weeks ago

Time 10:00 pm on the dot

Books I’m currently reading: I just bought Modern Tarrot by Megan Tea so that’s next I guess other than that nothing really. I guess I just reread the Six of Crows duology?

Last thing I googled: BTS. I couldn’t remember their full Korean name

How many blankets do you sleep with: Currently? 2, tho that will change to at least three soon. It’s fucking cold out

Dream trip: I want to go back to Korea, Japan and China but I also want to visit Thailand, India, and most of Europe. Really I just want to go places

Anything you really want: Financial stability and BTS concert tickets

[staylavendertea]

Constellations

The breeze was cool against their skin, sitting on the thing that would give them warmth instead. The grass of the background had moisture slightly dusting it. That night was perfectly clear of any clouds, even the moon wasn't all present, but the stars shone greatly as they littered the sky. Gail let out a small happy sigh, the stress of the day finally loosening their grip on her shoulders. The night sky not the only thing helping with that, but also her lover's arm hooked with her own. Their cuddling position was quite strange and looked uncomfortable. Yet, they were completely fine it. "Right there, do you see it?" Gail's mind was brought out of her thoughts and back to reality to her lover's voice. "Huh?" She made a small sound at first before following Oswald's pointed hand at the sky. She was able to quickly concludes with her girlfriend's love of space and the general direction which she was looking at that he was talking about the constellations. Even if Gail had been listening enough to hear the name of the constellation, to Gail the sky was too full to tell any patterns. She never knew how Oswald was able to see it all. Just another thing she loved about the teen sitting next to her. "Sorry love, as I said before, I can never really tell the difference between them all." Gail stated quietly, as to not disturb the atmosphere. Oswald let out a small chuckle. "I know, it all takes practice really." Then they were in silence again. It lasted for a few moments, until Gail could feel a specific pair of eyes resting on her form. "You know, I think I know a way to show you." Oswald stated quietly. Gail turned her head to see Oswald grabbing for the pen next to her. Thinking the teen was going to draw them out on paper, she reached for the notepad to her left. Before she could turn around, she felt a light pressure on her leg. She quickly turned to see the cause, her eyes coming to her love hunched over her leg. Gail's thigh was where the freckles most laid together. All bunched together in burst of dusting almost black dots. Oswald had a tight -ish grip on the curve of her hip, trying to keep the leg as still as possible. The cause of the light pressure was the black ball point pen Oswald had gripped in their hand. The ink utensil easily made a thick black line against her light olive skin. Gail was taken a back for a second, not exactly sure what the other was doing. That was until it hit right smack in the face as she remember this pattern easily. Oswald loved to show Gail many and all her astronomy books, especially ones on constellations. This specific one stuck to Gail for one specific reason. It was Oswald's favorite and for simple reasons. It was always best viewed within the month of September. Which, rather coincidentally, was the month both their birthdays were held. Oswald was drawing out Aquila against her skin, using her freckles as stars to map out the constellation. Gail's heart skipped a beat, quite noticeable since she also seemed to be holding her breath. Oh, and Oswald knew as well how this was affecting her. Again, quite noticeable as the body under her hands stiffened a great deal. The small tug at the corner of their lips also didn't go unnoticed. Once Oswald was finally done, they let out a sigh, a content one, un clicking the pen as well. "Aquila." Oswald muttered softly, her eyes glancing up to met with Gail's. At this point in time, Gail couldn't speak, only letting out a small squeak. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were multiple shades darker then what they had been. "Now, you know what it looks like." Oswald gave a brilliant smile, clearly happy with both results. In the end, all the purple haired teen could give in return was a wheeze of 'whyareyousoperfect' muttered under her breath. That night was the start of something special. As time passed, Gail would be littered with constellations. Trailing all the way from the ones on her chest meaning love to the ones on her ankles meaning strength. Scaling up her spine, raking down arms and legs, even where the "Stars" were further apart. Then when the ink would start to fade, they would only be replaced by new ones. Gail never washed them off and wouldn't bother to cover them. Even when Oswald used the nickname that would make her let out an embarrassed screech. That nickname being their Special Map. "I really don't get understand why they call me that." Gail let out a sigh. Yet, Ozzy had their reasons. Not only being their guide to help their constellations, but also be the darling to guide her through the train wreck she called a life. Thanks for reading~~| 1. I thought of this idea whilst talking to @sketchymel about my OCs- They made me fall in love with this ship 2. I have never written a gender fluid character before, I am so sorry if I have offended, gender fluid character being Oswald 3. Please forgive if I have offended (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) 4. These two are two of my OCs, which if you want, can learn more about by just asking, please, I love talking about these guys XD