#But I think it's nice... I had to include that wedding scene somehow :'3

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Remember that Sonic AU with Idia and Ortho as main protagonists. Well uhh Please do the ‘Knuckles’ show equivalent in it please? 😀💧

WHEN I TELL U THAT I DID THINK ABT IT AFTER THE FIRST SONIC ASK-

Here's also the ask in question for ref.

Well imma leave you with a short intro, bcs there's so much to unpack. This thing was in my mind basement for a while :'3

We start off with a smol timeskip! :D

And during that timeskip, things do happen around: Mainly school activities. For Ortho, school was a bit more difficult when you and your buddies are known around as the supernatural powered dudes who fought the corrupted mad scientist and a fraction of the government. This made some things like sports events or extra activities to be more complicated than intended.

The most shocking thing tho was *gasp* Idia managed to pull a date?!?!

Our group was absolutely baffled when Idia revealed that he ended up hitting around dating 2 dudes: 1 silly library guy and one who owns a small restaurant in their little town. And they were decent people too!

The only problem was that, like most people who were not involved in the said adventure (either directly involved, related or witnesses) Azul and Malleus, Idia's boyfriends, don't know that the firehead was much more than just some silly alien guy. And Idia insisted at our first years group to keep it that way, because it was 1 talk that the latter found it pretty hard to address.

Now our new adventure starts by the end of the school year. There was the school prom! And being such a small town(almost a village if you will), the school prom was a pretty popular event around. Kinda a spice to the, otherwise boring, days around.

But before that, there was the academic scores settling. And everything. A lot of tests coming up and a lot of grades filling in. Ortho would say that he was a top student and he shouldn't fear when his grade situation gets mailed out, yet still, he was on literal edge for mail day, which Idia took it as odd. Doesn't help that Ortho inheritantly was super fast, thus he always grabbed the mail before his brother and went through it at lightning speed.

One day, Ortho comes back from school, to find that the mail came later today, while he was in class and it wasn't a skip day, and Idia took it before him. Of course, the dread was very real and the rest of the first years, who knew exactly what was up, tried to reassure their buddy that 'hey, we all got the same fate in there'.

Idia, naturally, wasn't that happy with a particular class Ortho had: Socials. While he had a nearly perfect score everywhere else, socials was a mediocre one, bearly passing. Idia couldn't complain about Literature or Arts, he knew those old ass teachers still were petty and poured their hate on the kids, still Ortho had pretty good grades at them. The socials was where Idia found it wierd. And naturally, he asks the group about it, when Sebek blurts out that all of them have the same grade.

Turns out that, since the incident, the school implemented an obligatory class: Socials. And for this, they got a teacher from a bigger city, who happens to also have a much more 'different' approach to things. Our group doubts any class in this school has an actual great grade at that particular class, so please, Idia, excuse them, maybe buy them consolatory ice-cream while at it? :'3

Idia does excuse them, but insists that, if socials are mandatory next year too, the group will try to do better in there. Now they only had a few school days left, so he couldn't really hope the grades will 'magically fix themselves'.

Hey, at least they are passing! :'D

Still, that day, Epel points out that Idia was much more fidgety, hence his very messy reaction to the grades. He was all over the place and, clearly, he was a few secs away from causing an earthquake. The latter just shows up his hand, which had an engagement ring on it.

Long story short, Malleus proposed today and, of course, Idia and Azul accepted with no 2nd thoughts. The librarian really was rushing into things whenever he saw green light apparently. :'3

So all summer, Idia was preparing mentally and physically for the marriage. For him, it was a more important task to see how he could break the news to his fiancés about the fact that he is literally the god of this planet. Ortho did try to reassure that the best case scenario: nobody has a heart attack or faints! What a good option! :D

By the end of the summer, the plans were made: an early autumn wedding, with the venue on a more retreated beach. Very little touches had to be done until the big day itself and Idia was getting restless as it approached.

Ortho really saw it as both a very beautiful thing and as a problem. On one hand, he liked Idia's fiancés and he would be very happy with the resulting marriage, especially if it made his big brother happy, but on the other hand, everything was moving very fast and, clearly, Idia had a harder time keeping the pace than Ortho. The rest of the first years are also trying to help Idia with his Woes, but it's pretty hard to calm him down. On more than one occasion, Idia was back to his big form, hid behind trees and mountains and simply processing the situation while our group talked to him, mostly to keep him grounded from making all kinds of imaginary scenarios and worrying himself more.

It was time tho, for Ortho's 2nd year of high-school. He was pretty excited about it, until he heard that socials were, yet again, a mandatory class. Doesn't help that Idia's wedding was in the first school weekend. The good part, Alex, Ace's big brother, was helping Idia when our group was at classes. (they became proper friends at the end of their adventure)

So with around 5 days until the big day, things were slowly looking out to be better. Things were settled, programs were fine and everything was coming together very nicely.

Except that things couldn't be very nice all the time.

Our lil group was out through town one evening, when they stumble across another alien, this one set on hunting the Shrouds. Of course, upon noticing Ortho, it escalated into a fight.

And now, this guy was freakishly agile. It didn't help that the red marks on his body, along the bright red hair, indicated that his origins were, definitely, from the same planet Idia and Ortho came from. Still, he reffers to Ortho as a 'threat' and thus has to handle it upon the rules of his homeland: by killing the boy.

Of course, things get much more clear when Crowley returns, saying that this is his new little ally. Thankfully, before shit can actually hit the fan, our group is saved by a misterious blonde guy, who can apparently shapeshift into any person.

That guy is Vil Schonenheit, upon his introduction. The other one was Riddle, an esteemed guard of temple of the core, from their home planet. He does make a short history of why Riddle was so set on killing Ortho.

Many years ago, a Shroud actually achieved a tie with their planet core, thus absolving immortality and immense power. The chaos emeralds were expelled to earth, while the said Shroud was locked in the temple of the core, as to prevent any wish of destroying their home. Riddle came from a line of guards who trained all their life to guarding the said temple. If anything went wrong, the guards were trained so that they could kill anything except a Shroud that was already tied to a core.

Vil also adds that he was not a guard, but an entertainer. He was, initially, given as a sacrifice by his, now deceased, mother, to please the 'diety', but he was spared, even so, the Shroud protected him from his prison, until he was old enough to venture back to his worried father. Thus he was forever indebted to that man. His wife was killed by the guards and he was unable to do anything but watch, believing that his children suffered the same fate too. So when Crowley came forth, his presence angered the Shroud. Crowley preached about 2 more of that kind here, on Earth. Riddle was chosen to accompany Crowley and get rid of the said threats, while Vil was told to go and stop this, to protect the Shroud's 2 sons.

Ortho is, rightfully, very shook by this revelation, but our group insist that already Idia tied in with Earth's core. Vil now is genuinely worried about this, because it's either Idia accepts to be locked away forever or he gets forcefully put to sleep by the guardians, once they find out what happened. Crowley didn't say anything about one of the brothers actually achieving this oh so feared form, so they didn't think too much on how deep this thing is.

For now, Riddle was on their trail, so as to not worry Idia, Ortho played the 'I'm having a sleepover at Ace so u could smooch with your fiancés before the wedding' card. It worked! Idia was too flustered to fully question why the sudden decision. :P

Alex is also very taken aback by this new trouble our group got into. Like being chased by the government wasn't enough, huh?! Still, he complies on trying to divert Idia's attention off this mess while the rest try to get Riddle to realise that Crowley is using him for the emeralds.

Cue a lot of running around. Riddle was 1 relentless mf. :'3

But, on their now daily chases, our group gets in mingling with the secret services. Again. :'D

Long story short, they caused a lot of trouble. Crowley was still on the loose, with his new little puppet being a force to reckon with. So the course of action taken by the said secret services was to take Idia in custody until Riddle gets wind of it and walks right into the trap.

It was a horrible plan, really. Especially with the upcoming wedding. :'3

We get introduced to Jade and Floyd, 2 secret service agents in the new branch of 'dealing with alien threats'. They actually prove to be a thorn in Riddle's sides, especially Floyd who is relentlessly taunting the redhead, thus allowing for Riddle to be distracted mid altercation.

And oh, is Riddle fuming! He became so enraged that the second he spots even the tiniest hair of Floyd, he goes tunnel vision and hunts that guy for the life of him. This put breaks in Crowley's plans enough so our group could actually devise a proper plan. The wedding was actually tomorrow and they were running out of time. Idia had to find out one way or another. Preferably after the wedding itself, ya know. :'3

But, first, the wedding! It was a very pretty location, still warm due to the early autumn, and it was small, pretty retreated.

Except that crow man cannot help but bust that shit too. Imagine Riddle's surprise when he sees 2 Shrouds, one who shows the signs of his bind to the planet's core.

BUT! Before anyone could do anything against it, it turns out a good chunk of the guests and the catering team were secret government agents. Azul also was one, pretty obvious after he pulled a mf gun on Riddle.

Turns out Azul was dispatched on a discreet operation of supervising Idia, which he really wasn't supposed to end up marrying him. So there's that. :P

Everything is messed up and so overwhelming that Idia actually snaps under the pressure and shows the full extent of his power: a gigantic being of magma and fire, raising walls and waves to separate people from each other.

Poor Malleus, he's the only guy who literally has no idea what is happening. Please, let him get married in peace. :'3

Naturally, Riddle's approach is to confront Crowley about lying to him, that none of the 2 is actually tied to the planet's core. This complicates things. Idia cannot be killed, because if he dies, so will the planet slowly, due to how young Idia was. Crowley was aware of this effect and still pushed the redhead to hunt the Shrouds.

Truth was, Crowley still wanted the chaos emeralds. And Idia, along with our group, had them. By having Riddle hunt them, Crowley was sure he could back them up and get the emeralds one by one.

Cue Idia losing his shit at that revelation. Like, it's a lot to take in today. His wedding was crashed, Crowley is back, apparently more aliens from his original birthplace came here, his father is alive, Ortho was hunted, and one of his almost husband was a secret agent, initially tasked with supervising him.

Cue grabbing crow man and chucking him through the ocean. Like if he dies, Idia doesn't fricking care. He's done and over and now he's staying criss-crossed, sulking as a petty kid, except that he's basically an all powerful diety of this earth. :'3

Still, Ortho tries to reach out to him, with the help of the rest of the group, Ortho manages to climb on Idia's shoulder and try to talk to him, firstly apologising for hiding the whole hunting thing from him. Idia accepts the apology, adding that he was worried sick when this whole thing got to light. Then Ortho urges to forgive Azul too, because he genuinely seems to love him and Malleus. And the 2 most likely are trying to see how to approach this whole thing. Idia is a bit hesitant, but he does allow Ortho to hug his cheek, before putting him gently down and grabbing Azul with Malleus. After they had a short talk, it was pretty obvious the small 2 kisses on the cheek and Idia seemed pretty happy as he finally rested back to his human form.

The wedding is still on tho! Except that most of the fancy dressing is torn or dirty from the fight around. :v

Idia gets properly introduced to Vil and Riddle. Being in an actual good mood, Idia does forgive Riddle, mostly since Crowley did manipulate him into this shit. The redhead does insist that if word goes back to the council of guardians, Idia will have to be locked away. That's how they kept his father too, in fear of destroying their planet. Buuuuuttttt if Riddle and Vil were here to, let's say, take care of this, then technically they could report that Idia was 'settled down' and it was safe. :3

The nice part, Vil and Riddle did settle in with new thing in their little town. Riddle as a teacher, while Vil as a theatre manager(upon promotions) so it was pretty chill and not anymore fear of other aliens possibly coming down to hunt the Shroud brothers.

The not so nice part: our group is still almost failing at socials :'3

A thing tho, was that our bros did ask Vil and Riddle if it's possible to see their father. The 2 said that for Ortho, it could be easier, but for Idia, due to still being fresh, him leaving the planet now, even for a bit, it could result in natural disasters left and right. Their best shot is having the father coming here, but that was, upon their words, impossible to achieve with the current guardian situation. Being tied to the core for much longer, Mr Shroud could leave it to be independent for a while, but, again, the guardians won't allow such thing.

So for now, they have no option but to leave it as that. U-Ub

[cory-laika-ghost]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

A/N: I've decided to post our story on here because I can I'll update every Friday also because I can

Echoes of fate ch1:

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

Ghost angrily stomped through the forest, trying to get the water out of their clothes, despite the beauty of the crystal trees, as Ghost was human. This wasn’t right to them, it didn’t seem right, isn’t right, Cory on the other hand didn’t care. She just wanted a soul, and since she’s a ghost, most would see her as creepy, stubborn, or stupid, she’s smart if you know her, she proudly ran through the forest, spotting Ghost.

“whom and what the hell art thou?” Ghost snapped, staring at Cory up and down, she replied with scoffing then a stupid remark “the creature of your nightmares mortal,” Ghost just stared, “now give me your soul!” Cory quickly jumped at Ghost trying to somehow tear the very soul out of them. They began to run quietly cursing at themselves and quietly praying for a chance to get back home, they were so busy overthinking this, they crashed into a small hut.

The interior looked as if it had belonged to nobody, yet it was owned by a young dog-witch! Xey came out of the hut with ragged, ripped clothing, messy bandages and hair. The young witch looked excited, clamming xeir hands into fists, shaking them, and they walked over, “Hello!” Xey smiled, looking at Ghost. “Hide me!” Ghost exclaimed as they ran behind them, Cory running up on the small bit of grass in front of the abandoned shack, she glared at the person, then behind xem at Ghost, Youu snake!” Cory exclaimed, poking the witch Whyy did you steal my prey?!..” She sounded like a cannibalistic 9 year old child, “what?” Xey seemed confused, a questionable expression plastered across xeir face. “I said, why did you steal my food?” Cory said slowly, annoyed, probably to mock xem, xey gave an awkward laugh in response, “Thy am not food!” Ghost shuffled around at the back of the hut, peering over to bite their thumb for some odd reason at Cory “kill yourself,” Cory snapped. “Well uh, anyway! I’m Laika!” they butt in, trying to lift the mood, smiling at the two, who were both gritting their teeth at one another, plotting brutal murder. “Well ‘Laika’ I think you should go drown in the river,” Cory spat at it annoyed and Ghost interrupted, biting their thumb, “thy doth not need to be a bi- bench about it..” After what felt like an eternity of fighting, which was actually about eleven minutes, Cory and Ghost seemed to be a bit more stable, no longer at each other’s throats, “well I'm leaving,” Ghost announced, beginning to walk off and to the exit of the forest, happy that they still have all their organs in their body. “Hey! You’re not leaving without giving me my fucking soul!” Cory yelled as she got out of the shack, falling on her face as she did so, before running off to find where Ghost had taken themselves. “No don't leave me!! I want to be included!” Laika yelled, following the others.

By the time Laika ran over, Cory was wrestling Ghost on the floor for the soul. “Get off me you foul beast!” Ghost tried to push Cory off, but for some reason they couldn’t, “souls first pookie wookie,” Cory replied, and Laika stood there, watching the scene like it was a movie. The three were clearly distracted, not noticing two new figures had walked over.

They both were tall and had wings, however, one was paler and her wings were purple, with hair hanging over her eyes like a wedding vale, hiding 3 eyes, and the other’s skin was rather dark with light blue braids parted slightly by horns at the top and white wings tucked behind her, beautiful women really, but were their intentions as beautiful as how they appeared?

One of them spoke brushing leaves out of their hair, “Finally.” The three of them froze up, then looked at each other slightly confused, yet they knew something was up. Ghost turned to the two ethereal beings, “What art thou?” Ghost questioned, Cory squinted, examining the two who just appeared out of nowhere, “Maybe they’re going to one of those dumb comi-con things. Explains why they look like idiots.” A nerve was hit, not surprisingly after an insult was just thrown. “No, you absolute faggots,” the purple-haired one snapped, “We’re goddesses, also Seleste is a fuckstain, so I’m sorry if she’s slow,” She finished, “oh talk about the pot calling the kettle black!” The blue-haired one, likely Seleste yelled at the other “If you were mortal I’d grab a Chihuahua and make it bite you to death,” Again, the purple-haired one made a snappy comment, and the three started to shuffle away as the gods were arguing not entirely sure what to do at the moment. “We should… like… go,” Laika whispered, yet not low enough. “Hold it right there mortals!’” Seleste pointed at them before they could get far, “We have unfinished business,” she continued. “Yeah faggots!” The purple-haired one added in, “Melanie you can't say that word anymore,” Seleste sighed in annoyance, “One, shut up, two, I’m gay. Also hi I’m Melanie, applying here to be your shitty villain who probably sells paper animals and cannabis for a living on the side of being the creator of many living things on earth and countless other universes!” She continued, which earned a judgmental look from everyone else, “Yeah… I get that a lot,” Melanie gave a fake sad face, to which Seleste rolled her eyes, “I also sell meth, feet pics, tobacco, uhm, ice, flip flops, cocaine, and onlyfans." She ignored Seleste, continuing her strange speech, “...you have kids,” Seleste side eyed her “twenty-three to be exact.” She corrected “Bedswerver” Ghost coughed under their breath. “How much is the drugs?” Laika blurted out, “what the hell,” Ghost replied to Laika’s interesting question, “what’s cocaine, meth, ice, tobacco, cannabis?” Cory quizzically asked, in which Laika replied “something that makes me so woopdiedoo silly me I forget my past!” Cory’s eyes lit up, almost like a child’s would. “Anyway!” Melanie changed the subject, looking at all three of them, “You guys need to become friends SOMEHOW,” That caught different reactions and faces, Cory looked disgusted, Ghost looked unbothered, but not happy about it, and Laika looked hopeful. “But first we gotta traumatize you even more than already!” Seleste finished for her, it looked like the soon to be trio standing in front were going to object in some way, but ended up being cut off, and put in a bubble that anchored itself to the bottom of the ocean.

[ghost-proofbaby]

oh. my. god. alright, buckle in, because this chapter broke me and i am going to make you all hear all about it. also it's a bit of a mess and i definitely bounced around way too much. my bad. spoilers below the cut <3 (also anyone not already reading this story - what are you waiting for people??? look at this masterpiece!!! what!!!)

FIRST OF ALL

“Oh—” he looks back over as you lift the bag of laundry into your arms with a huff, “I have a pair of silk boxers in there that need to be hand washed, so don’t even think about putting them in the machine. And, uh… don’t worry about the stains.”

it's not a want it's a need y'all i need him so badly. eddie in any sort of fancy underwear always gets me going but silk boxers? running to costco for my own kirkland knockoffs brb

and robin!!! my baby robin!!! don't even get me started on baby girl showing up!!! so many thoughts on her entrance, but that entire interaction with eddie was just... oddly comforting? the entire energy of them just being besties is so nice and warm. obviously eddie cares a lot about her - he's her beard for fuck's sake - but i just... i love to see it in action. speaking of which...

“Hey Wheeler, did Robin tell you she’s getting new headshots done for her upcoming play?” he asks. “Do you mind giving her some pointers while we break?”

Nancy brightens at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea. I’d be happy to help!”

“Why don’t you two go somewhere private? I don’t want all these people leering at my sexy wife when she’s posing.”

this entire interaction just softened my heart so much. the way we as readers know why he did this, that he's letting robin and nancy have a moment alone together, but i just. ugh. i completely melted fully. also, it certainly didn't go over my head the way he so casually greeted robin. or the way he didn't wear his wedding ring when they were alone in the apartment. it's all these beautiful, subtle details that you geniuses include that are just so so so pleasing to me.

SPEAKING OF BEING ALONE IN THE APARTMENT. THIS SCENE.

Fully content to ignore him until your task is done, you can’t help but startle away when his fingertips ghost against your temple, pushing the hair back.

BUT THEN I WASN'T EVEN GIVEN THE GRACE TO RECOVER BECAUSE YOU EVIL LIL BEAUTIES HIT US WITH

Eddie’s reaction is instantaneous and dramatic – he moans in outrage as he slides all the way down to the floor beside you, leaning over to lightly hit his forehead against the side of your outer thigh over and over.

i couldn't explain why these scenes, amongst so many other little moments this chapter, had me so feral. i was losing my mind, i had genuine butterflies, until chels so graciously pointed something out - the little touches. the soft brushing of them against each other, eddie making contact whenever he can. basically what i'm saying is i'm touch starved and this chapter has somehow made it even worse. kudos, y'all. endless kudos.

don't even get me started on the honey bee reveal (seriously never letting go of that joke that i'm the biggest fan of this story due to my own bee tattoo sorry y'all), or erica and murray. and murray's sexual innuendos??? GOD. you HEATHENS.

alright, last thought before this damn review gets too long, cause lord knows i could actually scream endlessly. i want to point out something that killed me.

him inviting her on tour.

we know it's part of her job. we know she was coming whether he asked her or not, whether she said yes or not. but in that moment, they play into this illusion of choice. like they have a choice, a say, in what is to happen. the same illusion that, with a heavy heart and sinking stomach, i sense they will play into when it comes to their soulmarks and them being soulmates (speaking it into existence. i know it hasn't been confirmed yet but i refuse to believe otherwise and i'm delusional. sorrz again.) they will pretend to have a choice, we know eddie already holds that state of mind regarding soulmates. act as if they can choose their destiny in whether they will end up together. fight it, accept it - whichever path chosen, they will act as if they have a choice.

they don't have a choice. it's the universe's choice, and they're pawns, and i'm getting carried away and probably no longer making sense but. yeah. not really a theory just an observation and word vomit. sorry guys.

thank you for this brilliant chapter and for letting us see the workings of every single amazing mind behind this series. i bow to y'all, seriously. you all possess such talent and it never fails to leave me in awe. i am sending all my love to you all until the end of time. <3

I Will Wait

a soulmate!fakemarriage!au with rockstar!eddie and personalassistant!reader (also featuring ronance)

cowritten by @abibliophobiaa, @blue-mossbird, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, and @fracturedarkness

18+ only for mature themes and eventual sexual content. fem!reader, alcohol consumption

three (15.3k) | next | masterlist | AO3 | 🎵 shmackin' tunes

in this universe, there is no upside down, the year is 1995, and corroded coffin = nine inch nails. enjoy! 🐝

The next few months are an absolute whirlwind. Corroded Coffin was in the last legs of producing their new album when you were hired, meaning the period of time when they were gearing up for the debut was just getting started. Photoshoots, interviews, preparing press releases, scheduling future appearances, and a million other things all seemed to be happening at once.

In addition to being the middleman between Eddie and the powers that be, which mostly consisted of Steve sending you constant emails of new appointments, you also were quick to learn some of the other expectations that comes along with being a PA for a celebrity. Mainly: house work.

At first you had thought they were fucking with you when Eddie mentioned that he needed you to come to his brownstone in the morning to do his laundry. As it turns out, he was both completely serious and incredibly amused with your ignorance of all the things you had technically signed up to do for him by taking this position. So you found yourself letting yourself into the Munson brownstone in Greenwich Village a few times a week to do menial tasks for your client. 

Today, you’d walked in around 10am, much to Eddie’s displeasure, and were greeted with a bag full of laundry thrown at your feet. “Good morning to you too, Eddie,” you offer, albeit a bit dryly as you place your pocketbook on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Did the maid I hired not get around to laundry this week?”

“Fired her.” Eddie sounds way too chipper for this time of day, and you can only guess it’s because of his smug smile as he forces you into doing things you’ve tried to work around. “Kept looking at my underwear weird; thought she was gonna sell it or something.”

Not believing it for a second, you still give him a tight smile. “I’m sure. I’ll work on finding another maid to clean the brownstone. Again.”

“You do that!” He calls over his shoulder as he walks further into the bright and airy kitchen. In his black sweatpants and bleach-stained tank top, he looks completely at odds with his own home. It sometimes makes you wonder if his wife, Robin, picked everything out or if they had just gotten a designer to come in and make it like a show home. The first floor is beautifully decorated but stale, like no one actually lives there. It gets a bit more personal as you ascend but it still seems strange to have a home feel so disconnected. “Oh—” he looks back over as you lift the bag of laundry into your arms with a huff, “I have a pair of silk boxers in there that need to be hand washed, so don’t even think about putting them in the machine. And, uh… don’t worry about the stains.”

Oh, how you wish you could smack the cheeky grin off his face sometimes. You mumble an acknowledgement as you carry the bag through the first floor and past the kitchen, passing through an open door frame that leads into the laundry/mud room. Sorting lights and darks, despite the very intense lack of white articles that need to be cleaned, you start shoving black fabric after black fabric into the top load washing machine. When the tips of your fingers brush silk, your teeth clench tight together as you clutch it in your fist and throw it towards the deep sink a few feet away.

Once the machine is started, you walk back over to where the bundle of black silk now rests at the bottom of the plastic basin. Upon first examination, there are no suspicious ‘stains’ to be seen, but you still don’t trust it. Pinching one of the hems between your fingernails, you lift it up to eye level to inspect further, wanting to know exactly what you’re getting into before you get started.

The french door behind you pulls open with a stream of sunlight and a brush of floral perfumed air. Still holding the offending garment between your fingertips, you spin toward where Robin has just entered the mud room, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose and a book in her hand. “Uh…” Her hand slowly drops from the door handle, a smile stretching across her face as her eyebrows raise. “Whatcha doin’?”

Embarrassment wells up to warm your face, which you assume was Eddie’s goal all along, while you give Robin a tense smile. “Eddie fired the maid again. Said his silk underwear needed to be ‘hand-washed’.”

Robin’s sigh is one of long-suffering acceptance as she crosses over to you, grabs the boxers, and throws them into the running washing machine. “He’s fucking with you; you know how he is.” The sunglasses are pushed up into her hair so she can fix you with her blue-eyed stare. “You can just… push back a little. Don’t let him walk all over you.”

“It’s my job to—”

“Your job is not to just do whatever the fuck he tells you to do. Like, hiring the maid was a good move. He probably would’ve had you over here everyday dusting his little trophies if you hadn’t outsmarted him.” Her smile is warm, almost like she’s proud. “Your job is to make sure he can do his job. That’s all.”

Since meeting Robin 3 months ago, she has been nothing but sweet and kind to you. Despite being your client’s wife, she very often put herself in your corner, facing off against some of Eddie’s more unreasonable requests. While you don’t necessarily need her intervention, it still is nice to have sometimes. Her reassurance has your tension easing, a deep breath expanding your lungs in slight relief. “Thank you, Robin.”

“No prob,” she taps the cover of her paperback against your bicep as she moves past you and out into the kitchen. “Eddie!”

You follow her through the entry just in time to see Eddie spinning toward her shout, an open gallon of milk in his hand and a white stain on his upper lip. “Hey Rob, what’s the move?”

“God, Munson, you’re so fucking gross.” She pushes his shoulder out of her way to reach into the fridge and pull out a decanter of orange juice. “Remind me to never drink the milk in this house again.”

He sets the jug on the kitchen island and leans on his elbow to keep himself in her sideview, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “And you married me anyway.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groans, although it betrays a certain level of amusement with her husband as she places her palm on his forehead and pushes him away again. Watching the easy interaction of their back and forth, always acting more like best friends than a more formal married couple, has a pang twisting in your chest. You can only hope for such an easy and comfortable relationship with your soulmate one day.

Two days later, you’re once again standing in the Munson brownstone in the early hours of the morning. Or, Eddie’s version of early, which happens to be anytime before noon. You hadn’t had time to find another cleaning service yet so you were elbows deep in the sink in their kitchen, bright yellow silicon gloves protecting your hands from the hot, soapy water as you washed bowls and coffee cups.

Eddie appears at the bottom of the stairs, yawning loudly as he stretches his arms skyward, shirt lifting to show a peek at the ink beneath. You pay him no mind as you continue your methodical cleaning of ceramics, keeping your eyes down even when he walks right up beside you and leans on the counter. Fully content to ignore him until your task is done, you can’t help but startle away when his fingertips ghost against your temple, pushing the hair back.

“What are you doing?” You finally glance over at him, your voice pitching up a bit in surprise. His smile is mischievous, eyes shining in the light, leaning over further to rest his chin on his fist.

“Oh, I was just fixing it for you. Your hands are wet and soapy.”

Exhaling through your nose, you go back to focusing on scrubbing the burnt eggs from the bottom of a frying pan. Over the last month or so, Eddie has gone from barely tolerating your existence and trying to make your life miserable, to being very pleased with your existence so he can continue to push the envelope on making your life miserable. It has become more and more like a game for him – testing the boundaries on what you will tolerate. Both what you will do for him and how much he can flirt with you until you get terse.

After a moment of awkward silence, at least on your end, you move to break the tension. “We should go over your schedule for today.”

He gives an exaggerated sigh, turning to lean both arms back on the counter beside you. “If we have to.”

“Your stylist asked you to be on site by 10am so they would have time to get you ready before the photographers arrived.” You’re barely halfway through your sentence before Eddie is groaning, sinking a bit lower onto his elbows. Mustering a flat look, you turn your head in his direction. “Why are you pouting?”

“I forgot the fucking photoshoot was today.” A ringless hand comes up to rub at the side of his face, still a bit swollen from sleep. “The only thing worse is those stupid press interviews.”

You turn back to the soap filled bowl in your gloved hands to hide your smile. “Good thing that’s not today. The interview is later this week.” Eddie’s reaction is instantaneous and dramatic – he moans in outrage as he slides all the way down to the floor beside you, leaning over to lightly hit his forehead against the side of your outer thigh over and over.

“I swear, it’s like you hate me,” his voice is muffled from below, face directed down. “You hate me when I have been nothing but nice to you.”

An amused snort leaves you against your will at the idea. His head whips back to look up at you in surprise and you barely manage to school your expression in time. “It’s not personal, Eddie. I’m just doing my job.”

“Speaking of your job,” he picks himself up off the floor in a less-than-graceful fashion, his sweatpants running much lower as he rises. You keep your eyes in the sink as you wipe down the last coffee mug left and pretend you aren’t seeing him adjust the fabric around his groin. “I need you to walk my lizard today.”

Halfway through removing the stopper from the sink to drain the used water, you freeze with your forearm still in the slowly lowering water. “Excuse me?”

He’s leaning on his elbow again, a smug smile on his face as he watches your reactions. “My lizard. You know, the one upstairs?” You make a noise of acknowledgement that you know what lizard he’s referring to. “He needs to be walked once a week. Specifically on sunny days. Normally around noon when the sun is highest, so he gets the most of the heat, y’know?”

You feel your eyebrows drawing together in confusion, trying to think back to what you know about lizards. Which, admittedly, is not much. Still, needing to walk a lizard sounds incorrect. You’ve never seen someone walking around with their lizard on a leash. You’re about to start to question him more when you catch sight of his expression. He has his lips drawn in between his teeth, his eyes pinched tight as he tries not to laugh. “... You’re fucking with me.” The laugh escapes as a bark, his palm slapping down on the counter beside you as it echoes out into the high ceilings of the brownstone. “You almost fell for it too!”

Bristling in annoyance and just a little bit of embarrassment, you take a deep breath and hang the damp gloves over the edge of the now-empty sink to dry. “I think it’s time for you to get ready to leave.”

His mirth dies down fast, his head rolling back to sigh at the ceiling. “But, and here’s the thing right, I really don’t want to go.” You make another noncommittal noise, not looking to encourage his antics right now. Neck rolling toward you, that cheeky grin that you’ve come to loathe is back. “Beg me and I’ll do it.”

Another exhale out of your nose to remain calm, you weigh your options. If you beg, you are playing into his games and encouraging antics like this. But, you also get the result you want faster. If you refuse, you are technically standing your ground, but could end up with a bigger fight to try to get him ready and out the door in time. Deciding to play his game, you give him the flattest expression you’re capable of. “Will you please get ready to leave for your photoshoot?”

This time the sigh he lets out is satisfied, his shoulders falling and eyes closing in what looks like relief. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re accompanied by a lazy smile. “Love when you say please.” He taps the tip of your nose, shocking you still, as he turns back toward the stairs. “I’ll be ready in no time!”

He is not ready in no time.

You’re standing at the bottom of the stairs at 10:10am and have still not seen head nor tail of Eddie since he traipsed back up. The car outside has already honked twice, letting you know it’s waiting, but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Eddie, we’re already late!” Your voice echoes through the multi-floor space, definitely loud enough for him to hear, but you get no response. Patience running thin, you raise your voice again. “Eddie!”

You finally hear him reply, voice far off. “I got stuck in my pants, maybe you should come up and help me!”

Pressing your fingertips to your brow bone hard enough to pull the skin of your eyelid, you call back, “If you’re struggling to put your own pants on, I should probably call a medical professional.”

The soles of now-familiar boots appear at the top of the tall staircase, your eyes trailing up their occupant as he begins to slowly lumber his way down the stairs. He’s in his usual attire. Scuffed Doc Martens, a pair of black jeans stretched tight over his endless thighs, leather jacket fitted against his frame, those chunky rings adorning his fingers. Around his neck he wears multiple silver chains of varying sizes, dipping low into the collar of his shirt. “Y’know you could stand to be a little more fun.”

You remain firm, arms crossed as you wait for him to hit the final step. “I don’t think I understand your version of fun.” He blows a raspberry in your direction as he crosses the foyer to start shoving things into the already-tight pockets of his jeans. “We’re already late, and that means we are just delaying further when we can get to your preferred portion of the day at the studio.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror before him. Both of you showing an attempt at nonchalance.  “I swear, sometimes when you talk it’s like a fly buzzing around my head and I just,” he swats once, “can’t,” twice, “get it,” three times, “to stop.”

“Maybe you should get better aim,” you offer coolly as you cross behind him to hold open the front door, hoping to get him to finally walk through it. “Or, better yet, you should consider actually listening to me instead of letting it go in one ear and out the other.”

“But it's like a buzzing little bee in my ear. Gets so annoying whenever you’re droning on and on about responsibilities and my to do list and shit.” He walks past you as he continues his rant, bouncing down the small set of stairs leading to street level. You’ve just turned back from locking the door when he whirls on you. “Maybe if you wore something a little more easy on the eyes, I’d be able to focus more on what comes out of your mouth.”

When you grit your teeth, his grin only grows, backing up towards the black sedan waiting for you both. Your voice is a thinly veiled warning when you start to say, “Eddie –”

“Careful, little Bee,” he opens the door, lifting a boot to rest on the frame. “If you get too aggressive, you’ll lose your stinger for good.” Then he falls into the darkened car, leaving the door open and sliding across so you can get in next to him. With no other option, you stomp down your frustration and climb in after him.

You’re not sure what to expect as the car pulls up in front of an abandoned warehouse out on Long Island. At first glance, it’s a dilapidated looking hole in the wall. From where you’re sitting, you can see the rusted metal roofing, the smashed in windows, exposed beams standing erect to hold up the exterior of the building. You knew the team intended for a grungier, broken down scene to represent the lyrics of the band’s latest album portraying a man’s downfall; however, you hardly anticipated something such as this in the seemingly middle of nowhere. 

  Eddie’s knee spreads further right from where he sits next to you, jean-clad thigh brushing yours ever so softly. Your head shifts to take him in, gaze trailing instantaneously to where you’re connected, stamping down the feeling that wells up and lingers behind your ribs with every fleeting moment such as this. His amber eyes are shrouded behind a pair of sunglasses today, tattooed hand nearest to you sprawled over his bent kneecap. There’s a thought burgeoning in his gaze, ever present before he ever even opens his mouth to speak out his reluctant drawl of, “Guess it’s now or never.”

The two of you slide out the car in unison on opposite sides of the respective vehicle, winding around the exterior and meeting to join in the center of the uneven, grassy ground. His lip quirks upward as he takes in the sight of you like a newborn doe on heels that insist on sinking into the ground, head tipping your way in the only acknowledgement of your presence you’ll likely receive. Inside, you’re immediately greeted by rusted over conveyor belts in the center of the room. There are steel beam stairs leading to an upper deck overlooking the central portion of the interior. To your left is the wall least eaten away by rust throughout the years, silver metal spanning from floor to ceiling, with endless lights positioned around the edges of the parameters to illuminate the set.  

Your head tips to Eddie, standing there disinterested as ever, head tipping up to the sky, visible through the broken up ceiling. Like this, you can see every dark wave of hair that dances along the leather of his jacket, the ridges on the column of his pale throat, the tattoos that creep up high along the neckline of his collar, hinting at intricate detailing beneath. And then that left hand settles over the bridge of his sunglasses and pushes them upward, the glint of his wedding ring catching in your field of view, and you set your gaze on the glowing set before you as you edge closer to your destination. 

The room itself is bustling. People shift and mill about the warehouse, carrying various pallets and crates in hand and positioning them strategically around the room in order to create impactful angles for the intended photos. Workers chat amongst themselves with cameras draped around their necks, clipboards in hand as they mark down a list of tasks you’re not privy to. Once nearer to the group, a woman comes barreling over in a flurry of movement. She’s gorgeous. Deep russet skin, dark hair styled to perfection, a tape measure over her shoulder, and a pair of leather pants curled over a forearm. You catch the glint of her artful gold hoops in either of her ears and the bright makeup covering her eyelids. You admire the rips in her jeans and the fabric of her oversized hoodie as she tuts audibly and glares Eddie’s way. You assume this isn’t the first time Eddie’s run behind schedule, try as you might to get him there as close to on time as possible.

“You’re late!” She admonishes, hand dropping to a popped out hip. For the first time since you’ve been working for Eddie, you catch the slight drop in his steely facade. It’s barely noticeable, just the slightest downturn of his lips, but you capture it all the same, knowing this woman intimidates him in a way no one else seems capable of doing so. She turns to you then, flashing you a megawatt smile. “Erica. Erica Sinclair. I’m Corroded Coffin’s stylist. I’m sure you tried your very best to get him here on time, but you see Edward wouldn’t be Edward if he wasn’t late to everything.”

“Fashionably late, Sinclair.” She glances him up and down, clearly unimpressed by his excuse, and curls a hand around his shoulder.

“Says the man who would wear the same ugly ass Hellfire shirt to every fitting when I first started working with you all. It’s a miracle by my own doing that you know how to dress yourself now. Come on, the team is already paying for your lateness,” she says, and without another word your way, she ushers him to a trailer standing just outside of the warehouse, where you anticipate the rest of the band to be readying for their photoshoot within. 

You’re left to stand in the back of the warehouse, trying to keep out of the way of those working around you. With a low sigh, you wander over to the furthest wall covered in sheet metal and broken in windows, looking out into the grassy landscape. A bird flits on by, drawing your attention, just as a voice sounds from behind you. Jolting, you whirl on the heel and spot none other than Steve himself, and beside him, a man you’ve yet to meet before.

The man’s bearded face is twisted in a scowl as he shouts into his brick of a cell phone. He’s gesticulating wildly, dark curls bouncing with every angry movement. You can only catch snippets of his impassioned rant, but you’ve gathered enough to know that he does not suffer fools gladly. 

Steve stands awkwardly beside the man, wincing on occasion at his booming voice. The scene is not entirely inviting, but you have no choice but to approach when Steve’s gaze catches yours. His face lights up in recognition, and he waves his hand to beckon you near. As you approach, Steve steps forward and briefly pats your upper back in greeting.

“Glad to see you made it! I want to introduce you to our band manager, Murray Bauman.” Steve motions you over with a warm smile until another shrill taunt from the man in question has him flinching away. “But let’s just give him a minute, shall we?” You agree politely and turn with Steve to observe Murray closing out his phone conversation. 

“I don’t care how busy you are, get it done TODAY!” Murray’s barking demand echoes throughout the warehouse, and you stare as he rips the phone from his ear and takes out his frustrations by repeatedly smashing the end call button. He lets out an annoyed breath before pushing his wireframe glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“Fair warning, he can be… bold.” Steve whispers this warning for your ears only. Just another hothead for the collection, you snort to yourself. You deal with Eddie Munson on a daily basis. How much worse could Murray Bauman be? Steve walks ahead of you to serve as the bridge during introductions. Before Steve can offer an explanation, Murray’s annoyed face takes in your approach with suspicion. 

“Who are you? Harrington, why are you bringing this person to bother me?” Murray interrogates you immediately. He regards you skeptically, assessing whether you are worth his time or attention. 

“Murray, this is the assistant I was telling you about,” Steve explains, offering your name as he beckons you forward. “You know, the one who is currently working with Eddie.”

“You mean the one you forced me to hire?” 

Steve casts a furtive glance your way before his gaze whips back to Murray, the stare holding weight as he replies, “She’s lasted four months, Murray.”

Murray looks back flatly as Steve tries to impress some knowledge upon him with a combination of wide hazel eyes and bushy brows. Behind his wireframe glasses, Murray squints. “Four months?” He replies skeptically, and Steve nods slowly.

“Four months,” he enunciates slowly, and you watch the men communicate through shifting facial expressions: Steve’s eyes implore Murray to be civil, while Murray appears exasperated by the prospect of niceties. Eventually, Murray lets out a groan before forcing his face into a perfunctory smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Murray offers, insincerity lacing his every word. His dark eyes cut to Steve as if to ask - happy now? All at once, his mask crumbles and he returns to his brash self. “Do me a favor, yeah? Keep Munson in line. I’d prefer to not clean up any more of his messes.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” you reply. “It’s very nice to mee–”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Murray sounds appalled, disgust written all over his face. His question makes you stutter to a stop. You look down at your outfit and see nothing untoward - white blouse, black cardigan, plaid pleated skirt, dark tights, and chunky heels. It’s simple and professional. It’s safe. Or so you thought. Confused, you look back up to see that Murray isn’t making eye contact with you. Instead, he’s glaring at something or someone behind you. That’s when you register the sound of heavy boots thudding your way. You turn to see who has inspired such a visceral reaction from Murray, but instinctively you know who you’ll find. 

Eddie.  

He strides toward you with Erica by his side. She looks proud of her work, and you can’t blame her. Eddie looks… well, he looks hot. To put it bluntly. Erica has given Eddie a monochrome look that’s enhanced by different textures and accessories. His black suit is striking with its satin lapels and tailored fit. The suit jacket is unbuttoned, revealing the pièce de résistance - a mesh top that leaves little to the imagination.

“You look ridiculous! Where’s the rest of your shirt?” Murray’s question is directed at Eddie, but his scowl is aimed straight at Erica. Any other person would have withered under the intensity of his glower, but Erica seems emboldened by it. 

“Where’s the rest of your hair?!” Erica counters without a moment's hesitation, arms crossed in defiance. “Leave the dressing to the experts. Seriously, Murray. You look like a sad, middle-aged hack going through a divorce.”

“Oh, spare me, Sinclair.” 

Erica and Murray’s jibes muddle with Steve’s pleas to stop, eventually fading into background noise as you observe the man standing before you. 

You have to hand it to Erica - it’s a daring look. The mesh hugs Eddie’s torso in a way that flatters his lithe frame and provides just enough of a glimpse of his tattoos to captivate any onlooker. His pale skin is heavily decorated in ink, and you can’t help but try deciphering what you’re seeing through the mesh. Eddie’s collection of tattoos seems to pay homage to his love of music and fantasy. On his left side, you spy an unusual string instrument with the word bard etched underneath. Just below that, you see artwork of a dagger with a blade made of uniquely shaped dice. By his right ribcage, Eddie has a tattoo of a mighty dragon with wings poised for flight. The dragon’s claws seemingly tear into the supple skin of Eddie’s toned abdomen. You follow the dragon’s scales down, down, down until its tail disappears beneath Eddie’s suit trousers - along with a little patch of sparse hair below his navel. 

I wonder where that tattoo ends. The thought jolts you back to reality. This is your client— your very married client— whose wife has been nothing but kind to you. The guilt and shame overwhelm you. 

You become very aware that you’re still ogling Eddie’s body, and your eyes race upwards to find a more appropriate location to settle. Unfortunately, your retreat to safety is foiled by the glimmer of metal you spot by Eddie’s nipples. You feel flustered by the sudden warmth blossoming within you. Eddie Munson has his nipples pierced. You had been too distracted by his tapestry of tattoos to notice them at first, but now you’ll never be able to forget that the piercings exist. Great going, you think to yourself, you try to avoid staring at your client's happy trail only to stare at his nipple piercings instead. Well done, very professional. 

To your horror, Eddie has caught you staring. He sports a look of faux disappointment with his plump lips pushed into a pout. His tattooed hand points to his face, and he teases, “Tsk, tsk, little Bee. My eyes are up here.”

Your mind races to find a suitable excuse for your staring, or better yet, a way to deny it happened in the first place. Eddie is looking at you like he’s a spider that has caught you in his web, and you break eye contact to save some face. It ends up being the wrong decision because your mortification only deepens when you realize that Murray and Steve have witnessed Eddie’s accusation. Erica has long since departed after her verbal sparring match with Murray. Without her there to act as the target for his irritation, Murray is now laser-focused on you and Eddie. “Hmm… that’s interesting,” he observes, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. 

“What’s interesting?” Steve asks.

“Keep up, Harrington,” Murray offers no explanation and instead dodges Steve’s question with a dismissive wave of his hand. Steve places his hands on his hips looking utterly bewildered. He goes to speak again, but Murray beats him to the punch. “So, Munson… I hear that your assistant has lasted four months working with you. Is that right?”

Murray’s inquiry has an instant effect on Eddie’s body language. His playful pouting has dissipated, and his stance now appears guarded. He crosses his arms over his chest— over the distracting nipple piercings, thank god— as he eyes his band manager cautiously. “... why do you ask?” 

“Oh, no reason at all. Just curious,” Murray replies nonchalantly. “You must be getting along.” You don’t know Murray well at all. However, you do know Eddie well enough to take his weariness as a signal that things could soon become uncomfortable. 

“I haven’t scared her off, yet. If that’s what you mean,” Eddie scoffs. “But don’t worry, I’m still working on it.” It’s a classic Eddie move -  making a joke of something to avoid showing any hint of being rattled. He throws a coquettish grin in your direction, which does not go unnoticed by Murray. Steve looks uneasy, as if this conversation will upset whatever balance you’ve struck with Eddie. 

“I sure hope she isn’t stroking your ego too much.” Murray’s tone is blasé, but his implication is clear. “And you better not be giving her a mouthful.” Steve can no longer stand idly by now that he has finally caught onto what Murray found so intriguing. He swoops in to intervene by physically placing himself between Eddie and Murray. 

“Well this has been fantastic,” Steve forces a laugh out and runs a shaky hand through his brown locks. “Murray, let’s continue that chat about merch, yeah?” He is practically vibrating with nervous energy as he tries encouraging Murray to move. 

Allowing himself to be led away, Murray offers a farewell over his shoulder, “Good luck, kid. If you need anything, anything at all, do not contact me. Bother Harrington instead.” At the mention of his name, Steve turns briefly to mouth I’m sorry as the pair exit. 

Mind spinning off kilter from everything that occurred in the last few minutes, you turn yourself back toward Eddie for a sense of stability. Since when is Eddie something constant in your life? You find a very tense-looking man. The muscles in his jaw are pulled tight as he glares at the spot once occupied by Murray. The moment ends quickly as if he can feel your eyes on him. Eddie annoyingly seems to have gained a sixth sense for knowing when you’re staring. His crossed arms fall along with the seriousness of his expression, hands tucking into his front pockets. The action only causes his pants to inch lower and, for a split second, your eyes are instinctively drawn to the patch of skin now on show. 

My eyes are up here.

The echo in your brain rings out and has your glance jumping back up in horror. Eddie watches every movement and his lips pull between his teeth again, the same face he made this morning when he was trying not to laugh. All you can offer in defense is rolling your shoulders back to look taller and making your gaze sharper, daring him to say something. He lifts his hands in surrender, his lips popping out into a self-satisfied smile as he turns on his heel and saunters back toward the set, whistling all the while. You begrudgingly follow after him.

Eddie’s pace is unhurried as he drags his feet in a clear display of apathy. You spot the rest of the band gathered around a petite woman speaking animatedly and pointing to various spots on the set. She’s captivating with her high cheekbones, loose brunette waves, and eyes like the ocean. Those eyes narrow upon seeing Eddie’s dawdling. 

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” she chides. “We’ve been waiting on you. Hurry it up.”

“Hello to you, too, Wheeler. I didn’t realize you were so excited to see me. I’d hate to disappoint a fan,” Eddie teases with a roguish grin wide across his face. Much to your surprise, he picks up his pace and joins the others in listening to Nancy— whose first name you learn indirectly, thanks to Eddie’s habit of calling everyone by their last names— detail the aim of today’s photoshoot. She explains that the media team will be experimenting with several looks in order to use the photos for both album promotion and touring purposes. 

Eddie turns to you as Nancy begins guiding the others to their spots on set. “Enjoy the show. You sure seemed to earlier.” He winks and turns on his heel to join the others.

Deny! Deflect! Do something!

“I was only admiring Erica’s work! It had nothing to do with you.”  You can see Eddie’s shoulders shaking with laughter, and you know he’s not convinced. To be fair, you haven’t convinced yourself either. It sounds weak even to your ears, like a last-ditch effort to save your dignity. Feeling defeated, you slump over to the chairs lining the wall where you can watch the photoshoot concealed behind the photography equipment. 

Two hours pass and the band is still preoccupied with taking pictures. You watch as they’re pushed and pulled into different poses and settings. The process feels overall repetitive, but Nancy does her best to keep energy levels high. She directs the photographers to get solo shots, which leads to hilarious chaos as the band hypes each other up behind the camera. “Yeah, Harry! Rock out with your Cox out!”  

Despite the momentary amusement, you find yourself mostly bored watching from the sidelines. You’re both surprised and grateful when you see a familiar face enter the set. Robin peers around at the flurry of activity before making her way over to you. 

“Finally some good company,” you breathe out in relief. Robin is delightful to be around, and you mean it when you share your appreciation for her presence. She gives you a sympathetic look before taking a seat beside you.  

“These things can take forever,” she commiserates. “But Nancy will keep them on track. Don’t worry. They’re lucky to have her. She’s brilliant.” Her husky voice sounds especially warm with adoration.  

Just as Robin said, Nancy is brilliant in her precise and methodical approach. She directs the crew in adjusting the lights and backdrops with ease. Her critical eye allows her to observe each shot and offer valuable posing guidance. It’s impressive to watch someone be so in her element. 

You and Robin sit together and make small talk until there’s a break for a set and wardrobe change. Robin excuses herself and makes her way over to Nancy. You notice Nancy’s focused demeanor melt into one of warmth upon Robin's approach, and the sight of their friendly affection for one another brings a smile to your face. Quite honestly, it makes you miss your friends; you’ve been so busy since starting this job that you haven’t found much time to see them.

Eddie walks past the pair on his way to meet Erica, briefling nodding at his wife in acknowledgement. He stops abruptly and looks around at the crowded set before swiveling back to face them.  

“Hey Wheeler, did Robin tell you she’s getting new headshots done for her upcoming play?” he asks. “Do you mind giving her some pointers while we break?”

Nancy brightens at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea. I’d be happy to help!”

“Why don’t you two go somewhere private? I don’t want all these people leering at my sexy wife when she’s posing.” Eddie winks at Robin, who whispers a quiet ‘thank you’ before leaving with Nancy. You’re touched by what you’ve just witnessed. Eddie is actually a supportive and loving husband. The longing hits you unexpectedly. When will it be my turn? Soulmate, where are you?

It’s exhausting to pine for someone you haven’t met yet. You have all of this love to give without a person to receive it and reciprocate. It feels aimless, like being adrift in the dark ocean with no light to guide you home. You’re too lost in your yearning to notice that Eddie has returned and is standing beside your chair.

“Everything okay, Bee?” The question physically jolts you from surprise. You wait for the inevitable teasing from Eddie about catching you off guard. Instead, you look up to find Eddie eyeing you closely. Whatever he sees in you in that moment must cause him concern. His brow is furrowed, and there’s an unexpected tenderness in his gaze. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted by my thoughts.” 

“Well, that’s no good. What did I tell you this morning about having more fun?” Eddie hold his hand out for you to take, and he gently coaxes you to stand. His calloused hands feel rough against your gentleness, but you find it comforting. Once upright, he drops your hand and offers out his arm out as a replacement. “Come on, I’ve got just the idea to break you out of your shell.” 

The two of you walk side by side comfortably, and Eddie guides you to where the band and Nancy have reconvened. The guys are looking up at one of the warehouse walls in deep observation. You squint your eyes, searching for something on the wall that might be drawing their attention. Having no success, you look back to the band and realize they’re each holding something. Are those spray paint cans? Your ears perk up at the sound of rattling as Gareth shakes the can he’s holding. Yeah, definitely spray paint. You send a quizzical look Eddie’s way.

“Murray thought we needed some more edgy photos. He suggested we graffiti the wall for the next set,” he explains. “Wheeler was all worried about it, but… Murray knows best.” He mutters the last part bitterly, shaking his head with distaste. “He might actually be right about this, though.” Eddie steps forward, breaking your linked arms, and snags two spray paint cans from the ground. He holds one out to you, his face alight with mischief. 

You look around self consciously, noting that Steve and Murray are both within view. You fidget nervously and contemplate whether you can let your hair down while on the job. No one else appears to be partaking; only the band members have been given spray paint. “Are you sure about this? I think it’s just meant for you all.” 

Eddie throws his head back with an exaggerated groan. “Come on! Live a little.” He snaps out of his dramatics when he hears the sound of hissing fill the air from the spray paint cans in use. Gareth, Jeff, and Harry have already begun doodling on the wall without him. “See?! We’re missing out on the fun because you’re overthinking.” 

He extends the can out to you once more, gently nudging you to partake. He grins widely when you take the simple black paint from him reluctantly. You can do this. Show him you’re not always so uptight. 

You slowly approach the wall and think about what to paint. You need to show him that you can have fun and keep up with his jokes. The idea comes to you easily, and you get to work on your masterpiece. It’s a simple piece that only takes a few minutes for you to prepare. . 

Eddie is intently focused on drawing a large, crimson devil’s face, and you need to wave to get his attention. When his eyes meet yours, you point to your painting and await his reaction. Previously blank, the wall now sports the image of a humble bumblebee. The bee has two basic stripes, fluttering wings, and most importantly - a stinger. Eddie’s warning from this morning is fresh on your mind. If you get too aggressive, you’ll lose your stinger for good.

Your artistic choice has the intended effect, and Eddie lets out a hearty laugh. He smiles at you, and those brown eyes crinkle at the corners with joy. He looks proud, and it stirs something unexpected inside of you. You find that you like pleasing him.  

  “Atta girl.”

You suppress a shiver that the hum of his voice conjures despite the flippancy of his words.

That photoshoot, though chaotic in and of itself, somehow ended up becoming the calm before the storm for you. A demarcation point beyond which your days became filled with the relentless pursuit of planning a multi-month tour for a moderately famous industrial metal band. Days that had previously been spent ushering Eddie around to meetings with some semblance of timeliness and bringing him snacks when he gets cranky are now consumed by filling a thickening manilla envelope with neat documents, each marked with your precise handwriting as you plan and record each aspect of the trip logistics: contacting venues as per Steve’s direction, managing their hospitality riders, tracking expenses and budgeting for food and accommodations, as well as other minutiae that, frankly, has begun to make that vein throbbing in your neck a near constant companion by the end of the workday. The hours feel long, longer than they do when you’re trying to wrangle Eddie; though the days aren’t physically taxing as you spend them holed up at a desk fitted snugly into the closet you’d reorganized, they are mentally exhausting as those dates, dollar amounts, and contact names begin to tangle up in your head. You spill them out onto your trusty desk calendar, collecting them there as you stretch the strands and detangle them in order to begin weaving together Corroded Coffin’s first tour. It’s a feat you take no small measure of pride in.

Thankfully, during the weeks you spent taming this beast of a task, Eddie and the guys had been occupied almost entirely with rendering the final mix of their album. They’d worked closely with Argyle in refining the balance and levels of instruments and ambient sounds that would create the dirty industrial feel they were seeking with this upcoming release. You’d popped out of your stuffy little closet occasionally to check on them, though they didn’t seem to need much beyond being fed. Eddie, in particular, seemed quite consumed by a desire to see the vision brought to life, and was as serious and engaged as you’d ever seen him with a chair pulled up next to Argyle. That’s where you’d almost always see him when you emerged— long fingers idly twisting chunky rings, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed while he listened carefully and assisted in tweaking such small changes that you hardly could tell the difference with your unpracticed ear. He had a beeper to page you, but through your months of working with him, you’d begun to anticipate what he needs to sustain him daily in this routine— a hot to-go cup of black coffee first thing in the morning; at least half a box of cigarettes in the pocket of his leather jacket, on call for a smoke break; a salty snack around his lull time of four in the afternoon, which you rotate to keep him from getting bored; and next-to-no interruptions except a quick meeting of your gazes a few times a day in case it reminds him to ask you for something. 

And now, finally, as late August adorns the New York streets with haze rising from the asphalt and paints sidewalks with the frantic bustle of summer tourists, your strands of dates and locations and prices and contact names have now been woven together to form a complete tapestry: Accommodations for Corroded Coffin’s ‘95-’96 Album Tour. All the knotted muscles in your shoulders, the bloodshot eyes, the late nights and early mornings had been worth it to get to this point— the point at which the final picture of what exactly that tour would entail has been tied off into neat and tidy knots of thorough efficiency. You stretch your arms above your head and your spine pops with relief; despite the fatigue you feel fuzzing between your eyebrows, you push back your chair almost cheerily and pull the headphones from your ears, prepared pop from the closet and join the men whose tour you’ve just planned.

When you emerge, you expect to see them all in some approximation of the same position as usual— Argyle and Eddie sat in front of the mixing board, Harry hovering close behind, and Gareth and Jeff either mucking about in the studio or sprawled on the couches in the corner where they call out their contributions. Instead, you’re surprised by the presence of an unexpected figure, who acts as the nexus point around which the rest of the band hovers. He’s got his hands stuffed under his armpits and his hip jutted out, one loafer tapping against the floor, though behind his wire-rimmed spectacles he looks less irritated than the last time you’d seen him. I suppose having the tour booked and the album finished would put any band manager in a decent mood, you think, eager to join the throng of smiling men who gather around him.

“What’s on the menu? Anything good? ” Gareth is asking as you walk up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is free food not good enough for you? You eat Smarties in Yoohoo as breakfast cereal. Get a grip,” Murray snipes, and laughter rumbles through the group.

“Oh!” All eyes turn to you at your little sound of surprise. “What promo event are you discussing? Did Steve plan something? I don’t remember seeing it on my weekly agenda notes from him.”

There is a beat of uncharacteristic silence from everyone before Jeff speaks— not quite tripping over himself, but with an extra edge of enthusiasm you don’t typically hear in his voice. “No, no,” he assures you quickly. “You didn’t miss anything. It’s a celebration for finishing the album, not a promo event. Just a get together Murray planned for us tomorrow.” He lifts his brows, eyes warm and sincere, if not a little too wide. “You gonna be there?”

That familiar feeling in your chest— that subtle deflating that sinks into your stomach, reminding you of cafeteria tables lacking in saved space and friends reminiscing over shared experiences you hadn’t even been aware of— weighs you down inside as you look into Jeff’s kind face. It stings, the knowledge that you hadn’t quite been forgotten or excluded, but only just— only because you’d emerged from your makeshift office and wandered into the conversation at just the right moment. Had you not, you would have been none the wiser, and it makes Jeff’s question— ‘You gonna be there?’ — feel awkwardly like you’ve invited yourself.

Still, you choose to save face. “Oh, gotcha!” you say, turning to Murray. “Where is it?” 

The neutrality in Murray’s expression in place of his typical sardonic scowl almost makes you feel worse. “My place. You been to the Upper West Side?” You nod. “You can show up anytime after seven. I’ll have Harrington shoot you the address, kid.”

You brace yourself against this second blow— being called ‘kid’ as if you really are just Eddie’s babysitter, as if you hadn’t just single-handedly coordinated an entire tour’s-worth of hotels and restaurants and activities— and smile. “Thank you,” you say, avoiding the dark brown eyes of one curly-haired menace.

Because if there’s pity there, too— pity like the kind you felt in Jeff’s too-wide smile or Murray’s soft nod— you think you might just burst into hot, utterly humiliating tears.

On Friday night, it takes some time for you to dress and even longer for you to resolve to actually attend the celebration party. That last-minute invite has rocked your sense of self, manifesting most clearly in the lack of clarity regarding your outfit. Clothes are strewn across your typically-orderly room like a cyclone of indecision has torn through it, and what you’ve chosen feels barely adequate: silver jewelry, simple mary janes, and a black silk blouse that flows like water against your skin, tucked loosely into the waistband of your bootcut blue jeans. You’d settled on the blouse chiefly because of the color, as if with some subconscious desire to blend in with the men you work with so that maybe next time they won’t forget about you.

After a good nights rest unencumbered by that looming task still hanging over your head— since you’d finally completed it, to your relief— and some consideration, you’d reasoned that the reason for your late invitation was probably not malicious. And when you’d checked your email to see that, not even twenty minutes after your conversation with Murray had Steve emailed and sent you details and the address, it essentially confirmed it. Sure, it certainly still stung knowing that you hadn’t been thought of from the get-go, but you chalked it up to your newness and the fact that you’d been cloistered in your ‘office’ so often lately.

You’d concluded the mistake was likely innocent, and as you stand outside the front door to Murray’s apartment hesitating to knock, you find yourself desperately hoping you’re right, and that you haven’t made a mistake by coming after all. This job is already so different from any you’d had before— nowhere else had you spent so much time intimately intertwined with the details of your employer’s life outside of a professional context. Spending time at Eddie’s apartment to wash his dishes, coordinate his meals, take him to his appointments, fetch him the things he needs… look after him… it all feels more domestic than professional, though in this role, really, those things are one in the same. It blurs the lines and leaves you strangely yearning for inclusion, leaves you feeling more vulnerable, as you finally press your index to the doorbell, than you’d honestly prefer.

A flash of panic hits you as you hear the approach of footsteps beyond the door. You prepare yourself for the sight of Murray’s face half-twitched into a reluctantly-polite smile as the rest of the men stare at you from their seats, drinks dangling from their hands as their eyes turn quickly from you and back to one another.

But when the door swings open, you’re instead greeted with the sight of Gareth’s poofy brown bangs and pink cheeks as he smiles so widely at the sight of you you’re sure his face must ache from it. “She made it!” he exclaims into your face, breath puffing loose and acrid with alcohol as he hooks an arm around your shoulder to pull you inside amidst a rousing chorus of elongated ‘ay’s from the rest of the band.

Your apprehension dissolves like seafoam as he pulls you eagerly inside. 

The interior of Murray’s apartment feels as though you’ve walked into a time capsule. You aren’t sure whether the mid-century modern theme is because Murray is partial to the style or because he hasn’t bothered updating the furnishings since the seventies, but judging by his half-unbuttoned ‘party’ shirt striped with deep brown and cream— displaying no little amount of bushy chest hair within which a gold chain is nestled— you figure it’s probably the latter. You look around with interest at the furnishings, intrigued by the design’s ability to feel both high end and also warm, quite a contrast from the modern crispness many favor nowadays. Gareth doesn’t give you much time to sight-see as he leads you towards the party’s epicenter in the living room, though you do notice that the walls are a bold burnt orange, accented by geometric wallpaper and bookshelves filled with vintage books and knick-knacks likely gathered on Murray’s travels. As you pad over the shag carpet in your mary janes, your gaze is drawn to the men crowded on the low-slung sofa around a sleek, glass-top coffee table. The air is hazy with smoke, which wafts from a cigar resting in a crystal ashtray near Murray’s elbow, and the record-player in the corner is crackling with jazz— Miles Davis, if your memory serves you correctly. 

All-in-all, it’s nothing what you expected Corroded Coffin’s album-completion party to look like, down to the way they all perk as Gareth leaves you to hover near the side of the couch while he plops back down in his spot on the floor. It’s all the familiar faces you would expect, and no one else. Murray, Steve and Argyle sit on low-profile armchairs pulled up beside the coffee table where cards and poker chips clearly indicate they’re in the middle of a game; Jeff and Gareth are seated together on the floor, and they lift their drink glasses to you when your eyes pass over them; and finally, Harry and Eddie are on the couch, knees spread wide and comfortable as they slouch, though they straighten at your approach. The mens’ greetings become a cacophony of friendly voices you can’t possibly discern as they overlap happily, and you accept them with somewhat shy nods but a pleased smile. Harry immediately shifts over towards the couch’s arm, and when he notices, Eddie does the same, narrowing his knees and shuffling over to the opposite side to make room for you.

It’s a clear invitation, one that makes warmth bloom in your chest as you step carefully over Harry’s shoes to sink onto the low velvet couch between them. 

“Did you find the place okay?” Steve asks, and you meet his hazel eyes as you reply,

“Yes, thanks. Actually, my aunt lives—” You find a cup suddenly thrust into your fingers, and you close them hastily around textured glass, glancing down at the amber liquid inside. “What is this?”

“Whiskey, my dude,” Argyle replies, settling back into his chair with a lopsided grin. “Bottoms up.”

You stare at it for a moment skeptically, already balking from the burn in your throat. But, like sharks in the water, they sense your hesitation; as if with one mind, the guys lean forward to goad you with some light ribbing, flashing brows, and wide grins. All except Murray, that is, who seems more impatient to get back to the poker game as he grouses and sighs impatiently. 

In the end, it’s Eddie’s elbow in your side and his brown eyes catching yours that do it— his gestures are loose with alcohol, and yet more gentle than you typically see him. “C’mon, little Bee.” He smiles, and something catches in your throat as it brightens his flushed face. “Time to get buzzed.”

Your head tosses back of its own accord as you laugh, tickled by the pun; when you look at him again, Eddie looks inordinately pleased with himself. “All right,” you concede; the guys cheer as Murray shakes his head. And though it burns just as much as you knew it would, when you clink that glass down against the coffee table, coughing slightly as Harry claps you jovially on the back, all you feel is warm. Warmth in your belly, warmth against your sides where Harry and Eddie sit beside you, warmth in your cheeks as you settle back against the cushions and look around at the friendly faces that surround you. 

Now that you’ve been christened with your first drink, the group turns back to the game of poker your arrival had interrupted. You watch with interest as they take up their hands again, hiding your giggle behind your hand as Gareth dramatically flops backward in a sprawl on the floor when he loses to Jeff, who rakes the pile of chips in the center gleefully and dramatically into his corner of the table. “I put thirty dollars on that hand; come on, man,” Gareth whines, but Jeff pays him no mind nor offers any mercy.

“D’you know how to play?” Eddie asks you, and you shake your head. 

“We can teach you,” Harry offers. 

“Oh, I’m fine watching—” You begin to protest but it’s cut off almost as quickly with a sharp movement from Eddie, who snatches a handful of chips from his pile into his broad fist, heedless of the way some bounce to the shaggy carpet below. You’d felt warm in your belly, at your sides, and in your cheeks, but more than anything else, you feel that warmth in your heart as Eddie presses some of his poker chips into your open palm.

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to play,” he says matter-of-factly. “Just have some fun.”

You smile at him, a gentle curve of your lips to match the way he pats your wrist before lurching forward to pick up his fallen chips and receive his next hand. 

Throughout the games of poker you play, you find yourself both having the fun Eddie had instructed you to and simultaneously watching him, marveling at the way the haze and jazz and laughs and velvet couch have… softened him, almost. He's clearly drunk— more than a little glassy-eyed, with flushed cheeks and loose, heedless swinging of his wild curls and his limbs as he celebrates victories and laments losses— but it’s accompanied by more easy smiles and cackling laughs than you’ve heard from him in the last few months combined. He’s full of life tonight, but without as much biting edge. And you can’t help but think that to see him like this, so relaxed, so happy…

It’s nice. Nice in a way that makes that feeling bloom again— the one you’d been feeling more often since the photoshoot. You shake it quickly away.

His joy fuels the others, you notice. You suppose it makes sense; Eddie’s boisterousness and overwhelming energy tends to dictate the tides despite others’ attempts to direct situations otherwise. And as the night wares on, that easy looseness eventually devolves to become a bit more wild. Of course, it doesn’t take much for some of the others to follow suit.

Somewhere between the umpteenth hand of poker and your third round of drinks, Argyle wanders into Murray’s kitchen and helps himself to the bottle of champagne chilling in an icebucket, most likely prepared by Steve— you can’t see Murray bothering with that. Steve perks up when he comes back over, rubbing his hands on his trousers and rising as he reaches to take it from Argyle. 

“Thanks, Arg,” he says, but his gratitude ends up being a little hasty. Because rather than passing the bottle into his waiting hand, Argyle instead begins to shake it with a jerky flail of his arm, forcing Steve to retract his fingers, who huffs affrontedly. “I was gonna say something,” he protests, and while the exasperation is easy to read there, it’s overshadowed as Eddie leaps suddenly off the couch, crouching slightly, face alight with mischief as he circles Argyle on the rug. Once Eddie’s up, everyone follows suit— Jeff and Gareth scramble to join him, and you and Harry follow close behind, your hands clasping your elbows as you eye the proceedings with cautious amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, Steve, we all know what you’re gonna say,” Eddie drawls, but the wide smile on his face takes the edge off the sarcasm. “‘What an incredible accomplishment, we’ve worked so hard, the culmination of many months of effort—’ blah, blah, fuckin’ blah.” Eddie cackles as he flings his arm out to smack Steve companionably in the stomach, making his PR manager stumble slightly due to the accidental force behind the gesture. “Allow me.” 

Eddie flourishes and bows dramatically, his wild curls splaying around his shoulders as he jerks his head up to address the group— his face is flushed, pink rather than pale, with a vein popping on his forehead, and you can’t help but shake your head in reluctant, wry amusement as he declares, “Fuck bitches, get money, make metal, and raise fucking hell, boys!”

And with that— without any forewarning, really, besides a slanted smirk— Argyle pops the cork from the champagne bottle, spraying Eddie directly in the face with it.

You don’t know why you wouldn’t have expected it, but you stiffen with a little jerk as Murray roars, “Fuckin’— dammit, Argyle, not on the goddamn rug—!”

His ire is quickly overtaken by joy that fills the room as Jeff and Gareth jump towards the spray, mouths open wide in wait; ever obliging, Argyle coats their faces, too, directing most of the alcohol into their mouths but playfully directing it toward you and Harry too. You squeal and giggle as fizzy drops coat you lightly, turning into Harry’s broad shoulder for protection as the spray gradually weakens until it’s nothing but a dribble dropping to the shag.

In the ensuing silence, Steve looks at Murray sympathetically. “I’ll bill him for the carpet cleaning,” he promises, wringing his hands until Murray’s face calms from apoplectic to merely deeply aggravated.

You’re briefly worried he may pop an aneurysm until Argyle— the only one of you still bone dry— distracts everyone by pulling something casually from his pocket. “Oh, brochachos. Almost forgot. I got this advance copy of the album finished last night.”

The boys explode in a flurry of potent outrage and glee. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us sooner?!” Jeff shouts, and you’re taken aback to see the most even-keeled member of Corroded Coffin shake his producer by the shoulders. 

“Relax, dude,” Argyle drawls. “S’not fully mastered yet, but it’s close enough.”

And when the needle scratches to a halt on the record player, replacing smooth, dulcet jazz with the rhythmic drum beat of what you know is the boys’ favorite song on the album: ‘Closer.’

It also happens to be one of the best tracks to dance to, and the boys take advantage of that, though their movements— mostly just flailing limbs as they jump and headbang— are really just some crude approximation of dancing. Yet that doesn’t detract from the glee of the moment as, at some point you get pulled in, too, finding yourself in the middle of it all— laughing and swinging your head and shouting along with them. “I wanna fuck you like an animal!” you scream, chest effusive with bubbling joy as Eddie doubles over in wild, joyful laughter at the crudeness of the lyrics shouted in your alcohol-hoarsened voice. You find yourself swung by hands, twirled under arms, spinning and sing-shouting until your throat goes scratchy and your head a little fuzzy from all the activity.

As the song ends, Eddie steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, and you smile up at him appreciatively but are surprised when he doesn’t remove his hand. Instead, he tips his head, jerking it toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he says, and you see his lips move but barely hear his words underneath the booming of the next track, which echoes so loudly it nearly rattles the knick-knacks on Murray’s shelves. 

You trail after your employer as he leads you to the kitchen, sloppily filling an empty glass with water from the sink and handing it to you without any explanation. The intuitiveness of the gesture surprises you, as does the way he hovers nearby while you take tiny sips to soothe your parched throat. 

Eddie leans a hip against the counter, stuffing his hands in the back pockets of his dark jeans and looking you over appraisingly. It’s the first time you’ve really gazed at him all night, and as he appraises you, you don’t feel that instinctual need to hide, the impulse dulled by the warmth buzzing in your veins. Instead, you just appraise him back, eyes trailing over the silver of his handcuff belt buckle, the chain at his hip, the soft, faded black of his band t-shirt, your eyes lingering where he’s clearly torn the sleeves off, evident by dangling threads that tickle the alabaster of his pale biceps. His curls are frizzier than before, still damp and sticking to his neck from the champagne, and his plush lips are pinker than they typically are— shiny and wet as he licks across them with a swipe of his tongue. 

You feel a distinct stirring deep in your belly and wrench your gaze from his mouth to his eyes, face heating as you anticipate a smirk and a crude remark, or perhaps a pointed comment about your wandering gaze. Yet Eddie’s face is calm, almost a little hesitant as he opens his mouth to speak— seemingly entirely consumed by what he wants to say. “So, you know we’re going on tour,” he says matter-of-factly, and you can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of it.

“I think I’ve gathered that. I mean, I’ve only been working out your accommodations for said tour for the past few weeks now,” you retort with a little smirk, and his lips curl in a lopsided grin at your sass. You anticipate a rebuttal, but Eddie continues without comment.

“Well, I know it might come as a shock that I’d be admitting this, but, ah…” He scratches the corner of his lips with one dark-painted fingernail, mouth stretched wide before he continues abruptly, “things have been running a little smoother since you came around. ‘Specially once you got the hang of washing my silky drawers right.”

Your growing pleasure at the praise flattens along with your expression at that final comment, though it eases when he smiles at you, crooked but wide, as eager as you’ve ever seen his smile be. “So,” he says with an air of dramatic finality, “how’s about you take that laundry service on the road?”

In what is almost more to goad him than in genuine disgust, you wrinkle your nose, and your chest warms again when he chuckles huskily, knocking you with his elbow lightly again. "What I'm try’na say is... you wanna come on tour with us?" 

When you think back to the way this party began for you— with a split second of awkward silence and a hastily extended invitation, clearly late-to-come— you hadn’t anticipated the way it would end up. In that moment at the studio, you couldn’t imagine being welcomed in so readily, sprayed with champagne, twirled underneath their arms, and cared for with poker chips and glasses of water. You hadn’t thought you’d be here, standing with Eddie Munson in his manager’s kitchen, being invited by him personally to go on tour with the band. 

It’s confirmation that you do have a place amongst them, and it’s also exactly why you took this job in the first place— the opportunity to explore beyond the limits of your current world.

"Yes,” you reply, and you can’t help it when your voice comes out honey sweet. “I'd really like that." 

"Well, good,” Eddie huffs good-humoredly, “‘cause you kinda have to whether you like it or not. But I'm glad I don't have to twist your arm after all." 

You nod, and something small— small and tenuous, trickling like briny water— flows between you and Eddie as you gaze at one another. "Well... thank you," you say, your voice soft and almost shy as you look up at him.

Eddie blinks, looking a little taken aback by the gratefulness in your expression. Quickly, his eyes jump from yours to track around the room as he says distractedly, "Sure, little Bee— Hey, Murray!” His hoarse voice rises in a shout as he skirts around you, trailing out of the kitchen as he calls wolfishy, “Where's your top shelf shit? I wanna get fuckin' blasted tonight." 

You watch him lope off toward the living room again without sparing you another glance. Quickly, you drain your water glass, leaving it in the sink and wandering back into the fray until you find yourself elbow to elbow with Steve. 

“So—” Your eyes find hazel as Steve regards you with a friendly, knowing smile. “You ready for that travel I promised you?”

Another wild cackle— one that, after tonight, threatens to haunt you in your sleep— draws both of your gazes. For a moment, you and Steve watch as Eddie sneaks up behind an unsuspecting Gareth, grappling him around the neck and tugging him into a headlock as the other man sputters and kicks at him. All at once, they seem to you much younger than their years, and it makes you consider the question.

Are you ready for the travel Steve promised you— travel where wrangling these unruly rockstars, and one in particular, is about to become even more of your daily existence?

You find, as Eddie shoves Gareth into Jeff and licks across his bottom teeth with a manic grin when the two recover and face him, readying themselves to retaliate, that you have no damn idea whether you’re ready or not.

Dear Soulmate…

The early morning of the first day on tour, your feet carry you around the familiar walls of your apartment, taking in the comforting sights you’ve woken up to for the past year. Angela watches from the kitchen island, eyes full of unshed tears, an unspoken awareness settling over the room. Your life has changed since becoming Eddie’s assistant. It’s a reality you’ve accepted for some weeks now, but it feels real now—more than it ever has before. Because now you’ll be traveling on tour with the band, with him, moving across state lines you’ve never roamed. It’s a world of endless opportunity ahead, new sights to see, places to explore. It dawns on you that your home in New York City will be a far and distant memory for the next months you’ll be following Corroded Coffin around the country.

I’m leaving on tour with Eddie and the band today. Isn’t that crazy? I’ve never been this far from home – traveling was just never something I had time to do. I was always so focused on school, on trying to make my parents proud, on trying to be perfect. And now, I’ll be traveling with a metal band across the country! I never thought this is where I’d end up, but I’m trying to learn to embrace the unexpected (it’s so scary though!). I definitely didn’t expect Eddie to be the one inviting me. Although, he acted like he really had no choice in the matter, it’s still strange. 

Angela helps roll your multiple suitcases out into the main living area, mouth a wobbly line as you push them over onto their side and make sure you have everything you need one final time. Heels and other shoes, boots and sneakers in one duffel bag, each one a proper pair, freshly wiped down for any imperfection or defects. Another bag holds all your toiletries, makeup products, and hair tools should you ever need them. You unzip your suitcases next, peering in at various tights, dark skirts, dark colored sweaters, dark wash jeans for your off days. 

Eddie is… well, we’re still working on our relationship. I think most of the time he feels like I’m annoying him on purpose, but I’m really just trying to do my job. He’s not used to being on a schedule, which is a little wild to me because that’s all I’ve ever known. And maybe that’s what makes him push me away so much. His wife says I need to push back a bit, but I’m worried about keeping my job… I think I’ve grown to like working for him.  

Angela walks you down to the street, helping roll one of your bags down and onto the pavement. Cars and taxis speed by in a kaleidoscope of color, but your eyes latch solely on the rolled down window of the car sitting on the curb’s edge. 

            Eddie’s thre with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, those dark sunglasses of his shrouding his eyes, tattooed arm on display in the bright sun of the morning. An inky tapestry of intricate detail, etched with countless stories and meanings he’ll never divulge. In the front is Hopper, his usual bored demeanor in place as he opens the driver's side door and walks around to join you and your roommate. The back trunk of the vehicle pops open with a small beep, your heart hammering away as the heftier man helps hoist your things into the back and latches the car back into place. 

“Ready?” Eddie calls from the car. 

You’re on the clock, sure, but you still remind yourself to quench the desire to raise your middle finger in a vulgar gesture, annoyance writhing in your gut. Instead, you focus your tangle of nerves on the girl standing before you on the street, with her shiny blonde hair and mournful expression on her face. She takes a slow step forward, arms coming to curl around your shoulders. There’s a suddenness of the realization you won’t see her until you return to New York for the holiday season. For the last year you’ve woken to the comfort of the four walls of your bedroom, the warmth of your apartment, and your friendship with Angela. 

“Go crush it,” she says, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, head close to your ear. “Take all the pictures. Try and enjoy yourself. New York will be here when you get back. I’ll be expecting as many phone calls as possible, and postcards of all the places you travel to! I want to hear about it all.”

He’s challenging, and yeah he calls me Bee (which I am STILL certain is short for Bitch despite his reassurances otherwise) but the work genuinely feels rewarding. Also, I am really enjoying getting to know the other guys in the band. They’re not friends, no, but they’re kind enough. And who knows? Maybe Eddie will come around. We don’t need to be friends, but I would like it if one day we could become colleagues, at the very least.

Eddie regards you with little interest, still unchanging in his distaste for any time before 12pm, as you clamber into the back of the car with him. He does not shift whatsoever to accommodate your presence, only haphazardly flicks his cigarette onto the concrete below and dips his head at Angela. The blushing blonde raises her hand in a nervous wave, an uneasy smile crawling across her features as he glances along her frame, telling her to have a nice rest of her day. It’s almost comical, though no laughter bubbles up from you, the easy kindness he shows her way; meanwhile, he regards you most days as though you’re no more than a pest when he’s not relentlessly flirting with you. Hot and cold, dependent on his mood on any given day. A bee to be swatted away. You suppose it’s understandable—knowing your mere presence is a reminder of the mistakes he’s made in the public eye. Huffing audibly in your mild upset, your fingers lift to wiggle in the air to wave goodbye to her as Hopper slides the tinted windows up to keep the air conditioned temperature within the vehicle, obscuring her from view. 

I wonder about what you’re doing a lot these days. It’s summertime, the season of endless possibilities. Are you traveling? Maybe you’re on a beach somewhere tropical. Maybe you’re celebrating some good news. Or, maybe you’ve taken up a new hobby. Angela and I tried hot yoga last week (never again), so I suggest you stay away from that one. To be honest, and maybe it sounds silly, I just think about you a lot. With everything changing, it seems like knowing you’re out there is one thing I can rely on. Even if I haven’t met you yet. 

Your fingers drop and curl around your notebook tucked within your pocketbook for safekeeping, trailing along the pages littered with words meant for the one person in the universe who will understand you better than anyone. It brings you comfort as Hopper peels away from the road and into the bustle of New York City traffic. 

Outside, taxis speed in and out of lanes, regardless of bodies surging forward in intersections, heedless in pursuit of their destinations. The car jerks and thumps over numerous manholes and metal grates around street corners, Hopper’s fingers reaching across the center console to raise the volume on the radio. 

One of Corroded Coffin’s songs is playing through the elaborate speaker system. There’s a spark of pride that springs to life within you. It’s not one of the newer, to be released singles—no; but there’s a sense of excitement for them, knowing how hard they’ve worked to get where they are, especially because you’ve witnessed the effort they put into their craft first hand. 

Eddie seems unphased by his own voice on the radio — as if it’s a normal occurrence for him, and you suppose it is. While you’re still adjusting to your new life following alongside a public figure, he’s had some time to become acclimated. He’s experienced sold out concerts, screaming fans singing along to his songs, crowds surging forward to try and get closer to Corroded Coffin. He’s been on the receiving end of good and bad press that paints him in a caricature of himself; one that’s larger than life and not entirely accurate. 

And you’re once again reminded you’re here with him because you’re his assistant when his thigh accidentally brushes yours as the car jolts over a particularly large bump, skin burning at the point of contact, seated beside him in the quiet space around you, watching as the city blurs behind your eyes. 

“Remind me of what you have planned for the day,” he drawls, and you’re grateful his stare is presently focused on looking out his window and not on your face. He doesn’t capture the deep inhale, nor does he catch the slight gathering of tears on your lashes that you swat away with the pads of your fingers, brought upon by the suddenness of your change in scenery and leaving Angela. 

It's as easy as breathing after that. With his cold, quiet words a distraction from the sadness swirling in your gut, you swiftly breeze through the mental list you woke with. You remind him you’ll arrive on schedule at six, where you’ll get on the tour bus around seven after having a meeting and breakfast with Murray and the rest of the band. After that it’s a two and a half hour drive into Philly. It gives you all enough time to get situated once in the city and for the band to relax a bit to get into the proper headspace before getting ready for their soundcheck in preparation for the first concert scheduled later in the evening. 

You tamper down and try to hide the thrill of excitement that buzzes in your veins at the prospect of seeing the guys all perform together. It’s been one thing watching them in the studio for the months they’ve been working on the album, and another all together to see the culmination of all their hard work come to fruition. However, it also brings up a new bout of anxieties over what exactly will be required of you while on the road. Thus far you’ve run errands and kept Eddie on schedule for meetings, interviews, photoshoots and other appearances. Following him across state lines and watching him on the stage, however, seems like a new, daunting task you’re hoping to tackle head on. 

“Ever been to the exotic Philadelphia?” Your head jerks as the words break through the silence, those dark eyebrows of his furrowing in confusion when your mouth opens and closes, no words falling freely from your lips. “I’ll take that as a no.”

You swallow thickly, pushing aside the indignation that burns and builds at his words. His inked fingers reach up to grasp the sunglasses perched on his nose, sliding them down slowly to fold them away beside his thigh. You’re no stranger to Eddie’s features at this point. Those amber eyes of his, emotive and magnetic, immediately capture your attention. You regard him carefully, just as he is you, his gaze trailing your features in a slow perusal. When you finally speak, it’s a soft utterance of, “I haven’t really ventured too far out of New York.” 

He chuckles gleefully, mouth drawn upward enough where your eyes catch on the dimple in his cheek. He’d be prettier, you think, if he scowled less. Like this he’s vibrant and bright, and appears much younger than his twenty nine years. For a moment you wonder what he was like before all the fame, before the party lifestyle, before the allure of the industry sunk its greedy teeth into him and spat him right back out. His head shifts toward the streets, and your eyes drop down to your lap, fingers toying with a frayed edge on your pocketbook. You hear him then, voice a husk of, “Looks like it’s time for my little worker bee to finally leave the hive.”

My first stop is Philadelphia. I’ll definitely be sure to take a bunch of pictures to share with you someday! I’d like to try and draw a bit too while I'm gone, but who knows. I haven’t really had much time for that lately with the new job. If I create anything worth keeping, I’ll definitely save it so I can show it to you. 

You offer him an easy smile, returning your gaze to the world outside the vehicle, exhaling deeply when Hopper pulls up into a parking garage. He mutters briefly that he needs to go check on the tour bus and leaves the two of you to your own devices. You can hear the echoes of voices closer to the tour bus, whoops and calls from the other band members reach your ears through the softly parted window as they catch sight of Eddie’s vehicle. Vaguely, you even catch the utterance of your name in the midst, teasing in nature, urging the two of you outside. 

Before you can even say a word, Eddie’s opening his passenger side door and getting out of the car, leaving you behind with your things. Exhaling deeply, you move to open your own side and nearly fall out when the man in question tugs the door open and extends a hand in your direction. There’s a brief clash of stares while your eyes drift from his to his palm, uncertain as to what he’s doing. 

Unamused, Eddie huffs out, reluctantly explaining, “So you don’t bust your ass like you did your first day working for me.” His eyes drop to your largely inconvenient heels. You’d only worn them because you weren’t sure what one would wear before heading off on a concert tour. Noting your apprehension, he continues, “Bee, I’m not going to pull my hand away at the last second. I can be a gentleman, you know?”

You snort, wrinkling your nose. “I didn’t doubt it.” It’s not the fullness of truth, but you suppose for your client, it’s better to abstain from telling him that most days he is quite determinately, or at least it seems that way, driving you to the brink of hysteria. It’s probably also best to not remind him how not very long ago, before you hired him another maid you insisted he keep this time, he would make you clean his brownstone top to bottom. A task that also included tending to his clothing and highly suspect underwear on more than one occasion. 

Deciding to appease him, you envelop his palm within your own and allow him to help you down onto the concrete below. Your feet wobble a bit from the drop, but he’s there with a gentle hand at your bicep to steady you, before the moment fizzles and he pulls away all together. You walk side by side, though not together, to join the rest of the band where they stand in an excited huddle around the tour bus. 

Even the vehicle itself is larger than you anticipated. It looms above you, imposing and impressive, signifying the success the group has seen in the time they’ve been in the media spotlight. You have little opportunity to think about it, however, because the boys greet you with warm welcomes and hellos, trading their normal handshakes they’ve given you for hugs. A recent development, brought about merely by spending as much time with them over the months as you have. Jeff in particular lingers a little longer just as Murray calls the band into a circle for a meeting, muttering a “Happy you’re here,” before rejoining with the rest of his band mates. 

You’re not left alone long in that parking garage, luckily enough. Steve’s there to urge you off to the side when he pulls up in his car. He’s a little worse for wear, acknowledging his lateness with a wave to the guys and a pleading look shot your way. He requests you follow him, putting yourself out of earshot from the rest of the men. For a brief moment, you worry you’ve done something to muddle your position. Stomach dropping at the thought you might have unintentionally said the wrong thing to Eddie, a vendor — maybe even Robin, but that fear is quelled immediately when Steve clears his throat, his hand coming to cup around the back of his neck, kneading the muscle beneath his fingertips. 

“Look, you’re doing great. I’ve told you more times than I can count on two hands how grateful I am you’re here and everything, but I need you to know that the Eddie you’ve seen thus far is nothing like Eddie on tour. He’s — ��

Your mouth opens briefly to ask what his meaning is behind the clear warning, just as Eddie appears out of the blue and claps Steve on the shoulder, chuckling brightly as he asks, “Ready to go, Bee?” He looks to you imploringly, and you haltingly meet his stare before shifting back to Steve’s kind features. He tips his head, dismissing you, and you join at Eddie’s side, following him in the direction of the vehicle. Murray shoots Eddie a stern look as the two of you walk along by, your eyes darting to the Corroded Coffin logo stretched across the entirety of the exterior. “Here is your home for the next few months.” 

You’re uncertain as to what you might expect. You’ve never been on a tour bus before. The closest thing you can attribute it to is a coach bus for a school field trip back in your early education days. What greets you as Eddie turns back to extend a hand once more and assist you in climbing up onto the first step is greater than anything your mind might have conjured. 

He’s not kidding by his assessment that the bus will quite literally be your home for the duration of the tour. At the head of the impressive vehicle belies Hopper’s station, full of buttons and displays you’ve never seen before, and a dashboard with a hanging Corroded Coffin logo dangling from his rear view mirror. The burly man raises his hand in a wave as you and Eddie pass, heading into the lounge area that follows immediately. Your eyes are drawn to dark red couches, like that of a red wine, with black pillows strewn about. Nestled in front of the couch is a table pressed against the corner wall, new magazines displaying photos of the band and a headline that details the upcoming tour. 

Deeper into the vehicle is the adjoining kitchen, all in the same color scheme of dark black furniture, with red and silver accented bits. Eddie shows you around the space, opening the fridge for emphasis, showing you how to use the different amenities, before moving on down to point out the bathroom. Lastly, you’re brought into the bedrooms. Or rather, one spacious room lined with bunk beds on either side of the bus. 

“Normally I like being on top, but when it comes to sleeping I prefer the bottom." Eddie says suggestively, gesturing to the bed on his right. Your head shifts his way, taking in the little alcove he’ll be sleeping in for the night. He waves his hand to your left, smirking. “That’ll be yours. In case of an emergency.”

“In case of an emergency,” you repeat slowly, placing your pocketbook down on your assigned bed as you settle down beside it, positioned specifically across from Eddie’s in the event he requires you for anything. You quickly reach inside and jot down a few sentences in the unfinished letter, affixing a bright floral sticker to one of the corners. 

I have to go. We’re about to leave, but I just wanted to let you know what I’m up to. I’ll talk to you soon. Wouldn’t it be fun if we met in Philly?

As you shut your notebook, you realize you never heard the rest of Steve’s harrowing warning. I need you to know that the Eddie you’ve seen thus far is nothing like Eddie on tour. Your eyes narrow in piqued curiosity as you take in Eddie, that now familiar lanky form of his flopping down against his own mattress. He nods his head in your direction and you wave back numbly. 

You hear it then. That soft howling in the distance, a creeping sense of something looming with no name to place on it. 

You offer him a soft smile, and he throws a pillow over his head, settling down to nap.

Steve’s warning is suddenly very far away from your mind. 

[widow-maximov]

Can I request a Natasha x Avenger!female reader, where the team wins Infinity War, so NO BLIP AND THANOS IS DEAD AND ENDGAME NEVER HAPPENS. And Reader wants to marry Natasha but Reader asks Fury’s permission and even Alexei and Melina for Natasha’s hand in marriage. And JUST SOMETHING sweet and cute! And at the end a wedding happens and so Natasha and Reader are now Avengers BUT also wives!

(I’ve always seen Fury as Natasha’s father figure, and it’s a crime that there was barely any scenes that proved that! 😤😤)

Thank you!

Risks

Pairing: Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warning: Pure fluff, a little bit of angst, little bit of smut (18+)

Summary: You never thought proposing could get so complicated.

Word count: 10.5k (oops)

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Life as a hero- As any hero is a risk, no matter the job, doctor, nurse, police, Avenger like yourself and even with risks you still chose this path.

None of these jobs have it easy that's why it's always highly appreciated, almost by most, but that doesn't matter. Out of everything you done for your team,

This risk that you want to take is the hardest out of all of them, ask your girlfriend to marry you, now anyone would say that it shouldn't be that hard, if you know that this person loves you they will say yes but that's not the issue.

Issue is, asking the family to give the approval even if they don't have to, here is the thing your girlfriend had two families, her crazy Russian family and the Avengers including Nick Furry, that guy scares you.

You realised that you wanted to be with Natasha for the rest of your life and you knew she was your person, but not long ago, when the two of you started to date, it was chaotic.

If you really think about it, even before dating the two of you were like fire and water, two different people who liked doing opposite things, like Natasha liked to train, be on top of her game, whilst you liked to party every night, just to relax.

You didn't even think about being chained to someone at the time, but Natasha did, as soon as she laid her eyes on you she knew she wanted to be with you.

You were confident of what you wanted, and somehow in the end through hard work you always had it in your hands, she liked that because that was her in some ways.

She liked how opposite yous were, even if she was more work concentrated she knew that she would spend her time with you anywhere you went.

Ever since dating you, she managed to convince you to train with her, she loved to stare at you break a sweat whilst she barely did anything.

Something about seeing your muscles flex made her apricated that you were with her and not anyone else. She knew how easy it was to lose someone so she did everything to keep you.

And she managed because you were planning a proposal for the woman you love, the woman that can only make you feel those butterflies even after 8 years of dating.

The woman who managed to open your eyes that it is nice to have someone and know to have their support through everything, that was Natasha, she always had your back.

You can even remember the exact day where you realised you actually loved the redhead, it was the day yous met your parents, they always pushed the subject of you being gay aside.

Always ignored it so with time as you grew up you thought that they finally got over it, you remember that day so vividly..

You finally managed to find a day off and agree to dinner with your parents as your sister was coming into town, you thought it was a good opportunity to take Natasha with you.

If you knew what was going to happen then you would've never taken Natasha with you, it would've spared you the embarrassment but unfortunately you couldn't see the future and walked right into a trap.

You and the Russian have been together for couple months, it was fresh but you thought it was finally time for the redhead to meet the two people that brought you into this world.

Natasha agreed with you, actually she was excited to try to get in their good books, she wanted to know more about you and what the best way of doing so than hearing embarrassing stories about you.

She has seen some pictures of you as a baby but she always wanted to see where you grew up, it made her happy to know you wanted to share that with her too.

You were nervous and Natasha could sense that as you were quiet in the car on the way there, it was different, something you never thought you would ever do.

She grabbed your hand as the two of you were parked outside of your house, you could see that your sister was already here by the car parked where you used to.

"If you aren't ready Y/n, we don't have to do this" Natasha reassured, she never wanted to pressure you into anything.

You finally peeled your eyes away from the house across the street as you looked the Russian in the eyes "I'm ready, its more are you?"

It wasn't a lie, you felt ready or at least you told yourself that in order to show up here with the redhead, you rarely visited your parents, work life and everything else got in the way.

At first they kept trying to make you come over but with time they gave up, it allowed you to live a little without constantly get bombarded to come and see them when you couldn't.

"It can't be that bad" Natasha tried to convince herself as well, she was nervous too.

You gave her a half smile as you both gotten out and finally found the courage to knock on the door, you squeezed Natasha's hand a little as you heard the locks of the door being opened.

For your luck, your sister opened it, she was the only person in your family who accepted you, your brother does too but he doesn't talk to you anymore.

He doesn't contact anyone from the family and in some ways you wanted that too but you still had a sister who you loved too much to abandon her.

You let go of Natasha as you hugged your sister "Finally you're here"

You smiled at her words, as you pulled away, you were about to introduce Natasha but your sister beat you to it as she pulled her in for a hug "Ah you must be Natasha, you are so much prettier in person than on pictures with Y/n"

The redhead let out a laugh "Thank you, but you're stunning too"

You raised your brows at them "Okay, quit flirting with each other, I am hungry"

Natasha smirked as she finally moved away from your sister "Are you jealous детка (baby)?"

You rolled your eyes "In your dreams Romanoff"

Your sister smiled, she never seen you like this, you were happy and she loved that because you rarely were happy "Don't worry Y/n/n, I only have a small crush on Natasha"

You looked over at your sister who found it amusing to tease you "I am sure your husband will be thrilled to find out about this"

She gasped "You wouldn't!"

You smiled as you reached for your phone "Oh I would"

Your sister launched at you as she tried to get the phone out of your hand, Natasha had a smile across her lips because her and Yelena were the same.

One teased another, but minus the gun pointing and choking each other to near death, she titled her head at the thought and shrugged it off as your mother came out to see what is happening.

"What in the world is happening here?" She questioned as she had a confused expression across her face.

You and your sister parted rather quickly, back when this has happened you would end up bent over a stall and got wacked with a belt for messing around.

You both mutter an apology and then you finally greeted your mom, it was a little awkward but definitely you could last in the house because of it,

As you parted, your mother frowned "You brought a friend to a family dinner?"

You looked over at Natasha who was about to say something but you managed to cut her off "I will get to that in a second mom, lets walk inside and not have dad wait for me"

This has taken back Natasha, she had a lot of questions, why didn't you just say she was your girlfriend? Were you embarrassed? But that was cut short when you took her hand in yours and pulled her towards where you assumed was your dad.

As soon as you saw him you let go and walked over to him, giving him a gentle kiss on her cheek and a hug as a greeting form from you, this time Natasha walked behind you, she wanted to get involved.

As you parted, Natasha extended her hand to shake his "Hello Mr Y/l/n"

He had a gentle smile across his face "Ah hello, I remember Y/n mentioning someone coming, i thought she was going to finally bring a boy but this is okay too"

You sighed as you faced the other way, realising that nothing changed, in this moment you didn't even want to tell them you're dating the redhead but now you had to.

"Oh, I think you have it wrong-" She was going to correct him but you butted in.

"How about, I show you something upstairs Natasha?" You wanted to take her hand but you knew it would make this more hard.

She gave you a frowned but either way she nodded and followed you up to a room, she assumed it was your room by the looks of the interior.

As she closed the door, you immediately attached yourself to her as you placed a sweet kiss on her lips, not wanting her to speak for now, it was harder to explain.

She pulled away from you with a smile that you always managed to put on her lips, she wanted to say something but once again your lips got in the way.

You pulled away as you whispered "No talking"

Natasha nodded, wanting nothing more than to just kiss you and feel you against her again, she treasured this side of you in her heart, she loved when you were needy of her attention because she had a lot to give.

As her hands slid down to your lower back you knew that what she wanted, you knew you wanted it but not here, this house wasn't sound proof and the redhead knew how to get out every little bit of sound out of you.

You smiled in the kiss as you pulled away but Natasha had different plans for you, she moved her lips down to your neck, wanting nothing more than to leave a mark.

You chuckled as you pulled yourself away from her to stop her from marking your neck "Not here, if my dad sees this, I don't see it end well for you"

Natasha nodded, fully aware of the consequences but still wanting to taste you, her hands found your hips as she pulled you back into her, giving you another kiss.

Just as she was about to push you against the wall and just do whatever you allow her to do, someone knocked on the door, you sighed knowing that this would happen.

Natasha still pushed you against the wall, pushing a leg between your legs, making sure to cover your mouth with her hand to prevent any moaning to escape.

She opened the door as she peaked out to see her sister on the other side "Hey, can you tell Y/n that dinner is ready to be served but they are waiting up on you both"

Natasha nodded as she closed the door, and looked back at you, eyes on the her the whole time as you felt light friction of her leg against your centre.

A muffled moan managed to escape from your mouth, the redhead knew what she was doing, she unbuttoned your jeans as she slipped her hand into your panties.

Pressing her palm against your warm centre, your back arced of the wall a little, another knock came but this time someone spoke up "Y/n come on down, father is getting impatient"

Natasha moved her hand off your mouth as she inserted two of her fingers inside you "Coming!"

She smirked, she didn't even manage to properly work you and you were already close, it didn't take long for you to reach your peak, crumbling as your legs gave in, but Natasha held you with her body.

You knew if yous don't go now, they will come inside here, so you placed your hand on Natasha shoulder "We need to go"

She nodded as she took her hand out and cleaned it off, as she watched your reaction, as much as you wanted to push her on your bed and show off, you couldn't.

You button up your jeans and walked out of the room having the Russian following you, as you took your places at the table, and had your mom equally spread the food amongst everyone.

The conversation was random and you kept getting more nervous at the thought of telling them, that was until your mother finally did it for you "So are you going to tell us why you brought a friend to dinner?"

You swallowed the nerves that were sitting at the edge of your throat and nodded before finally telling them, you put your hand on the table where Natasha's was.

Taking her hand into yours "I brought Natasha here because I wanted her to meet yous and finally for yous to meet her, as she is my girlfriend"

Your mother frowned "Well we know shes a girl and a friend"

You shook your head "No mom, I am dating her, we are a couple, like you and dad"

Her frown was still there "I don't understand, you're sleeping with a girl?"

You nodded "I wouldn't say it like that but yes"

Natasha for a moment felt proud, that was until your mother words shot that pride "You're telling me that instead of finding yourself a nice boy to marry in the future, you're still playing around in this- this phase of yours?"

Your father had a stone cold face at the news, which worried you a lot, his silence always had you worried, your sister was annoyed with them.

"What is wrong with them being together?" Your sister questioned with an angry tone.

Your mother wasn't letting down "What did I do to deserve this? Where did I go wrong? Why can't you just be normal like your sister and marry a boy!"

Your eyes started to sting at their words, you didn't expect this, you thought they might just disapprove but not this, Natasha narrowed her eyes at them.

Your dad stood up "If you choose this path to go down then we must do what we can, this is your punishment, you are no longer my daughter"

Your heart broke at his words, you always looked up to him as a kid, he always protected you from harms way and your mothers insults, your sister stood up as she banged her hands on the table.

"This is ridiculous! This is not harmful at all, father you are crossing many lines here" Your sisters tone had a warning to it.

In the heat of this, you stood up and ran to your room, as you locked yourself in there. your sister and Natasha both looked back at you, knowing that one of them needed to go to you.

Your sister didn't waste a second as she followed you, Natasha stood up as she looked at your parents "you two should be ashamed that you think treating your child like that is acceptable"

Your mother rolled her eyes "This is your fault, if it wasn't for you brainwashing her, she would've finally married some hard working boy"

Natasha rolled her eyes in disbelief and anger at their words, she knew this was a battle not worth winning, she hurried upstairs just like before but she was met with a sight of your sister pleading for you to let her in.

She saw Natasha, her eyes beamed "Please, maybe you can get in"

Natasha nodded as she walked up to the door, your sister walked down to reason with her parents, see what is wrong with them, as Natasha leaned against the door.

"Hey детка (baby) can you open the door for me?" She expected to be waiting out here and beg you.

But the door opened to reveal you with trails of tears rolling down your face, she was quick to advance towards you, her arms snaking around your body, puling you close as you let out a sob that you tried to suppress.

She took couple steps in still holding you, closing the door with her foot as she slowly moved with you to the bed, so you could sit down, as you did, she placed herself in front of you, holding your hands, occasionally letting one hand fall to your thigh to give it a reassuring squeeze,

Natasha understood why you tried to keep her quiet, you wanted to spend a moment with them before everything blew up like it did now, "Y/n/n"

Her voice made you look up, suddenly feeling embarrassed for her to see you like this, Natasha wiped your tear with her thumb, she never seen you this upset before, it hurt her because all she wanted was to take that away.

"This is so embarrassing" You finally spoke up as your voice was small at first.

"Not at all дорогой (darling), I think you're brave for walking out because I would be near to killing him" She spoke as she caressed your cheek.

That caused a small laugh to escape your mouth, but it dead as soon as it came.

"Can we hug? the way I like it?" You asked and without any hesitation, she nodded.

As she sat back down, opening her arms for you and you being more than happy to hug her, as you sat on her nap with both of your legs of either side of her hips, letting one of her hands play with your hair and the other gently slide her hand down your back, knowing how much that always calmed you down.

Your chin was resting on her shoulder, as more tears rolled down your face, you felt guilty, how could you let Natasha witness such abuse from them, you thought she might take you as a weakling.

"I'm sorry" You cried in her arms.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Baby, you have me to protect you now, they can't do anything to you" Natasha was quick to reassure you, she didn't want you to think that she would think less of you, not everything is under people's control she knew that.

She placed a kiss on your cheek, whispering as many reassurances you needed, you moved away from her shoulder, finally looking into your partners eyes.

The emerald orbs that stared back right at you, made you realise that you loved this woman, you loved that she had your back, you felt safe with her.

Yous managed to finally stand up, you both came to an agreement that yous were going to ditch, take your sister with you so she can meet the team instead of staying here in this toxic place.

As Natasha was going to walk out first, you pulled on her hand as you pulled her back, wanting nothing more than to kiss her, so you did, you felt her hand on your hips, giving it a light squeeze.

But yous were interrupted by your parents bursting inside, your father boiling at the sight of you kissing a woman, "This will not happen under my roof"

He walked over as he grabbed your arm but Natasha stopped him, grabbing onto him "Don't touch her"

He narrowed his eyes and tried to get out of her grip to kick you out but he underestimated women, especially Natasha, her grip tightened "I said don't touch her"

"I don't like to repeat myself, so you're going to hear it once, you and your wife are going to move out of our way as we go, if you try anything I promise you, I won't be your only enemy" She was scary, no one really understood that until they experience it first hand.

Your mother was livid, she stood there shocked "You're just going to let her talk to us like that Y/n?"

You looked at her "Yes, because for the first time in my life, someone else other than my siblings stood up for me, I love her, mom and if yous can't accept that then that is your problem"

Natasha wanted more than anything to look over and show her true reaction but she had to appear terrifying in front of your parents, she let go of your dad as he stumbled back slightly.

You held onto Natasha's arm, intertwining your hands together "If you're gonna disown me then know that it's for the best, I was doing okay without yous and I am sure I will be better now"

They were taken back, usually you just sat there and took their abuse but this time you didn't, you put your foot down and along with the Russian and your sister, yous left.

As you and Natasha got into the car, those words couldn't leave her mind, you loved her, a feeling she was scared to show in case you would run away.

Before Natasha started her car, she looked over at you, you looked at her with confusion to why yous aren't moving off, she had a gentle smile across her face.

"Why are you smiling like that?" You asked with a smile across your lips.

"What you said in there- Did you actually mean it?" She asked, being scared that maybe you just said it to get them off your back.

You knew what she was referring to "Of course, I love you Nat"

She beamed at your words, her hand found itself on your face, pulling you in for a kiss, wanting to take a moment to soak those words in "I love you too"

Of course, that day was something else but in the end it made you realise that she was the person who was going to be by your side no matter what.

Ever since that day, your parents didn't contact you, even if they disowned you, you still wanted to give them one more chance, even if your sister thought otherwise.

Your proposal was delayed as Thanos became an issue, even if everything went well, he died, everything changed, Natasha changed, not in a bad way but the way she saw life was a lot different.

Many died fighting Thanos and that only made her want to be more prepared for the next threat. There was slight distance but you knew her better than anyone else.

So you decided to propose to her, not waste anymore time that has already passed. You managed to convince her to spend some time with the team instead of constantly training.

As you secretly went to meet with her parents, they were going to visit soon but you had to do it before Natasha would spend most of the time with them.

They didn't live too far but you still had to steal one of the jets from the compound to get there, as you arrived, you were met with a party, which was shocking as Natasha always explained that they never liked that type of stuff.

As you walked in, no one even noticed that you were there, that's when you noticed the team, which made you more confused, why were they there in the first place?

You walked up to Sam, who looked sober but that quickly changed when you saw his eyes held that intoxication look "What are you guys doing here?"

He smiled at your presence "We are here to party!"

That made the people raw at his words, it wouldn't been funny if you weren't in a rush to find Natasha parents, but of course before you could do that, she appeared out of no where.

"Oh my goshhh, it's my girlfriend, how are you my sexy детка (baby)" She was quick to snake her arm around you waist pulling you closer to her.

You had a smile from her affection, but you knew she was drunk from the way she spoke "What are you doing here Nat?"

She smiled "Tony wanted to have a party and I knew Alexi needed to chill out with us so here we are"

You laughed it off but that stopped when what happened next shocked you, as you tried to gently get out of Natasha's grasp, she grabbed your right ass cheek with her hand and the other she smacked pretty hard.

That caused a gasp escape your mouth as a smirk appeared on hers "Natasha! Your parents are around"

She nuzzled her face into your neck "God I regret not fucking you sooner, I miss you"

It would've worked if there wasn't a chance for everyone to witness her wanting to publicly fuck you, you managed to push her away, leaving her just wanting more.

"Nat babe, maybe later, I am in a rush" You spoke to her as you kissed the tip of her nose.

She frowned "Where to?"

"I am looking for someone" You told her half truth, not wanting her to find out.

She nodded as her attention was pulled away from you by Bucky and Yelena challenging to do shots "I want to join!"

That was your chance, you needed to find Alexi and Melina before they got drunk and started to do anything the team dared them to, as you walked around the house that you were slightly familiar with.

You were able to locate Alexi by his strong voice and accent, he was somewhere in one of the rooms, you managed to find him with Melina in the same room, they were discussing something.

"I am telling you, something is wrong with them" Alexi voiced his concern to his wife.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but it was a pure accident, "It does seem like it, maybe we should question them about it?"

You walked in, knowing you couldn't keep listening to their conversation "Alexi, Melina, I was looking for yous"

They both faced you with smiled across their faces "We were just talking about you, which is why we need to talk to you"

You nodded "Okay, sure, what's up?"

Melina gestured for your to sit down to which you did, she then crossed her arms "we are worried about you and Natasha.."

You frowned "Worried about us? Why?"

"We noticed that Natasha hasn't been that in love with you anymore" Alexi spoke quite bluntly which earned him an elbow in the side from Melina.

Now you were worried "What do you mean? You guys think she doesn't love me anymore?"

Melina gave you a reassuring smile "No. It's just that she seems more distant than normal"

It still made you worry, you came in here to ask her hand in marriage and now that they said that, it made your thoughts spiral "I mean it kinda makes sense, we haven't slept with each other for months, she only gets touchy when she drinks"

You covered your face with your hands "Oh god, I feel so embarrassed now, I came here to ask yous if I can have her hand in marriage, I want to marry her but if this is true then she will reject me"

"At least you won't humiliate yourself now" Alexi commented with a laugh that was cut off when Melina smacked the back of his head with her hand.

Melina kneeled in front of you "I think you should go for it, it's only our assumption that could be wrong, and I really hope it is because she is always so happy with you"

You looked up at her "So you two approve?"

She nodded with a smile "Of course, we ship yous to the moon and back"

Alexi kneeled too "She is right, I approve because my little girl is finally happy and stressed free and if yous haven't rubbed private parts together then don't-"

Melina pushed him as he fell to the ground which made him shut up and stop making this situation any worse "Don't listen to him, sometimes he just doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut"

it made you laugh to which you nodded and decided to leave them two be to their own stuff that they wanted to do, even if you still had slight doubt about this but you took a deep breath and tried your best to not think about it but fully focus on making this perfect.

You were ready to ask her, but you remembered Nicki, the scary man that would kill you if you broke Natasha heart, you knew he would be around here, controlling the team if anything went out of hand.

Even if he always said that the team wasn't his responsibility, but you knew deep down that he cared for everyone here, you were able to locate him pretty fast, he hang around Natasha.

You walked up to him as you leaned on your side "Hey Fury, can we talk somewhere quiet?"

He eyed you before agreed and allowing you to follow him out in the balcony "What did you want?"

"I know your busy with the party but I have an important question to ask" You spoke quite sternly, you felt that he liked those type of conversations.

"I know Natasha is like a daughter for you, she speaks about you all the time and it's nice to know that someone is looking after her too, so I felt like this was important to her too" You started to explain, not wanting to waste any more time.

"Get to the point Y/l/n" He crossed his arms as he kept his eyes on your face.

"I want to ask if I can have Natasha's hand in marriage, she means the world to me and after Thanos and everything, I have wasted enough time to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with her" You asked the dreading question, wanting it to be a positive outcome.

He kept quiet as he stared into your sole for a whole long moment, until he cracked a smile "Of course! I approve, marry her Y/n, she deserves to be happy, just like you"

You were quite taken back from his sudden approval, you thought it was going to be a lot more harder but nevertheless you weren't going to argue against that.

He gave you a quick hug and hurried you out to contiune planning your proposal, which you did, but not before you dragged Natasha with you back to the compound.

The whole time her mouth was just attached to your skin, but the words of Alexi kept replying in your mind, maybe it was time to talk to her about it rather than hide behind planning.

As the new day came, you found yourself sleeping in the bed alone again, you sat up and noticed a paper by your phone, you took it "We have to talk, meet me by the jets at 5PM"?

You frowned, can't she talk to you like a normal person after waking up? Not leave letters, even after asking Fury and Melina along with Alexi for Natasha's hand in marriage, you still had slight doubt.

What if they were right, that she was completely out of love with you, what if her distancing herself from you was a sign that you decided to ignore?

You didn't want this doubt, god no, you wanted to believe that she was so in love with you, that she has spent most of her time imagining how it would be to spend the rest of her life with you.

You decided to leave the note where it was, changing in the bathroom and heading to see if the team left for a mission to justify why Natasha was gone in the morning.

But as you walked in the living area, everyone was there, literally the whole team except Natasha "Hey"

They all looked at you, blank expression before smiling hugely at your face "Hey"

You could see by Sam's eyes he had a hangover, pillow over his head to block out too much noise and light, causing you to laugh at him "Someone drunk wayyy too much"

He pointed his finger up as if to warn you but you knew he wouldn't do anything, you sat down next to Steve "Are there any missions for today?"

He shook his head "Uh no, Fury knew that most of us was going to be drunk so he decided against assigning anyone for the time being"

You nodded, this confirmed that Natasha ran away from you in the morning, not wanting to talk to you but leave a note, you didn't even want to talk to her anymore.

So you stood up, as you walked off to spend your time elsewhere, and that was with Maria Hill, you and her were closer than now, well closer before you gotten with Natasha.

It was obvious to everyone that she had a big crush on you, you weren't stupid, she told you herself before you dated Natasha but you never felt that towards her to which she respected.

Even if she still flirts with you and sometimes you flirt back as a joke, it's nothing serious, as you sat on her desk, waiting for her to stroll in and start her work, you knew she would love your company.

It didn't take long for her to walk in, she didn't notice you as her head was down too busy in the papers in her hand, you took that as an opportunity to scare her.

You got off the desk as quietly as you could and walked towards her, with a smile "Hill!"

The sudden scream made Maria jump, she swung with the papers in hand, if you were any closer she would've hit you, you raised your brows at her "Are you planning to kill someone?"

She closed her eyes for a brief moment to take a breath, which helped her calm her heart, she opened her eyes as she was finally met with your grinning face.

"Someones you act like a dick" She answered as she gave you a glare.

You shrugged "How else am I suppose to annoy you?"

She shook her head as she proceeding to walk forward but forgetting that she dropped something, making her trip and fall straight ahead, you not having enough time to react, made you both fall to the ground.

Maria on top of you, your noses close to touching which indicated how close yous ended up to each other, you started to chuckle " Never took you as a top Hill"

That caused a blush to spread across her cheeks "Seems like you're lacking more than that"

You smirked "Are you just going to stay like this, pinning me down or are you going to get up?"

She rolled her eyes, getting up and giving you a helping hand, somehow yous still were close, the issue was the this was purely innocent interaction, but as Fury walked past and saw yous being way too close.

He raised his brow ever so slightly at the scene and walked on, as you took couple steps back and sat on the desk again, it was pleasant to be around Maria again, as much as Maria tried to distant herself, she missed you, your friendship that you could only offer her.

You didn't spend too much time over there, you still had other stuff to do, you didn't have a completely day off, you still had to do some reports that Steve asked you to do and then help out Wanda with dinner, even if you weren't going to attend it.

And that's what you did, after 5 hours of being busy, you lost track of time, you wandered into the balcony, looking at the slowly setting dark that consumed the city.

Whilst you stood there, Natasha walked into Maria's office, in hopes of finding you here, that's where Fury saw you last, being way too close to the brunette.

Natasha hoped that she wouldn't see something that would kill her inside out, she trusted you but that didn't mean her doubts disappeared.

She saw no one but Hill, sitting by her desk, with a light on as she was reading something over, that caused the redhead to relax for a moment.

"Where's Y/n?" Natasha asked as she had her arms crossed.

Maria barely looked up to know that it was your girlfriend, she shrugged, which caused the Russian to huff in slight annoyance "She has been here, where did she go?"

This made Maria look up "I don't know, I don't have a tracker on her.. But it seems like you do"

The Russian rolled her eyes "Just keep your distant Hill, I am dating her not you"

Maria crossed her arms that were placed on the desk "By the looks of it, I have more of a chance to score a date than you do, even if you're dating her."

That caused Natasha to frown, you must've told Maria your doubts instead of the redhead "Well sorry to disappoint but she doesn't feel the same about you"

Maria shrugged "That's how it all starts but then you spend time with someone and those feelings form.."

Hill's face lit up in a teasing form "Oh wait, didn't that happen with you and Y/n?"

Natasha knew she shouldn't let that get to her, she knew she should just talk to you and get this sorted but the way Maria seemed so confident that you would form feelings for her, made her worry, she couldn't lose you..

The redhead rushed out, hoping to find you with the team, even if you weren't there the first time she was there. You didn't notice that you missed the time you were suppose to meet Natasha, even if you noticed, you didn't think that you would turn up.

Not after her leaving you in the morning with a note, maybe it was because you thought she was going to tell you that she didn't love you.

As you stood on the balcony, leaning on the railing, looking down and just admiring how each light turned on as more dark it got, that's when you felt some kind of warmth next to you.

You looked over to see Yelena, you didn't say anything and just looked back at the city but that didn't stop the blonde to say something "So you're hiding here"

"Not hiding at all, I'm just admiring the city" You answered her still with your eyes glued to the scenery in front of you.

She nodded "Well, Natasha is looking for you.."

You laughed through your nose "Seems like she's making other do the searching for her"

Yelena was taken back by your bitterness "Why are you angry with her?"

You looked down at your hands "I know she fell out of love with me, I don't know if I can face her, knowing she is going to leave me"

Yelena was clearly confused "Uh, I don't know who told you that but she looked worried, she mentioned Maria for some reason, she was desperate to find you so I don't find she was going to break up with you."

You frowned "But Alexi said-"

Yelena rolled her eyes "If you listen to him, you'll end up in jail like him so whatever he said about Natasha's feeling shouldn't even matter, he doesn't know anything"

Yelena was right, if anything she would know more about Natasha than Alexi or Melina, she closer to the Russian, you looked away from her as you covered your face with your hands.

"God I am so stupid, normally I wouldn't even pay attention to that, but she has been so distant lately that somehow it all connect" You explained as you moved your hands away.

Yelena nodded "She didn't tell me much but from what I know, it's just best to talk to her"

You knew Yelena would never tell Natasha's secrets, she had her back which made you adore their relationship as siblings, you smiled at her and nodded.

"Well then I guess this is just the perfect timing, I already asked everyone, can I have Natasha's hand in marriage" You stood straight as she faced you.

You shrugged with a slight eye roll "Technically this applies to parents and all that but you are important to her and frankly to me too"

Yelena smiled "Thank you, now do you want to me go get her or do you want to go?"

You sighed, knowing that you had to finally face her "I'll do it"

She nodded with a delicate smile, knowing that was the best decision, she waved you goodbye as she went off to annoy Kate and let you finally go after Natasha.

You took couple breaths in, as you walked out in the hall and made your way towards the living area, knowing that Natasha was going to be.

As you walked in, Natasha was pacing from one point to another which caused a small smile to spread across your lips, Yelena was right, she was worried.

Tony rolled his eyes "Can you just stand still, you're starting to annoy me"

She looked over at him with a glare "Shut up! What if something happened to Y/n? How am suppose to find her?"

Bucky's eyes founds yours from across the room "There is no need for that"

Natasha looked at him confused, she was going to open her mouth to question him but it was like a bulb lit up in her head, catching on what he meant, her head whipped to where his eyes were.

Finally laying her eyes on your beautiful face, she stood glued to her spot, not being sure if she should embrace you, but she followed her gut feeling.

She walked up to you and pulled you in for a hug, closing her eyes at the feeling of you hugging her back, you didn't feel stiff at the affection that was a good sign to Natasha.

Steve looked up now noticing the sight in front of him "Finally"

Natasha pulled away, still holding you with her arms, rolling her eyes and looking back at you "Can we talk?"

"Please Y/n take her away from us, its just pure torture" Tony pleaded with you as he stood up to get another drink.

You chuckled at his tone and nodded to Natasha, taking her hand in yours and pulling her out to the balcony that you were there not long ago.

Yous stood close to each other but not too close, giving that space in between each other, you leaned your side on the railing, not wanting to say anything first.

She took your hand into hers "Look, I am not going to lie to you, I went to Maria, Nick told me you was there as she was all over you, and she said something that me wonder.."

Your brows furrowed in confusion "What did she say?"

Natasha shook her head "I don't want to ruin your friendship with her but she said she has more of a chance to have you than me.."

Your confusion was still there, you did tell her your doubt about what Alexi said, it must've gave some sort of hope for Maria, the Russian continued "And it just made me wonder if you have any sort of feelings for Maria"

There was obvious fear in Natasha's eyes, it hurt you to see that, you instantly shook your head "No, of course not, I have stated to her clearly that I don't feel the same way about her."

"I know, but after all you can form those feelings after spending time with someone" She voiced her concern to you.

"Maybe so but I never saw Maria as more than a friend, I don't think you realise how much you mean to me, I was going insane thinking you fell out of love with me after what Alexi said" You raised your face a little, more from trying to make it clear to the Russian.

Now Natasha had the frown "Alexi? What did he say?"

You sighed "I noticed that you distanced yourself from me Nat, and I went to Melina and Alexi yesterday, for something.. They noticed your distancing too and Alexi said that you don't seem to be that in love with me anymore"

A single tear slid down your face at the thought of Natasha leaving you, she used her free hand to wipe that ear, making her look up at her with her thumb and index finger.

"I swear to god that man has it coming from me" Natasha shook her head slightly at the thought of Alexi messing everything up.

The corners of your mouth tugged up slightly, Natasha moved her hand as she placed it on your cheek, her thumb slightly caressing your skin "I love you. I love you. I love you"

You smiled "I love you too"

"God Y/n I love you so much, that it hurts, I can't imagine my life without you, I am sorry that I distant myself, I just needed some space after everything with Thanos, I regret not talking to you about it, please don't leave" Her other hand cupped the other side of your cheek, holding your face as she stared into your eyes.

You gripped her upper arms "I wish you did speak to me, we would've avoided this big misunderstanding but I am glad we did now, I never want to leave nor do I want to lose you"

She moved her face towards you, leaning her forehead against yours, you felt the moment was right, you moved your hand to your back pocket, you carried the ring with you in case there was a moment that made everything perfect.

What else was perfect than you and the redhead standing under the stars, having no doubts or worries, just love, that love that drove yous both to this.

You pulled away, making Natasha drop her hands from your face, you looked down at the ring, making the redhead look down too, the instant confusion that spread across her face made you understand that she had no clue.

You cleared your throat as you kneeled down on my knee, putting the little black box in front of you, and opening it for Natasha to see the ring.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova will you do me the honours and marry me?" You asked, having no doubt that she was going to reject you.

She smiled at you using her full name "I will marry you Y/n, now and a million times if that's what you want"

You took her hand after taking out the ring out of the box and slipping that bad boy on her finger, watching as she admired the knew jewellery on her finger.

She leaned down as she placed a kiss on your lips, making you both sigh at the feeling, knowing how long it has been since yous properly gave each other the attention.

You stood up, not breaking the kiss, knowing that any longer and Natasha would be dragging you away to the bedroom and if you were honest, you would follow her without a complain.

That's when most of the team rushed in with phones in hands, making you pull away and get hugged by everyone at the same time, squeezing you even closer to Natasha.

It was a good day in the end for you, and even better to come as you and Natasha now had a better thing to do and that was to plan your wedding.

Something you never thought you would be doing in your life but here you were with your love, happier than ever, standing in the dressing room of the wedding venue, worried that you didn't look as perfect as you wanted.

Yelena and Wanda stood guard of yours and Natasha's rooms, so yous didn't slip out and see each other, they even scold yous separately that it's bad luck but it all felt uncomfortable without the Russian being by your side.

There were some complications that made you worry, this day was suppose to go perfect, it is suppose to be perfect but with the cake missing and the avengers spread out thin, Wanda along with Yelena had to help out.

Even if Peter was suppose to keep an eye out on your rooms, he was busy himself, so Natasha took her chance as she tiptoed to your room, opening it to reveal you in the most stunning dress that she has ever seen.

You fit in it like butter on toast, you looked like a queen in her eyes "Woah"

You turned around quickly as your eyes widen at the sight of your wife to be standing in front of you "Close your eyes! you're not suppose to see me!"

Natasha rolled her eyes but still had a smile "I don't care, I want to see my wife"

She walked up to you taking your hand in hers, feeling that happiness and those butterflies in her stomach at this moment, just like at the beginning of yours relationship.

"I would marry you right here" Natasha blurted out, her eyes dropped down ever so often as she couldn't stop taking you in.

You had a blush across your cheeks at her words "We are going to be married in couple hours"

Natasha shook her head "I want it now"

You chuckled "Well you have to wait baby"

She pulled your hand to her mouth as she held eye contact with you "I love you"

You had a huge smile across your lips, you loved this Natasha, the Natasha that wasn't afraid of being vulnerable with you, she had her heart displayed right in front of you each time and it called out your name.

She kissed up your hand until she reached the sleeve of your dress, she moved to your collarbone then to your neck and giving your lips a teasing taste of her kiss, leaving you to want more.

"I can't wait to kiss you in front of everyone" She whispered as she was inches away from your lips.

You smirked "You mean in front of Maria?"

Natasha tilted her head slightly, closing her eyes "Her too"

You would've rolled your eyes if they weren't closed already "Just remember that I am marrying you, not her"

That had her smiling like an idiot "I know, she will never find out the places that makes you weak in the knees"

You was going to open your eyes to look at her but before you could do that, she pulled you in for a promising kiss, one that promised a future that you could only dream off.

Her hand was on your lower back, pulling you even more closer if that was possible, your hands were on her neck pulling her in too, it was like a spell so compelling that you just couldn't stop.

She pulled away, smirking, knowing that it worked, that you would be staring at her hungrily after this, and that's exactly what was happening.

She pulled away from you entirely, making you miss her closeness within seconds "I better get going before they notice I am not in my dressing room"

You nodded "Go before I lock you in here with me and I won't let you out"

She smirked as she nodded, walking towards the door, she turned once more "Think of me when you're trying to relief some of that stress"

There it was, that feeling at the bottom of your stomach, with the way she spoke and put that imagine in your head just turned you on more but you had to control yourself.

You shooed her out and made sure to lightly touch up the makeup that Natasha manage to ruin, as time went by everything was ready, the only thing that was to do was for you to walk out.

You hoped to see your parents, your dad who was going to walk you down the aisle, it would make this day even more better knowing that they finally accepted it.

You sent those invites, you waited for some sort of answer back but nothing, you still had slight hope as you stood now in from to the door that was blocking you from seeing Natasha.

You wanted to cry but you knew you couldn't, you needed to be strong and enjoy this evening, this was an important day for you, you accomplished so much and you were proud of yourself.

If your parents didn't see that then that was their problem even if that made you sad, you sighed as it was the time to walk out, Steve was suppose to walk you out but instead Maria appeared by your side.

You was a little confused but decided to not question it, she was your friend, you hooked your arm with hers and slowly started to walk towards where Natasha stood.

Her eyes never leaving you, you wanted to just walk over to her and kiss her right there and then but you knew better, "Isn't it ironic that you're walking me down to watch me get married?"

She rolled her eyes playfully "You know Y/n, I love you and I want you to be happy, even if that's not with me. Not a single bit of me would rather be there, butt that's how it must be and I can't change that"

Yous stopped at the end, you turned to her and hugged her "Thank you"

You pulled away as you looked into her eyes "Maybe under different circumstances and universe, you would be the one waiting to marry me, but not in this one"

She nodded with a sad smile but there was nothing she could do, she let go of you and finally let you focus on the most important part of this day.

Natasha trusted you, and she learnt to trust Maria too, she knew that the brunette would never try anything without your consent and that's what she valued in Maria.

As you stood in front of the Russian, all she could do is stare at you. nothing else matter, just you in this moment, how each event lead you here with her.

As the ceremony started, you each repeating the words after the priest, he was the first priest to marry the same sex couple and was more than honour to do that.

" do you take as your

"Y/n Y/l/n do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in (holy) matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

You smiled "I do"

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in (holy) matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Natasha reached her hand to take yours in hers "I do"

He had a smile across his lips "Well then repeat after me"

"I, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, take you Y/n Y/l/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part." She repeated after him, not looking away and not even tripping over her words, she was ready to spend the rest of her life with you.

"I, Y/n Y/l/n, take you Natalia Alianovna Romanova, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part." You repeated the same thing, wanting to make it clear to everyone that was here.

As you and Natasha exchanged the rings, it was the moment where he announced yous wife and wife, the best part of this whole ceremony.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace" He loudly stated, making sure that everyone heard.

That's when your parents stormed in "We do! This is wrong"

Your heart stopped, you didn't expect them to show up but to show up like this, ruining your special day. You looked over at them, eyes filled with tears, cursing under breath how your parents could do that.

Natasha already got to work, she cupped your face, pulling your eyes away from them and making you look into hers "Heyyy, Y/n. You're okay, this day is about us"

Steve and Thor already sprang to action, dragging your parents out and kicking them out just like they had done years ago to you, there were whispers around the church.

"Quiet down!" The priest shouted out, causing everyone to shut up and finally pay attention to where it was the most important.

He looked down at you "Are you okay to continue?"

You nodded, trying your best to wipe the tears to not ruin the make up and look worse on your pictures. Natasha gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, reminding you she was here, she was your armour to the bad stuff, she has your back in everything.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the State I now pronounce you wife and wife." He announced with a loud cheer following that.

"You may kiss the brides" He added as he stepped back, letting the spotlight fall only on the two of you.

You let out a nervous chuckle before letting Natasha delicately pull you into a forever sealing kiss, this was it, the moment that made your future more clear than ever.

As yous parted, walking hand in hand down the aisle, just as yous passed the door, Natasha pulled you into another kiss "I can't believe that now you are my wife"

You smiled as your eyes were closed "Your wife, gosh that sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth"

Natasha smirked "I know exactly what will come out of your mouth that will be perfect"

You nodded to agree with her, pulling her into another kiss and walked towards the car that was going to take everyone to the party, letting others say their vows about their brides.

It was fun to watch everyone say some embarrassing things, even if you didn't particularly enjoy the embarrassing parts but yous got through that.

As you danced with Natasha, being held close to each other, you wanted to be the happiest, this was one in the life time to marry that one love of your life.

But your mind was clouded with your parents, as you moved your head so you could look into Natasha's eyes, you spoke with a sad smile "I'm sorry about my parents, I really wanted this day to just be about us but they had to ruin it"

Natasha shook her head with a gentle smile "They didn't ruin it, we are still here, holding each other knowing that we are officially married, wife and wife, we won and they lost, they lost a battle that was never set with a win. We have each other whilst they have no one else to back them up"

"I don't want you to be sorry for them, they are responsible for their actions so they should be the ones to be sorry, they interrupted our time which makes them look bad" Natasha explained as she pulled you even more closer to her.

"детка (baby), I am happy with you here and I could care less what they are doing now, I am happy to be married and imagine our family expanding" Her free hand held your face, still moving her feet to keep up the dancing.

You nodded "You're right, we are stronger together than apart, this was just a little step back to have us end up here in this exact moment."

She nodded with happiness in her eyes "Exactly, now give me a kiss"

You obeyed and leaned in, giving her a kiss that she wanted, even if she tried her best to not make you pull away you knew you had to. Fury walked up to yous as he put his hand on both of your shoulders making yours pull away quickly to look at him.

He smiled widely "I just wanted to congratulate you both for this successful day, I serious wish you both a lot of happiness and health because you both are going to need it if you want to be here with each other."

"I know yous said no presents but I wanted to gift you two this" He handed you an envelope.

"Natasha is my daughter, not by blood but still my daughter and I want for her to have the best life a father would want, so please accept this, it would make me very happy" He squeezed Natasha's shoulder to which she gave him a smile.

You opened the envelope, having a letter inside of a purchase, you had a small frown but as you read the lines, it became clear "You are buying us a house?"

Natasha was just as shocked as you, she didn't expect such an expensive gift to be given, he nodded "I want yous to start a family somewhere, not in the compound or some junky ass apartment"

"We- We can't accept that Nick" You were first to talk but he was quick to shut you down.

"Please do, I don't beg but I am here to do that, take this as a gift of this wonderful day, I want that house to be full of your love" He begged yous.

Natasha smiled at him as she looked over at you "Thank you Nick, as much as this is too expensive, we will take it to make you happy"

She hugged him as she placed a kiss on his cheek "Thank you dad"

You heard her even if she whispered it to his ear, he was a little taken back but tried to stay put together, still he had a tears in his eyes as he parted away from Natasha, excusing himself as he left yous to be.

Just as he walked off, the music changed, making the whole team rush over to the dance floor, your sister being the first to drag you away from Natasha, partying with her to make you forget about anything that could worry you.

So this was your life lesson, taking a risk was everything, you were happy and didn't regret any choices you took along the way to get here.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

If you want to join my tag list, click here and enjoy my future posts.

Tag list:

@eilarch, @simp-erformarvelwomen, @madamevirgo @diaryoflife @theprassebox @marvelwomen-simp @razorscooteer @bentleywolf29 @romaaa28 @romanoff-maximoff-lover @fayhar @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ellietorres123 @1uthina @zealousbarbariandonut @alwaysgoodnight @bisexualmess8 @suckerfornatstits @marvel-mcu-3000 @alianovnam @beenicejoy @wandanatvoid @d14n4ol @acertainredhead @xxromanoffxx @sinfulair @jjstar9898 @thewidowsghost @smallestavenger @hot4milfs @androgynouscloudenemy @marie45019 @simpforolderwomen @sammi1642 @gae4redheads @froufrousnowman @princessprudy @lovelyy-moonlight @wizardofstories @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @natashasilverfox @lorsstar1st @teamkiddosp @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @summergeezburr @inluvwithfictionalwomen @aeroae @wackymcstupid @immadowhateva

[jegulily-stuff]

I have a few prompts!! 🧚‍♂️

1. Jegulily double date/hang out with wolfstar

2. Jegulily’s typical cuddling routine

3. Honestly this is just a headcanon of mine but scenario: Regulus knowing a lot of Lily’s favorite things cause Snape would never stfu about her but whenever James or Lily are surprised and asks how he knows this he doesn’t know how to respond 🙈

4. One of them getting injured and the others going full protective mode 👀 👀

5. Rotation scenes of 2/3 of jegulily talking about the other 1/3 (i.e, James and Lily talking about Regulus, Lily and Regulus talking about James, Regulus and James talking about Lily)

There to go!!! You can just pick and choose ur faves (or all of them if you want to) 💗💖 love what you’re doing for this ship lmao

Thanks so much for the message!

I've done 3. for you here. I think I'll do at least one of the others too at some point.

....

Lily had been going to stay at James' a lot that summer holiday, ducking in and out of Petunia's wedding planning which had entirely taken over her own house.

Her boyfriend's parents were always happy to have her - always happy to have any guests, really. The house was usually busy. Sirius and his brother were living there permanently now, she understood, and Remus, Pete, and Marlene were always visiting. And none of them liked to start arguments about colour swatches and seating plans, which was a welcome respite.

She'd been a little uncertain about Regulus at first. Especially after what had happened with Sev. Sirius was in the habit of describing their change in household as him kidnapping his brother, with no mention of Regulus' own decision. So it was a little hard to tell where exactly he fell on the whole 'her place in the world' issue.

But in the end there had been no problem, even if there might once have been. And while Regulus tended to keep to himself unless prompted, he could be easily convinced to play Quidditch with the others, or join Lily, and James' dad in the potions lab.

He was somehow a perfect lab partner, instinctively knowing how to fit in around her without being told. Lily found herself enjoying his company for its own sake more often than not. And James and Sirius seemed generally determined to include him in everything so he was always around.

....

// "He fucking ordered fermented vanilla!" Snape said as he stormed into the common room. "How am I supposed to use that?"

Mulciber looked up from the couch groggily. "What?"

"Slughorn. I asked him to order vanilla, but he got it fermented."

"What potion are you making?" Avery asked.

Snape reddened slightly. "It's not for a potion - I just told him it was."

"And the potion you aren't making uses fermented vanilla, does it?"

"Yes." Snape hissed through gritted teeth.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before-" Avery cut Mulciber off. "Maybe you should just ask him to order some more. Is there really an issue here?"

"I've already exceeded the allowance for requests." Snape said. "I don't want him to decide he won't do it for me at all anymore. I need that. Ingredients are expensive. Can one of you ask him?"

"What do you even need it for?"

"I'm just trying to do something nice." Snape complained. "Why is it so much effort? It's not fair."

"This better not be for your mudblood."

"I've already gone to so much trouble!" Snape said. "I had to steal cinnamon from the kitchens, but they didn't have vanilla."

"But it is for her?"

"There's this way she makes coffee at home. Vanilla, cinnamon, cream, and cinnamon sugar on top. And I remembered it on purpose - I put so much effort in. She doesn't ever have it at school, and I thought she'd appreciate - she'd appreciate me making it for her. Why does it have to be so difficult to do something nice for her?"//

One thing about James' parents that Lily had found out quickly, was how much value they placed on domestic tasks. It wasn't that they didn't have house elves (in fact the elves had a whole miniature cottage in the Potters' garden), but Effie and Monty also thought it was important to do those jobs yourself.

Lily had found she enjoyed going to pick the early season fruits with Effie and James.

James climbed to the top of one of the fruit trees and started throwing carefully chosen ripe fruit down to the others. Out of his earshot, Effie told Lily a story of how he'd once gotten stuck up that tree and made himself sick eating unripe fruit because he was worried he'd starve to death while he was stranded in the wilderness. James seemed to know exactly what his mother had told her when he heard them laughing and immediately shouted down 'I was seven - seven years old - and I'd missed lunch'. Lily and Effie looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

Regulus was a bit of a fish out of water with the Potters' way of doing thing, but if anyone had expected him to dislike it, they'd have been proven wrong quite quickly. It turned out positive reinforcement was very effective on him, and he'd set to any task with great determination if he thought that someone would tell him he'd done a good job at it.

He made them hot drinks when they came in from the orchard. Normally when she was at the Potters' Lily drank the masala chai that James' mum liked to make for all her guests. That was what Regulus had made for Effie, and a less milky tea for James, who prefered his drinks to be as close to water as possible.

But for Lily, this time, he'd made coffee. She might have been a little in love with coffee to be honest. And it had been far too long since she'd had any.

She took a sip.

Somehow it was perfect.

It was exactly how she liked it. A dash of cream. Cinnamon and vanilla. He'd even sprinkled the top with cinnamon sugar.

Was there some kind of spell that told you someones favourite drink recipe? She was almost certain she hadn't told him, or made it herself in front of him at any point.

But Lily supposed she must have.

She thanked him and he gave her a small smile before James pulled him into a half hug.

He did that kind of thing a lot, did James. And Regulus always let him. James was a very touchy person in general, and it seemed to come out a lot with Regulus. Or maybe it was just that Regulus wasn't someone she often saw cuddled up to anyone else so she noticed it more. Whether or not Regulus was accustomed to it, he always seemed comfortable around James.

That's James' way, Lily thought, he's good with people. And she deliberately didn't think the other rather obvious thing.

Sirius and Marlene came in a few minutes later, back from the bakery down in the village. Sirius looked briefly proud when Effie told him that Regulus had made her chai perfectly, then he made a show of complaining that he didnt get a drink.

Lily rolled her eyes in amusement. Normally Regulus had some kind of smart retort for Sirius' posturing, but he didnt bother with that this time. Still tucked under one of James' arms, Regulus stuck his tongue out at his brother. Sirius began to bluster while Marlene laughed at him.

Lily found herself feeling very fond of all of them.

....

// "Are you really still agonising over what to get your mudblood for Valentine's?" Avery asked. "I've been all the way to Ravenclaw tower and back, and you still haven't finished. That's so embarrassing."

"It's for her birthday. Not for Valentine's." Snape said. "And it's important."

"Is it?" Avery asked.

"Just get her flowers and be done with it." Mulciber said. Then he snapped his fingers. "Get her lilies. It's so simple. She'll think it's really clever. You're thinking too hard - it's not like you need to get her anything special."

"That isn't clever!" Snape snapped. "Only a simple minded idiot would think that was clever." Avery snorted at that. "Lily's smarter than that. Besides, her favourite flowers are actually wisteria - and you cant give someone that, it's basically a tree. And flowers are a terrible gift anyway! Not all girls want flowers you know."

"Yeah, yours is special, we've all heard." Mulciber grumbled. "Can we do something else now? I've got a new jinx I want to try." //

James had bought her flowers.

They were sat in a vase on one of the tables in the kitchen. Lily wasnt sure if she was supposed to have taken them up to her guest room, or maybe to James' room, since that was where she was really staying. So she'd just left them there.

The bouquet was lilies and roses. It was very romantic - very James, she thought. Lily was certain the clerk at the florist's had cooed over him when he went to buy it. And Lily appreciated that he'd wanted to do a nice thing for her. She just had no idea what you were supposed to do with flowers once you had them. Look at them probably...

That was what she was doing right now, but it wasn't really inspiring her.

James and Regulus walked in from whatever flying thing they'd just been doing. Of all the Quidditch players in the house they were the two that took training the most seriously.

James came up behind her, where she was sat on a stool at the table, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

"How are you?"

"Good."

"Just sitting here enjoying the flowers?" He teased. She supposed it looked like she was just sat alone staring into space.

"Uh, yeah. I am. Thank you."

She thought she'd managed not to sound awkward but James caught it.

"What's up?" He asked, pressing his chest against her back and hugging her a little tighter.

"Nothing's up." She said lightly, interlacing their fingers. "Really, you don't have to worry."

"You don't like the flowers?" He said. And of course he'd pick up on that too.

"No - I do - I appreciate that you... got them."

He hummed into her neck. "Bad gift, huh? Duly noted. We'll work on that - improve it for next time."

"We?" She asked.

"Me and my... team?" James said.

"You collaborate on these ideas do you?"

"He definitely doesn't ask me." Regulus said, stood over by the sink with a glass of water. "I mean, lilies for Lily, come on."

"What's wrong with that?" James said with good-natured indignation. "That works, doesn't it. That fits."

Lily laughed under her breath.

"What?" James said, "Surely that's the perfect flower - which ones should I get you instead?"

Lily started to say that she wasn't really a flower kind of person.

"Wisteria." Regulus said quietly.

She turned to him quickly, a question on her lips.

He looked a little alarmed.

"That's your favourite, right?"

"Yes." She said. Then, "But how on earth do you know that?"

His alarm visibly increased. "Uhhh..."

"And for that matter how did you know how I like my coffee?"

"You a natural legilimens or something?" James asked, playfully.

"Definitely not." Regulus said. "I just... know things. I pay attention."

"I've never told anyone about the wisteria thing. That was my favourite flower from when I was, like, eight years old, because my grandma had it growing over her porch. I didn't even remember it until you said it."

Regulus looked at her awkwardly. "Maybe I have the Sight?"

"You do have good intuition." James told him. "Terrible judgement, maybe..."

"Thanks."

"But I suppose a lot of Seers are great at getting information and terrible at interpreting it - so maybe that does track."

Regulus let James continue that train of though for far longer than it deserved, terrible lie that it was. But eventually James remembered that he was supposed to be fetching his dad a pair of secateurs and headed for the door. He gave her a kiss on his way out, and squeezed Regulus' shoulder in a lingering sort of way.

When he was gone, Lily walked over to Regulus.

"Did Sev tell you? He's the only person that could know."

She knew she'd got it right, because Regulus immediately looked rather guilty.

"He didn't tell me, exactly. He just used to talk about you a lot, and I suppose I remember some of it. Especially now I actually see you all the time. It's just there in my mind."

"Why didn't you just say that to start with, Mr Psychic?"

"I thought mentioning him might upset you. Everyone else avoids it, I've noticed."

"It's a bit different with everyone else - we used to argue about him. They know I don't want to hear 'I told you so' anymore, but they can't help themselves. I don't think we've ever had a conversation like that."

Regulus looked away.

"How could we have? I've never been in a position to say that." He took a breath. "That's another reason I didn't want to bring him up. I feel like everyone could fairly have the same problem with me that you all do with him. And I didn't like to draw attention to it."

She felt a little jump in her chest. "The same problem? Still?"

"No! Not now. But I don't know if that means anyone's issue with me just goes away..."

"As far as I'm concerned it's what you're going to do now that matters. Everyone's got to fix something about the way their parents made them. Some more than others, admittedly." She sighed, and ran her hand down his arm. "You scared me for a second with that, you know?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's only that I really rather like you and I'd hate to make a fool of myself twice."

"You like me?"

"You think I hang out with you because I don't like you?"

Regulus tilted his head as he considered that.

"The answer to that is obviously not." Lily told him. "I like you, and I like having you around. Even if you fancy my boyfriend."

"I don't!"

Lily raised an eyebrow.

He faltered.

"You do, but it's alright. It's a bit cute, actually."

Regulus went rather red.

"James likes you too, though I suppose that's quite obvious."

"Likes me, like you like me?"

Or likes you the way you like him?, Lily finished. But she didn't say it out loud.

How much of a distinction was there to even make?

"I think we ought to keep you around." She said, rather than answering. "James needs to expand his relationship management team, after all." Lily gave him a smile "And apparently you already know everything I like."

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Plots line and episode themes that would have improved Sons of Anarchy part 2.

As stated in the first post, these ideas are just for fun and are silly and unrealistic. Feel free to use these ideas in fanfics if you wish. After rewatching the show I've grown to dislike Sutter even more, he took a show and charters with amazing potential and made it dark and depressing. These ideas take place in a world where everything has a happy ending.

1. The leather care episode, we heard all through the series about how important their Kutts are but we never see them look after them. At weddings, the Groom says "I'll treat you as good as my leather" but we have no idea what that means.

2. As stated before I don't like Tara but it would have been good to see more of her and Jax together, they never really had many super long scenes and while the actors had amazing chemistry, I felt like it would have been good to see the more mundane moments. I want to know why they love each other.

3. More Chibs, it would have been nice to see him find an Old Lady and settle down, also the older I get the more appeal he has.

4. The "make a wish" episode; one of the kids at St Thomas loves motorcycle and the club. However, he's sick so the club includes him in all activities one day, he gets to sit in on church and they vote for what's for lunch or what flavours of ice cream to have after work. He gets a little TM vest and a tiny Kutt. If I was to stick to the theme of the show the child would die at the end of the episode but I say no, someone reads about an experimental treatment the club gets the money somehow and the child recovers and sees the guys every now and then.

5. A prank war episode, it starts small and ends when Gemma goes off and gives a Mom lecture.

6. An episode that explains everyone back story. There are basically no flashbacks in SOA, it would have been good to see the start of everyone's journey.

7. More Nazi punching.

8. I want to see the guys cooking or trying to. I can see one of the guys begging Gemma for help to impress a woman who can cook.

9. More of Happy, he was a hard character to nail down and I could never decide if he was written to be evil or just morally ambiguous. In Mayans, he showed he was capable of caring for a dog and I do think he loved his brothers, Gemma, Jax's kid, and Lyla (I'm not too sure about Tara)

10. Less of Tig, the necrophilia thing was terrible and it should have been written for what it was and not a joke. His behaviour in just the very first episodes was disgusting and him killing Donna was my last straw, I really didn't like him and in all honesty, I think he was a coward in many ways. Had he told Opie right away and not blamed Stahl, my opinion would be very different.

11. There is an episode about the crow tattoo, all the old ladies have one, yet we know nothing about it. How do they know when it's time to take that step? Is there only one design (it seems so) or do the couple design it themselves? Does the man pick the placement or the woman? For something that has been shown to be a huge part of the club women, there's no backstory at all.

12. More of Lyla, I loved her character and we should have seen more of her, it would have also been good to see more of Lyla and Tara together, I really liked their dynamic in season 3.

13. Given that I'm not acknowledging seasons 6 and 7 I want more of Nero and Gemma, also more of Nero and Jax.

15. I fucking hated Jacob Hale, he was a Neo-Nazi sympathiser and capitalist pig, I would have loved to see him lose to Oswald and be exposed for what he truly was.

16. The summit episode, history 1% clubs did hold summits, it would have been good to see a whole lot of them gather at TM to discuss being a biker or whatever.

17. The Swole Boys should have been a part of SOA, it would have been hilarious.

18. I don't like Tara but she did so much for the club. Bobby and Chibs were the only ones who ever recognised her. The rest of the club should have been more appreciative.

19. More T.O, I loved his character, it's a shame he was most featured in the saddest season.

20. More of Juice, in the first 4 seasons he was one of my favourites, I hate what they did to his character arc.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers (February 22nd, 2021)

Hello! Here’s another collection of anon ask answers all put together in one big post.

This might be strange considering how upbeat yall are about the fandoms for your games in general, but is there any particular trope or ship you WOULDN'T want us writing/drawing/etc. in relation to your stuff? (IE, any canon you don't want us 'overwriting' or something like that?)

Of course we would want the fan content people make to not be racist, sexist, homophobic, bigoted, harmful, etc. But in terms of generally doing non-canon pairings or adding in headcanons or stuff, we really don’t mind that. People are welcome to have fun and explore their own ideas.

for the 1.2 Android update was it meant to download as a  separate app? I really want to keep my previous save files but they don't show up (also thank u for the updates I'm really excited to get back into the game!!)

We had to change the name of the file and unfortunately for some phones that meant it’s treated as a brand new game. I’m sorry your saves didn’t transfer over to the new version. You can try to look up your specific phone and see if there’s a way to access save files for games on your device and then transfer those saves over to the new build manually. It may or may not be possible.

I'm having some trouble figuring out how to get the update from Itichio without losing my save files? Is it the same game or a folder I can put in the properties? Sorry if this question is not worded well or if this isn't the avenue you'd want to take technical questions on

Are you using Android? If so, the above answer may apply to you. If you’re on PC or Mac, the save files will automatically still be included.

Hey. I really loved playing our life. It was a fun experience and I never thought I would like it this much. I do have a question, I am currently replaying the game and I am choosing choices I never chose at first. In step 2 during the road trip arc, I decided to ask Cove about what he liked to see on people. One of his response was anklets and black eyes. My MC have just happens to have black eyes. Do Cove say black eyes cuz my mc have it or it was just a coincidently programmed into the game?

He uses your eye color intentionally! If you changed your eye color he’d change what he said.

Will step 4 have 10 moments like steps 1-3? 

Step 4 is only an epilogue. It plays like the openings/endings of the earlier Steps where it’s a bunch of scenes all in a row, there aren’t any individual Moments.

hi! who was/were the artist(s) for our life? 

&

who is the artist for Our Life: Beginning and Always?

Main Sprite and CG Artist: Addrossi

Main Background Artist: Vui Huynh

Main Interface Artist: Winter Slice

Other artists who helped out can be seen in the credits of the game.

In the new ol, there are two main love interests... Would it be possible to pair them together or is that weird? 

You can’t stay single and pair them together. If we are going to add all the extra content to have a route where the two LIs get together, it’d be a full poly route where them and the MC were all dating. And that’s not a for sure option yet because it’d add a lot of extra complications. But either way, in OL the relationships all gotta be about the MC, haha.

In OL2, there will be extra LIs in form of DLCs? Like Dexter and Baxter. 

Maybe! We’ll see how it goes.

Since Cove will have 2 diff body types in s4, will the storyline and dialogs reflect this? Or all of it will be the same? Btw love the game and sorry for bad english. Hope this doesn't sound rude 😅 

Some descriptions and pieces of dialog will change, but it won’t impact the story really. And you don’t need to apologize! It’s all good.

Will you ever release the transparent sprites of the Our Life characters? 

Probably not, I’m afraid. They’ve got a lot of pieces and it’d just be kind of hard to deal with, aha.

Something I was curious about, what was your inspiration for making a game with so much customization?

Initially, the idea was just about having a romance where you actually grew up with the LI. But it was pretty stressful to try deciding how fast the relationship would progress with it taking place over such a long period of time and with no real storyline carrying it. People might not wanna play a game where the characters don’t get along as kids, but other people might not bother with a game where kids immediately liked each other. So the obvious answer came, just let the player pick themselves how it goes. From there we simply continued to add more flexibly with the MC due to the same thought process of wanting to make sure people were onboard with how their life was going.

What made you decide to change the artstyle for ol 2 so much? I of course respect all your decisions and will buy the shit out of everything related to ol 2, but i love the original style and i m honestly not a fan of the styles shown on patreon, despite me liking the painterly style in general. (I don t mind the style being changed, just that the examples shown so far all feel like there s something wrong with them.) 

We’ve always used different art styles for each of our projects. They all have distinct looks from each other. It’s just nice to do something new. I’m glad you really like how the first game looks, though. And those samples were only general concepts, rather than the exact options being decided between. We wanted to see reactions to different options. The art style we’re going with won’t be exactly like those, though I personally like all of them. I think players are gonna enjoy the style Our Life: Now & Forever when it’s revealed.

Hey! Is it ok to ask what gender ourlife2 protagonist will be and if we'll be given the same opportunity to customize an MC? Totally understand if you're keeping this under wraps for now if u don't wanna say! 

OL2 will have the same type of MC customization as OL1, but even more refined! So their gender will be up to you.

Hi! I happened upon Our Life on Steam by pure chance. It is such a great game, I am super excited about the DLC, and I just want you all to know that you are awesome! :D I have a question, and I'm sorry if it's been asked before. Do you have plans of making more games similar to Our Life, with customizable player character? The customizable player character was probably the one thing I personally have been desperate for in romance VNs. So glad there finally is one and would love to see more.

Thank you! And yep, we do have plans for more games like Our Life, most notably is another game in the franchise- Our Life: Now & Forever. We’ll also likely have other, non-OL, games with customizable MCs, though we may still have some games with set MCs in the future as well.

On the patreon dlc just curious but is it possible to play it without actually sleeping together/getting the nsfw content? I just want to spend more time with Cove 

Yeah, you can still choose not to go that far. Though the event is shorter if you pass on the 18+ stuff.

At the beginning of Step 2, did Cove end up accidentally falling asleep in your bed? Or did he fall asleep on the floor? 

He fell asleep sitting on the floor with his body/head leaning against the side of the bed.

This may seem like a weird question, but what exactly is the difference between "direct" and "relaxed" on the comfort scale?

Direct is blunter and more teasing, relaxed is lighthearted and goes with the flow.

can the MC have tattoos in step 3? 

Not in Step 3, but you can in Step 4.

how would Cove react if he visited somewhere like North Carolina in winter where it can get in the 20s(F) at night sometimes? 

He would be shocked and unprepared for what serious coldness is really like, haha. The poor beach baby would wanna go home.

Hello! I just joined the PATREON!! It’s amazing! I love your games! I have a question, approximately how much after will the nsfw be out? After or before the dlc 3 and step four? Sorry my English isn’t the best!❤️❤️❤️ 

Thanks so much! The NSFW DLC will be out after the Step 3 DLC but before Step 4. And you don’t need to apologize for that ^^.

This might be obvious but, will step 4 have dlcs? Also, where will the nsfw dlc happen? Won't bother me at all if it s in in our or his house but i do think it d be moderately funny 

Step 4 will have the Cove Wedding DLC and the Derek and Baxter romance DLCs each add a lot of new content to Step 4, though they’re also partially set in Step 2 and Step 3 respectively. The NSFW DLC happens in Cove’s room.

I keep wondering what would've happened if Mr. Holden met Lizzie first instead of the MC. I can't see that turning out well somehow lol. 

It wouldn’t have made a difference. He met the MC’s parents first and they told him about their two kids. He wanted the MC specifically to be Cove’s friend because the two were the same age.

Even though we have a way to go I'm really excited for OL 2! I was curious though, is the next main character going to be adopted again? I thought it was really clever to make the first main character adopted so when players are customizing,  they can make them look how ever they like without worrying about pesky genetics. Just wondering! 

The OL2 MC is not adopted. We wanted to go for a new dynamic. Instead their parents are their biological single mother who is partially customizable and an off-screen sperm donor father. So the mom will look generally like the MC and any other traits not from her can be assumed to come from whoever the father was.

—– —– —–

Thank you so much for all the asks ^^

FAQ   If you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[notarelationship]

In A Minute - Klaine Advent Edition: Day 5 orientation

For Klaine Advent this year I’m going to try to finish up a story I started writing in 2019, but never finished because of *waves hands around* everything.

It’s a fake-dating story called In A Minute, and you can read the existing 4 chapters on AO3 here, or on tumblr here.  I originally expected the story to be another 2-3 chapters (or maybe 2 with an epilogue), so it should work out in the end, provided everyone behaves themselves.

Each Klaine Advent entry this year will continue the story, chronologically, i.e., I won’t be jumping around (unless the story calls for it). The word counts for each are likely to be all over the place; some could be 100 words, and some are sure to be more. I probably won’t post every day, but I’m not planning on doubling up any words of the day, so expect one entry per word. I’ll probably update AO3 when I have what feels like a chapter’s worth of story.

Thanks to everyone for reading!

-

Klaine Advent 2021 Word: orientation (ish) Word Count: 651 Warnings: none

Previous: silence, ceiling, obligation, ancestor --

“Michelle, wait,” Blaine pleaded. “It’s such short notice, we’d have to pick a song, and rehearse, and what if the band doesn’t want us to do it? And we don’t even know if Sebastian’s and my voices even sound good together! What if we sound like screeching cats, or… or Sylvester Stallone and Dolly Parton?” Blaine could feel himself starting to panic. He did not want to sing a romantic duet in front of 200 guests - including many members of his family, with Sebastian Smythe. 

“Ooh, nice Rhinestone callout,” Kurt murmured to no one in particular.

“Don’t be silly Blaine,” his mother interjected. “I’ve heard you both sing, and there’s no way it won’t sound good. And as for the band - well they’re a wedding band for goodness sake, so I’m sure things like this happen all the time. And it would be such a nice thing to do for your cousin.”

Blaine looked at his mother and tried not to glare, he couldn’t help but believe that she had somehow maneuvered to make this happen. It would be just her style. Over her shoulder he could see Sebastian smirk.

 “Why don’t we pull together a short list of songs that Michelle and David like, and that we think we can handle, and we can email it to the band,” Sebastian suggested. “That is, if Kurt can spare him for a few minutes?”

It didn’t look like Blaine was going to be able to get out of this, at least not without making a scene, and he was determined not to do that. It didn’t seem right to do that to MIchelle. Blaine sighed and reached down to slip his hand into Kurt’s. “Kurt could join us. He’s in musical theater, and he used to be in the glee club in high school, and he has a pretty good sense of my range.” 

Sebastian’s eyes darkened for just a second, but he plastered on a smile and said, “Of course.”

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand tightly. Blaine knew Kurt had never heard him sing, and probably didn't have a great sense of Blaine’s anything. But he needed some support and Kurt was the only person at this wedding in his corner. Except maybe his dad, and he still hadn’t told Kurt about that conversation. What a long day.

Half an hour later they had a short list of songs that Michelle sent to the band, who responded right away to say they’d get back to her in the morning. They also confirmed that they had time to rehearse a song or two with her guest singers. 

“I’m not sure about a couple of those songs,” Kurt said, after they’d excused themselves from the group. Blaine could tell Kurt was dragging him toward the bar, and he wasn’t going to protest. “Your cousin and her fiancé don’t really strike me as the Troy and Gabriella type.” 

Blaine smiled. “Ah, but High School Musical is timeless Kurt.” 

“I think you mean ‘dated’ Blaine.” When they got to the bar Kurt ordered a glass of red wine and a gin and tonic for Blaine. 

“Am I hitting the hard stuff?”

“I thought you could use some reorientation after all that.” 

Blaine nodded. Kurt wasn’t wrong about that. “I’m sorry this has been weird.” Kurt looked at him confused, and handed over his drink. 

“What do you mean?”

Blaine shrugged. “Oh I don’t know, my mom, Sebastian, the nap thing.” Blaine was at a loss. It had been such a long day. “Everything?”

Kurt smiled. “Oh come on, a wedding isn’t really a wedding until there’s some unexpected drama; the groom hasn’t slept with any bridesmaids, or the best man -” Kurt winked, “That I'm aware of anyway. Michelle is barely even a bridezilla, and you warned me about Sebastian in advance. In fact, he’s the reason I'm here. It's hardly been weird at all.”

[arhvste]

❝ kuroo tetsurō - wedding hcs ❞

tetsu week masterlist

-> nothing over the top

-> you guys agreed upon a modest wedding with the relevant family and friends invited

-> by that i mean you guys don’t bother with inviting far extended family and friends of friends because you guys shouldn’t have to waste your budget feeding people y’all rarely talk to

-> also kuroo doesn’t like his 3rd cousin so he just didn’t invite the whole extended tree

-> it’s a pretty traditional wedding like y’all really don’t add any unecessary features to it

-> like 3 water fountains at the front of the entrance might look nice but there’s a good chance someone bokuto will end up in it somehow so it got scratched off the list

-> anywho

-> your wedding is immaculate because your mans considered everything down to a t

-> of course he took on board everything you said you wanted to include

-> he’s heavily involved in the planning and has pinterest downloaded on his phone too

-> making a romantic playlist for your s/o? nah

-> making a pinterest board for your s/o 😎

-> lowkey y’all get followers on pinterest just because your board is ugh chefs kiss

-> so you guys have a spring wedding because it’s not too hot or too cold

-> also the weather is good enough to hold plthe ceremony outside

-> you know who actually helps you find a good venue?

-> akaashi

-> the mans in the shoujo manga dept he’s gonna know what a good wedding scene looks like

-> so he recommends this pretty place by a river and temple in the distance

-> thank you akaashi, very helpful 😼

-> seeing as the place you guys hold the ceremony is already quite natural and has a nice colour palette to it, you guys don’t go overboard with flowers

-> of course you’ll have some white flowers and soft tones of any other colour flowers you think suit

-> kuroo insists on using your fav flower as the most dominant one

-> in reality he’s just trying to show off to you the fact that even after all these years, he still knows your fav things like flowers off by heart

-> ceo of simps 🤩

-> no it’s actually very cute he remembers and insists upon the small detail being included

-> overall though your decorations are really pretty?

-> like they’re not too in your face they’re just very delicate and dainty 😼

-> as for food, i’m gonna leave that for you guys to imagine because idk if y’all have allergies or religious rules you have to follow etc

-> but just know kuroo’s having the menu made exactly how you want it

-> as long as there’s some form of mackerel on there

-> so back onto your actual wedding day

-> kuroo is NERVOUS

-> he’s marrying the love of his life !!!

-> and he will cry 😜

-> he has no idea what you look like but he’s gonna cry because you’re going to look ethereal

-> okay i know everyone hcs that he would wear some red suit or something

-> but he’s wearing a black and white formal one,, i said what i said 😌

-> and this is purely because this means it can’t clash with your own colour scheme

-> what a considerate husband 😎

-> so when the time comes for him to see you his hands are sweaty asf

-> i just know sakusa is somewhere in the audience cringing because his gross spidey senses are going off

-> his little leg is shaking up and down cause like damn

-> can this old man just shush and get to the part where you walk down the aisle?? he’s missed you all day 😾

-> ugh finally everyone is standing up to welcome you and kuroo is already tearing up

-> his breath hitches from the moment you’re in his eyesight

-> y/n, luv, YOURE SO HOT

-> kuroo is all 🥺😖🤩🥰

-> while he’s taking in your appearance the world just kinda stops for him

-> well actually it gets a little closer because you’re his world duh

-> but he’s never seen someone so breathtaking

-> is this legal?? are you about to cut of his oxygen supply??

-> when you finally get to the front of the alter and stand right in front of him he swears he could die happy

-> he has waited so long to officially make you his

-> and now you’re finally standing here about to take his last name

-> he takes your hand into his and is relieved to feel yours are a little sweaty too

-> ugh you guys are so happy and nervous

-> the whole time the priest is talking neither of you are really listening because wow

-> you’re both finally here together

-> all kuroo can focus on is you

-> and vice versa

-> when the time comes, his vows are stuttered out at first but he grows more confident as you give him a pure and genuine smile

-> “i knew you were the one after you asked me for my homework answers right before class back in our second year 😌”

-> your second year home room teacher and close friend sat somewhere in the audience : 👁👄👁

-> “you were so cute. had i of known that letting you cheat on the homework would’ve led us here i would’ve let you cheat way before so we could’ve met sooner”

-> kuroo is cute but he’s just straight up snaking you up for your lack of homework in your second year

-> you’re like ‘stop talking 😀’

-> overall his vows are very cliche and he has some bad jokes littered in there too but that’s what makes it so him

-> y/n, luv, yours aren’t much better though because they’re just as cheesy

-> that’s okay though because they’re still cute

-> kenma will be gagging behind the two of you while y’all display your affection 😜

-> so when kuroo finally allowed to kiss you he doesn’t told back

-> he’s just made you his officially if you think he’s going in for a shy peck you’re wrong

-> mans a lil stiff but he’s going to the whole arm under back and dip

-> everyones too excited to care over how over the top it is though

-> anyways, your food

-> it was immaculate because your man is getting you nothing but the best

-> and as for your cake

-> kuroo tries to do that thing where he swipes buttercream on your nose to be all cute

-> but he miscalculates his angles and got it in your eye 🤩

-> that’s okay though because you get him back by swiping a handful in his face

-> don’t worry, the baker knew this would happen

-> so there’s a spare layer to make up for the one you kinda ruined

-> ugh your baker came in clutch 🤑

-> anyways onto your first dance

-> kuroo steps on your feet a handful of times 😖

-> he’s lowkey embarrassed but your footwork isn’t amazing either so he feels a little better

-> i’m not calling you guys bad dancers

-> you’re both just still so in shock that you’re really married now 🥺

-> the whole dance is just a little teary eyed as he whispers how much he loves you and how happy you’ve made him while you dance

-> the less tearful dances occur after you’re all done though

-> the whole night people are stealing the two of you away from each other to congratulate the two of you and dance and drink with you all etc

-> the whole time spent with your family and friends is so nice and just fulfilling??? 😌

-> by the end of it though you just want to be in your husbands arms alone

-> and that’s exactly what kuroo grants as soon as the last of your guests leave

-> he carries you bridal style to the car waiting outside for the two of you

-> “tetsu, i can walk”

-> “we just got married arent i allowed to carry you as such? 😿”

-> and with that the two of you are driving off into the night to the 5 star hotel you’re staying at

-> listen, i know it’s been a long day for the two of you and you guys are probably tired

-> but you’re not tired enough not to give him one last wedding gift 👀

-> it it just so happens that this is his favourite one 😼

dt - @aislastetsu

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou @mattsuny @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @waitforitillwritemywayout

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[inevitably-johnlocked]

JL Fic Recs: Angst With Happy Ending Pt. 3

Hey all!!

OKAY, so... I somehow LOST the original ask that this list was supposed to attach to, so I’m going to just offer it as a standalone list, because I need it posted for another ask I have, LOL.

So, for whoever asked about 2 months ago for Angst with a Happy Ending, this one is for you, LOL. I’m sorry, I have no idea why your post disappeared from my drafts. Enjoy, all, a rare List Without an Ask :). ENJOY!! And as usual, add your faves! <3

ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING Pt 3

See also:

Angst With a Happy Ending

Angst With a Happy Ending Pt. 2

Angsty Fluff

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing.Almost...magical.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione RomCom Fest (Part 1)

Dramione RomCom Fest 2020:

12 Years and 3 Months by pixiedustandbluebutterflies - T, one-shot - As news of their engagement takes Wizarding England by storm, elusive power couple Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are finally sharing their love story in this Witch Weekly interview!

50 (First) Dates with Hermione Granger by HufflepuffMommy - G, WIP - Draco Malfoy sets his heart on romancing Hermione Granger, but she has short-term memory loss; she can't remember anything that happened the day before. So every morning, Draco has to woo her again. Her friends are very protective, and Draco must convince them that he's in it for love. Plot (andsummary) taken from the movie "50 First Dates" for the Dramione RomCom fest!

About Time by WordsmithMusings - E, WIP - When Draco's Father reveals to him that the men in their family have the ability to travel back in time, he uses his newfound gift to do many things - save a life, be a better friend, reconnect with a witch, and fall in love.

All's well that ends well (to end up with you) by weestarmeggie - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger is all set to be the maid of honor at her best friends wedding. She is taken back when she finds out that the best man is none other than her ex-fiance.

Away by In_Dreams - E, WIP - Desperate for a change of pace, Hermione unknowingly commits to a home exchange with Pansy Parkinson and finds herself swept up in the chaos of New York City and into the arms of Draco Malfoy. Dramione/Hansy. Loosely inspired by The Holiday.

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19 - T, WIP - Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer.

Chasing the Future by Rdlentz8 - T, WIP - An unusual and anonymous Patronus finds a frustrated Hermione alone in the library and talks to her about being lonely. Could this be the push she's needed to change her fate? Inspired by A Cinderella Story. There are direct quotes from A Cinderella Story.

Domino Effect by KoraKwidditch - M, WIP - Resolved to live her life in Muggle London, Hermione Granger finally felt free. Free from the Ministry, free from her celebrity status and everything that entailed. But who knew that one cataclysmal incident would lead her straight into the Malfoy's den and down a series of unfortunate events? At least they think she's a Muggle.**A Dramione retelling of While You Were Sleeping**

Fairytales and Wishes by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - All Scorpius wants is for Hermione to be a nice step mother, but somehow that sort of gets lost in translation with his accidental magic.

Flipping Through the Pages by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy had a fascination with a popular book series and its writer. His life changes when he meets her.

The Hate List by bethelson - T, WIP - While chaperoning the post graduation trip, Hermione and Draco find themselves wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night, fruitlessly searching for the seventh years they were supposed to be in charge of. What Hermione doesn’t know, is that those seventh years struck a bargain with Draco to keep her occupied so they could sneak out for a last hurrah before they all head back to London. So in his efforts to derail her search, he convinces her to join him in their own night of frivolity. As they paint the city red, they slowly learn to let their guards down, and find that putting the past behind them allows them to finally focus on the present. ___ My contribution to the Dramione RomCom Fest!

Hollywood & Vine by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead), msmerlin - M, WIP - As the manager of an occult bookstore currently renting a room from an old friend and living paycheck to paycheck, Hermione wasn’t exactly living the Hollywood dream. But her life is turned upside down when a chance encounter with Tinseltown’s current heartthrob, Draco Malfoy, leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about life and love. or the one in which Hermione unintentionally falls in love with a movie star.

Home is Where the Heart Is by lrs002 - T, one-shot - A rewrite and Draco/Hermione look at basically the last scenes of the movie Sweet Home AlabamaOr in the other words: The Wedding and the Kiss

How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days by GracefulLioness - E, WIP - Hermione will do anything to prove to her boss at Witch Weekly that she's ready to take on more serious topics, including dating a man just to drive him away for the sake of her next column, How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days. But pushing Draco Malfoy away proves to be a challenging task, perhaps because he's got ten days to make her fall in love with him. Inspired by How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

It Happened One Knight by Klawdee - T, WIP - “A spoiled heir running away from his family is helped by an old classmate, who is actually a journalist in need of a story.” Based off of the 1934 film, It Happened One Night

It's All In The Malfoy Family by TwilightToMidnight - M, one-shot - Over a decade of longing and desire comes to fruition one night. Not quite the way Hermione expected but definitely with a bang. Everyone and their dog seem to be working against her. For the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest. Loosely based off Sabrina (1954 - with Audrey Hepburn).

Love, Actually in Dramione by Blessedindeed - G, one-shot - I absolutely love the movie "Love, Actually" and was so excited to make some art pieces from a few of the more memorable scenes! Many thanks and kudos to QuinTalon & NuclearNik for hosting and being such amazing encouragers to everyone! I cannot wait to dive into all these fun pieces!!

Love, Hermione by pandora_rose_xo - G, WIP - When Hermione leaves some personal letters lying around in a sleepy haze, Dobby comes across them, and trying to be helpful delivers them to their recipients. Who were never supposed to see them.

Metamorphosis by persephone_stone - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy is king of Hogwarts High—student body president, captain of both the water polo and basketball teams, and boyfriend of Astoria Greengrass, the hottest girl in school. That is, until said girlfriend returns from Spring Break with some unexpected news: she’s dumping him for a college boy. Now, Draco is on a mission to win her back. And who better to help him turn into a more intellectual, cultured version of himself than Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in school? As he and Hermione spend time together, will Draco learn how to be the right type of boyfriend for Astoria? Or will he instead learn that maybe Astoria is not the right type of girl for him? Written for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on the 90’s teen romcom She’s All That.

Midnight in Paris by Aneiria - E, one-shot - ‘Granger,’ Draco replied, casting a quick wandless charm to clean his own clothes. ‘Want to watch the magic you’re casting next time? Whatever spell that was, it nearly took both of us out.’ Hermione’s face settled into a frown of confusion. ‘I thought that was you,’ she said, hesitantly. ‘I wasn’t using magic.’ They both looked away at the same time, taking in their surroundings. ‘Where are we?’ Hermione wondered out loud, as she spun on the spot and took in the sights. It was the wrong question, really.

My Big Fat Muggle Wedding by BiscuitsForPotter - G, one-shot - Draco's gotten more used to having Muggles as future-in-laws, but what about his parents?

No More Waiting by anchoredto717 - T, one-shot - The end of Hogwarts, an impending Mastery, and confirmation that Hermione is well and truly over Ronald Weasley: three factors that push Draco into a place he never imagined. Is he really going to Harry Potter’s house party? A one shot heavily inspired by the 90s teen classic, Can’t Hardly Wait.

Off the Rails by RoseHarperMaxwell - E, WIP - For the Dramione RomCom Fest 💚 My adaptation of the movie Trainwreck (Amy Schumer/Bill Hader), featuring Draco in Amy's role. “Pans.” Draco’s head falls back petulantly. “I can't interview Granger, especially not about how she's healing Potter. Neither of them are going to want to talk to me. Make Creevey do it.” “No, you'll do it. And don't sulk at me, Draco.” Pansy shuts him down immediately, not that he expected to talk her out of it. She gives assignments, not suggestions. “Old Quidditch rivalries. Gryffindor Princess confiding in the Prince of Slytherin, with a side of The Boy Who Lived. You’re the only one for it.” She drops her pen on her notepad with finality. “She’s also fit as hell now. I’d even fuck her, so our readers will be drooling over her. This is easy, Draco. Don’t fuck it up.”

One Thing We've Got by IrisCalasse - M, WIP - Over a decade after the Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy is a broke socialite straddling the Muggle and magical worlds. One day a new neighbour moves in his residential complex. What has happened to Hermione Granger to make her hide from Ronald Weasley? If Cormac McLaggen is gay, why is he hanging around Granger so much? And why does her cat seem to know way too much about everything? Based on the plot of Breakfast at Tiffany's, but set in 2012 London with a magical twist. Updates every 16th of the month.

Pin down your heart by hiyas - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger contemplates a door when Destiny comes knocking.

Playing Cupid by tygermine - T, one-shot - Set It Up AU.

Pretty Witch by TakingFlight48 - E, WIP - When confronted with the opportunity to take on an alter ego - Hermione Granger, Potion's Mistress and the Wizarding World's Golden Girl became Vivian Roberts - London's weekend escort. For three years she lived in this duality until Draco Malfoy, lost in Soho and driving a precious DB6, wound up uncovering her secret. This is the tale of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy finding a balance between work and love through the guise of fake dating, unacknowledged feelings, and Hermione not wanting to let go of a part of herself that is no longer serving her.

Promises, Promises by Musyc - T, one-shot - Lawyer and social work advocate Hermione Granger is one signature away from fulfilling her dream to have a house-elf education program. All she needs is to seal the deal, and Draco Malfoy has promised the full support of Malfoy and Son Developments. But the owner of the property is balking, there's a new buyer in the mix, and a promise isn't a contract.

The Proposal by FaeOrabel - M, WIP - When Head of Creatures Division of the DMLE, Hermione Granger, is pushed into a corner regarding a new marriage law she doesn't want to comply with, she gets the brilliant idea to stage an engagement with her long time, loyal assistant, Draco Malfoy. Draco goes along with the charade on the condition she gets him promoted to a new position. A deal set, they prepare to fool not only the Minister of Magic, but Hermione's best friend, and Draco's entire family. What could go wrong? Just the threat of Azkaban should they fail.

PS I love you by emotionalsupporthufflepuff - M, WIP - After a tragic accident, Hermione must reintroduce Draco to a life they've built far away from home. She recieves unexpected help in a series of letter written by Draco himself before the accident...

Regrets Only by nztina - T, WIP - Draco and Hermione are the best of friends - until Hermione goes off to teach at Hogwarts and Draco realises that he doesn’t just miss her. Upon her return to London, he intends to reveal his feelings, but she has a surprise of her own, one that will definitely put a damper on Draco’s plans. Draco. Hermione. And...Hermione’s fiancé?

Restless in Ripon by QuinTalon - T, WIP - Scorpius Malfoy wants his father to be happy again and as his grandfather often told him, a Malfoy always gets what he wants. A nosy radio host, well-meaning friends, and fate will help bring two lonely souls together. Well, that and one tenacious eight-year-old.

Rushing Back by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy is thirty, surviving, and very much not thriving. He's near the utter end of himself when he experiences the worst of all possible bad days--a double betrayal that rocks him to his core. Unmoored, untethered, he winds up in a strange place, where he begins an adventure through time that will change the course of his life. A time travel fic with a twist on the movie "13 Going on 30."

Say Anything by MidnightValkyrie - G, 9 Chapters - To know Draco Malfoy is to love him. Hermione Granger is about to know Draco Malfoy. Written and created for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on Say Anything.

She's the Snake by monsterleadmehome - E, WIP - In a universe where Voldemort never came back, Harry lives with Sirius, and Dumbledore isn't dying, the worst thing the Golden Trio has to contend with is their grades and Quidditch matches... oh, and the recent magical attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns. Harry is sure Malfoy had something to do with it, and though Hermione doesn't agree, her sarcastic offer somehow turns into her latest nightmare: to go undercover as a boy in the Slytherin dorms and find out what's really going on. And maybe throw a Quidditch game or two. But there's one thing she hasn't prepared for: falling in love with the boy she's supposed to be spying on.

Signed and Sealed by niffizzle - M, WIP - She owns a children's bookstore. He runs a corporation buying significant shares of small businesses. Never in their lives have Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy gotten along — or so they think.

Timing is Everything by anne_ammons - M, 7 Chapters - Draco Malfoy is your average bachelor living an average bachelor's life, until he crosses paths with his former classmate, Hermione Granger. Strike that - when has Draco Malfoy ever been average? A retelling of the 1994 movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Dramione-style.

A Trip to Kouloura Beach by rennaissance_woman - one-shot - A day at the beach, what could happen?

The Truth About Kneazles and Crups by samkablam7 - T, WIP - When Draco Malfoy started hosting his wizarding radio show The Truth About Kneazles and Crups, he had no idea that it would bring Hermione Granger back into his life. He also didn't know that they would both be interested in each other. The only problem? She thinks that the radio host she's interested in is his best friend and Pro-Quidditch-player-wannabe, Blaise Zabini.

Untitled Marital Crisis Comedy by Darlingheart - G, one-shot - Draco is rich, handsome, and most importantly, excellent with the ladies. Harry Potter is not. Which is where Draco comes in. With Draco’s help Harry will learn there’s more to life than being a one-woman man. But what happens when Draco meets someone who changes his mind? And what does Hermione Granger have to do with it...

A Woman of Some Dignity by mcal - G, one-shot - That seemed to get his attention. “What are you—of course I respect you, you daft witch!”

“Your actions today show the opposite!” I answered. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a woman of some dignity and I’d like to shower in peace. You’ll kindly wait half an hour before Apparating back to my flat.”  Hermione's not one for diaries, but it's been a week to say the least. It all started off with a confusing meeting with Draco Malfoy in her office, and... well, Hermione thought maybe recording her thoughts on the events would help her process. She isn't wrong.

You lost and lonely, You just like heaven by Wake_The_Dragon - T, WIP - Dramione Romcom Fest. Hermione Granger had needed something new and a change of scenery was a good start. What she hadn't counted on was renting a flat with an annoying (if handsome) ghost, who claims he isn't dead. Somehow, helping out a ghost and falling in love were two things she hadn't bargained for.

You Wish by Talonwillow (Ehollis303) - T, WIP - What makes a bad case of "Black Cat Flu" more tolerable? Young Perseus is learning that hearing about dueling, torture, revenge, giants, dementors, chases, true love, and miracles from his Grandfather Scorpius certainly makes things easier- If the man would finish the story that is. A story about love, where not even death can keep the beautiful feisty stable-girl and her sometimes irritating one true love apart. Together they must battle the evil Lord Voldemort through an adventure crossing the magical and fairy tale realm.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

[nightofnyx8]

Thank you so much to @lantur, @roseofbattles, @megthemighty, @fullmetalscullyy, and @lastwagontrainhopper for the tag! Love you all! <3

How many works do you have on AO3? 16 😊 12 are from Fullmetal Alchemist, and 4 are from the Batman/Teen Titans category.

What's your total AO3 word count?

86845

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Someone to Watch Over Me—This one is very dear to me, because it was my first time creating an OC and I just fell in love with Dr. Kallen. I love outside perspectives so much because I get to explore Royai through different eyes and I find it very insightful. It was also fun to research a bunch of medical procedures and the 1900s hospital environment in general!

In My Tender Embrace—This one has my heart, as it took so much empathy and love to write, and it also really helped me explore Riza’s character in relation to motherhood what that meant after Ishval. It was so very very hard to write about her miscarriages and the toll it took on her and Roy, but it was also beautiful to me to help them both heal and strengthen each other with my favorite hurt/comfort.

The Moments to Remember—This is the first Royai fic I wrote (and also my least favorite haha). I mostly wrote it because my family was stressing me out about planning my own wedding, and some of that frustration leaked into the fic haha. I’d probably change a couple things if I went back to it, but it has some nice domestic Royai towards the end.

Hold Me Close—Ahhh this one is such a guilty pleasure! I loved writing these one-bed prompts so much, and it’s also some good practice for me to write some more intimate scenes. I haven’t written full on smut yet, but that might change in the last chapter oooooppppps.

The First Thing He Checked—This was one of my favorite pieces to write! I got to explore Berthold’s character a bit, and of course Roy just gets to save the day at the very end. I’m such a sucker for “Are you hurt?” tropes and this one was such a lovely character comparison piece to write.

Do you reply to comments, why or why not? Yes! It means the world to me that someone took the time to read through something I’ve written, and even more so that they would leave their thoughts on it, and it’s a way I can express my gratitude for that! Plus, I sometimes learn something from other people’s perceptions of the piece and can sometimes inspire new scenes or ideas.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Most definitely The Distance Between Us. Not only because both Roy and Riza are, well, dead—but also because that whole fic was just a heartbreak and a half to write.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Probably “I’m Only Me When I’m With You,” because not only were Roy and Riza free of the usual war criminal trauma, but it was also like the most satisfying ending to write ever with that slow burn college dorks in love (ahh look, it’s an AU, go figure).

Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written? I don’t think I will since I like overanalyzing too much. Like my current WIP is all about unfolding the events towards the Promised Day, and Arakawa’s making me read between the lines to figure out what in the actual heck was Roy’s master plan. Adding another fandom into that would probably just make my brain explode.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? I believe I received one comment on my old fanfiction account once back in the day.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I’ve never written full-on smut, I tend to either write it non-explicatively or imply it somehow. I’m trying to decide which way to go on the last chapter of Hold Me Close, and depending on what I decide the rating will have to change. Favorite guilty smut to read: drunken confessions, dom/sub (hi @lantur), basically anytime Roy and Riza go undercover and things…happen, and secret relationships.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have not, thankfully 😊

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but @klainelynch did a podfic of “Endgame” that I still haven’t quite recovered from.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I’d love to! It sounds fun!

What’s your all-time favourite ship? Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye—Such a wonderful dynamic and I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I might finish I’d Still Choose You someday, but it’s a fandom that I don’t write for anymore unless someone requests it, and I just don’t have the same fervor for it as I used to.

What are your writing strengths? Hmm, I think that I do well conveying emotions in a real and grounded way. Some of my fics deal with some hard topics, and I always want the emotions felt by the reader to be well earned and rich instead of empty or fake. I like my writing style as well, and I feel like I learn something new with each fic I write.

What are your writing weaknesses? Random spelling and tense errors that slip past the editing stage, and it’s something I’m continually working on. I also feel like my prose and flow of the piece can feel a bit mechanical at times.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I've included words in different languages in some of my fics, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable writing full dialogue unless it was Spanish, the only other language I’m fluent in.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Percy Jackson, back when I was 13!

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? I’d have to say Heartbeat, because those two pieces required a lot of empathy and research and love. And though it broke my heart to write that story for Roy and Riza, I put a lot of heart into it and it helped me to grow as a writer. That’s also the fic where the comments have humbled me the most, because it gets into some real-world issues that can bring up some hard emotions that I wanted to treat with the utmost respect.

Tagging @bringingglory @musing-and-music @nightglider124 @lightdusk96 and anyone else who wants to haha :)

[huigusu]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES: When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you so much to @cloudylotus​ and @wendashanren​ for tagging me for this set ❤ (please check out their respective posts here and here as well 🥰) and to the members of mdzsnet who started this!

1. Planning

I try to alternate between gifsets based on quotes and gifsets based on a single scene for the cql edits I create! This is because the ones based on quotes require significantly more thinking for me to come up with scenes to fit, alongside getting all of them to adhere to one colour scheme and then inserting the typography, rather than just me focusing on a single scene 😅 This time it was time for me to pick a quote, which I usually do from my #words tag on my tumblr where I like to collect poetry I resonate with.

“Oh, let my chest split open, let my blood spill over, body be still! I’ve bled for you, and you won’t even show me your face.” - Yi Kwangsu (via skogenflicka)

For the quote used in this set, I had thought that it fit wangxian so I had already tagged it to find later 😄 I also searched it up to read a little more on the background of the story and author and was surprised to find that it was from a short story on gay, unrequited love, which made it somehow more appropriate as I wanted to fit lwj’s perspective during his mourning years.

To select the scenes, I split the quote up into four lines and wrote the summary of the the scenes that demonstrated them quite literally, as in the things lwj did for wwx out of love even when wwx was pushing him away, + ep number and timestamps for easier gif creation. I knew that I wanted to focus on text effects too so the 3rd gif was specially picked for the horizontal movement of lwj across the frame.

2. Creating

- oh, let my chest split open (wen brand at the cold springs)

- let my blood spill over (blood running down his hand as he holds onto wwx)

- body be still! (lwj holding the rods as punishment for visiting burial mounds)

- i’ve bled for you, and you won’t even show me your face. (wwx pushing lwj’s hand off his and turning away)

I use Handbrake to isolate the scenes I want and then Photoshop to import and pare down the number of frames. I favour larger gifs, especially so that there’s room for the typography, so these were the usual 540px ratio across for cropping. For the first gif in this set, I didn’t have the special episodes downloaded so I used a screen recorder to get the needed frames of lwj’s chest brand! I remember not being happy enough with the length/framing of the brand from the regular episodes. I didn’t cut out his nipple and so many tags I see talk about it 😂

Colouring

Okay so! I knew I wanted to try out a darker colouring as the ones I do are more bright, so I went to look for tutorials and I found this psd that had a good effect for what I wanted after I modified/removed many of the layers. I wanted to work with existing colours already within the chosen scenes rather than modifying or emphasising them to go with the muted, anguished mood of the quote. The colour scheme thus became dark, maroon red (wwx) from the blood and wwx’s tassel, as well as turquoise (lwj) from the water and lwj’s robe. I then added a channel mixer layer and selective colouring layers to make the turquoise of the waters that the psd had removed stand out more, and then another vibrance layer and an additional selective colour so that I could match the blues/reds across gifs. Thankfully, I could copy this colouring over to the other gifs with a few alterations of hue/saturation, curves and levels 😊 After colouring, I resize, denoise, and sharpen the gifs.

Typography

I really wanted to work with some text effects and get out of my comfort zone in this one. In line with the three parts of the first line of exclamation in the quote (and the parallel structure for the first two parts which I found hit so hard 😭), I wanted to highlight the alliteration I found in them - the words ‘split’, ‘spill’, and ‘still’. For the first two gifs, I decided on linear gradient overlays at 45 degrees + taupe drop shadows with the colour from the colour scheme other than the colour already in the gif. In the second gif, I used the pen tool to draw a line (in blue below!) that followed the curvature of their hands, then pasted the text in. I realised that I had to draw a separate line for the word ‘spill’, which after a lot of trial and error turned out to be much simpler after turning off the first pen layer visibility (the new line kept connecting to the first 😓)

As for the third gif, I initially thought of masking each frame to make the words appear as lwj moved from left to right, then I remembered that using the ‘overlay’ blend mode on the text hides it when it is on top of the colour black! 😄 In this case, lwj’s hair is black so I just had to position the words properly so that the words ‘body be’ would reveal themselves while giving time for the word ‘still’ to also have a nice effect after. (If you look closely you can see them a little in lwj’s hair 😅) The word ‘still’ took a lot longer to figure out, but in the end using ‘difference’ for the overall text layer and ‘pin light’ for the dark maroon colour overlay gave the clearest dark red effect as the camera panned.

Finally, in the last gif, I wanted to have the effect of the word ‘face’ change from a dark maroon gradient to turquoise with wwx’s hand moving lwj’s away to have it be a bit symbolic I guess 😅 of wwx’s leaving lwj? The ‘linear burn’ setting for the overall text layer (solid turquoise) and ‘difference’ for the gradient overlay (maroon) ended up working best to make the red disappear the moment wwx’s hand ran over the word, unlike other settings where the colour looked mixed/too messy.

3. Posting

I usually save the gifs and look at them on tumblr to see if I need to adjust any colours to match better or make them more vibrant (and ask yan what she thinks HAHA). These were fine, so I wrote the caption to summarise the source of the quote, added links to research and the op of the quote on tumblr, and wrote my tags. If it’s a post with translations of what the characters are saying/from the novel I typically take more time to edit the translations/do my own translation. I check if it is loading fine on mobile and edit the saved draft if necessary, then I post! 💕

Tagging but no pressure please!! 💗

@lanwuxiann for this amazing wangxian wedding night edit 🤧🤧🤧 that had me yelling into my pillow

@inessencedevided​ for this heartbreaking nie brothers set (which included manhua scenes!!)

@lan-xichens​ for this really lovely wwx + lotus pier edit, the colouring of which i think about from time to time

@mylastbraincql​ for this gorgeous jyl set with soup set with such pretty blending

@still-snowing for this beautiful piece of wangxian art about lwj holding wwx’s hands through the years that i teared up over multiple times

[jadelotusflower]

April 2021 Roundup

Welp - a few days late on this, but I’ve had a busy week, including finding a blue-tongue lizard in my house. I have no idea how or why the poor thing got in or where it thought it was going, but it gave me quite the shock. After some trial and error I was able to herd it into a box and release it in the backyard, where I suspect it’s made a home in my compost bin.

Other than that, this month I was lucky enough to live see my first live musical in over a year - The Wedding Singer. I love the movie and have listened to songs from the Broadway cast album, but this is the first time a professional production has been staged here. It was enormously fun, with an exuberant cast and tongue firmly in cheek. It was so nice to be back in a theatre (with social distanced seating) after everything was cancelled last year.

Reading

David Copperfield (Charles Dickens) - I’ve never really read much Dickens outside of A Christmas Carol, but I enjoyed the Iannucci film so much last year I decided to go back to the source material. I was surprised at how much that adaptation retained from a novel so large, at least in terms of important plot points, but then there’s a great deal of characters sitting in rooms and talking about things only tangentially related to the plot. It was an enjoyable read and of course Dickens is a witty writer, even if I found some parts a bit tedious - anytime Mr Micawber or Mr Peggotty shows up my eyes tended to glaze over. But the novel is dense with so many intersecting characters and plots that  I can certainly see why it’s been well read and much studied. 

A Column of Fire (Ken Follett) - the last (chronologically) novel of the Kingsbridge series, this time set in the 16th Century amid the Catholic/Protestant conflicts in England and France, but also touching on Spain, Switzerland, the Netherlands - even the Caribbean. Follett’s favourite tropes are all here; lovers kept apart by circumstance, despicable villains with too much pov page time, rape as a plot device, the apathy/self serving nature of kings and queens. Ned Willard is a typical Follett male (self insert) hero, and as usual it’s the female characters who are far more interesting - Margery the devout but conflicted English Catholic, and Sylvie the enterprising and determined French Protestant. Both are the object of Ned’s affection, which I suppose is telling, and Follett desperately needs to learn how to write some other kind of romantic plot.

Of course it packs in the historical events for them to witness and/or participate in, from the end of Mary I’s reign all the way to the Gunpowder Plot - but it does feel that the latter is rushed in at the end and the novel probably could have ended at the Armada. While I did enjoy the broadened scope, a part of me missed the locality of Kingsbridge as a microcosm of England - this book was more concerned with the macro perspective where the other books (particularly Pillars) was effective in telling the story through Kingsbridge-as-a-character. On the other hand, I did enjoy the France side of the plot (mostly for Sylvie) that covered the machinations of the Guise family, the struggles of French Protestants, and events such as the St Bartholomew’s Day massacre (a rather harrowing section).

Watching

Shadow and Bone (season 1) - I went into this show completely cold (other than the trailer and general excitement on my dash), and really enjoyed it. Alina was a bit generic spunky heroine at first, but she grew on me by the end although I can’t say I really cared much about any of the romantic plots (and want to stay faaaaar away from the discourse). It was the Crows were the real draw for me, and while I was aware that their material came from later books, for me (not knowing any better) their integration into the Grisha plot was seamless. 

While I was impressed by the worldbuilding I could have done with a bit more exposition - I still don’t know who the Shu and Suli are, where Fjerda is in relation to Ravka and what the basis of the conflict between them is. On the other hand, I can appreciate they resisted the urge to do too much “as you know”-ing and assume the rest of the world will be revealed as it becomes relevant. Still, I think if shows can learn one thing from Game of Thrones, it’s the value of finding some way of presenting a map to the audience to give some geographic perspective - a few times I did find myself needing to think about which side of the Fold the characters were on at any given time, and have no idea where Nina and Matthias were meant to be at the end. But then I’m the person who constantly flips to consult the map at the front of a book while reading - I need to see it.

I’ll add my disappointment to the RH fans at the chance of seeing Lucy Griffiths again, only for her role as Luda to be a brief flashback that saw her promptly stabbed to death (her entire demo reel could be made up of death scenes at this point). It’s a real shame, because she is perfect for a series like this (in a role like Genya perhaps), and it seems like such a waste.

Mighty Ducks: Game Changers (episodes 1-6) - The new strategy for family entertainment: taking a property that was popular with young Gen X-ers and/or Elder Millennials in their childhoods, and rebooting/reviving it as a show they can now watch with their own kids. The premise is simple enough - the Ducks are now a corporate juggernaut of the live long enough to see yourself become the villain variety, cue a new rag tag underdog hockey team, training at the run down ice rink owned by a disillusioned Gordon Bombay.

It’s mildly entertaining, the child actors are all very good and I’m always here for Emilio Estevez, although I can do without the inevitable romance with Lauren Graham (the team’s coach and mother of one of the kids). But the most recent episode, where a bunch of the og Ducks (sans Charlie) appear, coupled with liberal use of the Ducks Theme, hit me right in the childhood. They got me! They got me with the nostalgia! Because I am a sucker.

The Handmaid’s Tale (season 4, episodes 1-3) - I was very frustrated with this show last season, because it seemed more concerned with endless extreme close ups of Elizabeth Moss emoting rather than telling a coherent story. June is a character with the thickest plot armour I’ve ever seen, while almost every person she comes into contact with meets a bitter end. Rather than the slow domino effect to topple the regime depicted in the original novel and its sequel The Testaments, the show is moving at a breakneck pace, while somehow little actually happens except rinse repeat torture/endurance porn.

More interesting is the Canada side of the story with Moira and Emily (the excellent Samira Wiley and Alexis Bledel), and the difficulties for refugees adapting to life outside of Gilead, which wasn’t explored in either novel and could use more focus in the show. Ann Dowd is absolutely compelling as Aunt Lydia, and a far more interesting villain than the Waterfords (whose scenes have become interminable) yet funnily enough doesn’t get the devoted close-ups, long speeches, or writer interest they do. I’m still watching, if only to see if the show follows her story in The Testaments or not. 

Writing

Not a very productive month on the writing front at all, I can’t even bring myself to look at the meagre word counts, so I’m going to let them roll over into May.

[lizzybeth1986]

I don't think you play TRR/TRH anymore but you should see what they did to Kiara in the newest chapter. It's so dumb and makes me so angry, especially considering the current climate of events. I've already seen people on Reddit be like "but we helped her overcome her trauma" (we didn't lol) and someone called her the c-word, very classy. Honestly PB's been low key racist in the past but all the stuff right now makes it high key...

(Apologies for the long post and not being able to place this under a cut)

I'm pretty glad I got these anons because truth be told I wasn't sure how many people - besides the few that I already knew were constantly speaking about Kiara's treatment in the books - would care enough to ask any questions about this. Most of the posts I saw expressed a disturbing eagerness to throw her under the bus, without exploring nuance or asking questions, and at this point I'm not very surprised.

I've always maintained that the treatment for Kiara is what happens when both the writers and the fandom are heartless, and these past few weeks have only been proof of that.

There are questions you could raise about this finale re: Kiara - questions almost no one seems to bother asking. I have three:

1. In this Coventus Nobilis...how is it that I see four Heads of House, and only one heir? 

2. If Kiara - who is not head of house - is supposed to represent Castelserraillian instead of her father Hakim (who presides over that estate), why do I not see Madeleine? Why do I not see Penelope? 

3. Why are we suddenly seeing Adeleide  popping up out of practically nowhere to rep Krona/Fydelia, and Landon conveniently rep-ping Portavira?  

Some of the answers to these questions lie in the questions themselves. Why else would Madeleine and Penelope not be present in this meeting - if it weren't to purposely distance them from this awful moment? After all, both of them have inbuilt subplots ready for the next book that would require interactions with the core group. How else do you think the writers could ensure we kept coddling them and pandering to them in Book 3, except by distancing them from this "betrayal"?

Why else would the narrative choose to pit Kiara - the lone woman of colour we'd been shitting on for most of this series - against Olivia - the white woman who has been given innumerable individual PoV scenes and her own mini-book (and whose reputation we had to help rebuild in said mini book whether we cared about her stupid duchy or not). 

Why else would they force Kiara to alert us mere minutes before the meeting begin, if not to distract us with crumbs ("See? At least we wrote her as warning you. Of course we don't hate her!"). 

Why else would you have Olivia and Kiara pitted against each other like this - if not to show these two women side by side, on opposing ends -  and compel us to believe that the white woman we spent 4.5 books propping up and pampering, is the most loyal one.  When in fact we have done absolutely nothing to deserve any fucking loyalty from Kiara or her family to begin with! (Ezekiel and his white bride notwithstanding).

What we finally got as a result, was a narrative that (as @queen-of-effing-everything summed it up when I discussed this with her) in one full sweep "glorifies Olivia, shields Madeleine and Penelope and sets up Kiara". Very few of us even noticed. And even if we did notice, is there any guarantee that we would care??

Remember how I mentioned in my last ask that I wished we expanded the same energy that we did with Aurora, to speak up against the ill-treatment of other black characters? Kiara was undoubtedly one of those.

After this, we as a fandom will speak very easily now of her "betrayal". We will call her the b-word and the c-word. We will boast of how we will "take her down" along with Adeleide and Landon and Bartie Sr. We'll boast about how we "never liked her" to begin with, as if doing so required some...idk exemplary foresight. We will make memes about how Olivia was "the only bitch we ever respected". We will make huge, sweeping claims about how Kiara was our "friend" and how (as you've mentioned, anon) we "helped her overcome her trauma" (!!!!) and claim by that token that  we were entitled to good treatment from her. I'm pretty sure when TRH3 finally comes out, her every word and action will be screenshot, put up on blogs, mocked and torn down just so we can write essays on how awful she is. 

Yet I saw very little of this energy in Book 3, where the MC could first emotionally manipulate her into supporting the Unity Tour, and where we actively suspected her  at a time when she was traumatized. At most there was some lukewarm acknowledgement of how she "deserves better", all while people still continued to write fanfic that positioned her as creepy and obsessed and villainous.  Almost no one had a problem with Savannah not acknowledging Kiara's earlier support of her, and in fact I'd seen posts that clubbed her with the other ladies of the court who likely "treated Savannah badly". Her father Hakim was made to join the tour alongside her by default, without the expectations that Landon/Emmeline and Godfrey/Adeleide were allowed to have, and the fandom was mysteriously silent about Hakim being made to "bow to his knees" in a way the others did not have to. Very few people even bothered to  notice or talk about how often Penelope was allowed to hold the MC's baby, or how Kiara was never really allowed to hold her even once. Which "friend" treats someone like this??

When I finally published this essay on the treatment meted out to Kiara especially in Book 3, what I got was a lot of neat, but ultimately hollow, little platitudes about how Kiara "deserved better" (How and in what way? Who knows, who cares). Out of those many many people who reblogged and responded, only a handful held the MC and Drake in particular (and Maxwell, who thought it appropriate to joke about "one suspect down") accountable for choosing to suspect and interrogate just her, and for showing ZERO remorse in forcing her to reopen those wounds. How is it that we can judge Kiara for this latest "betrayal", yet pretend that the MC and Drake had nothing to do with the pain THEY caused to her? How is it that this fandom was so fired up over her comments, yet would have such a weak, muted, carefully-generalized response to the screenshots where Drake was openly suspecting her and optionally  minimizing her trauma? 

Following that, why should we be entitled to good treatment from Kiara when we never really gave her even half as much?? Why is it so easy to divorce characters from their words and actions in Drake/MC/Maxwell's case, but so hard for a character like Kiara? (One may claim this is because Drake and Maxwell are potential co-protagonists, but the aforementioned essay already proves that you as a main character can get punished for not treating a mere side character with kindness).

Another thing that fascinates and repulses me even further is how the fandom has created myths around this one character, and how PB has constantly leaned into these "characteristics" even though the text itself tells an altogether different story:

1. Kiara is a snob. This is especially hilarious considering that she is established in Book 2 as being the only person who befriended Savannah before her departure and cared about what happened to her when she left. Never once in the books has she looked down on us for class-related issues, or outright mocked people for not knowing the languages she knew. In fact, she was the first person to acknowledge our skills if we showed any before Lythikos in Book 1. On the other hand, Penelope can be uppity and look down on us in Book 1 (there is even a dialogue option in Chapter 10 that leads to her calling us a "commoner wench") if we don't do well, and yet she's a cinnamon roll.  Olivia can engage in snobbish , entitled behaviour without the fandom having a problem just because she's their favourite. Madeleine can look down on us and pretend for 3/4ths of the social season that we're not worth her time yet somehow Kiara is the snob. Okay. Okay. 😐

2. Kiara is "obsessed with" Drake and constantly comes on to him. This is said by the same group of people who saw Olivia fucking Nevrakis plant a WHOLE FUCKING SMACKER on Liam's mouth, and said..nothing. Kiara on the other hand, has admired Drake's abs once, mentioned she'd always liked Drake once, spoken normally to him about his sister once, flirted with him once (Paris tea party), and ordered a wine from him when he was bartending. In the next book she either looks at him wistfully or admires his suit. Yet somehow she's the creepy, annoying, stalkerish. Okay. Ooookay. 😑

(This one was particularly damaging, because post the TRR3 hiatus, all efforts from PB were focused on reversing Kiara's position as an alternative LI. This included "confirming" on livestream that her affections were one-sided, at a time when Olivia was finally allowed to have some romantic moments with a single Liam, pushing forward a buildup scene to Drake's eventual secret wedding that had him acting extremely rude and confrontational to Kiara mere minutes after suspecting her (while she was expressing joy at his upcoming wedding in his playthrough!!!), and involving a subplot where he openly and by default suspected her. Sure, he spends a minute to be nice to her and chat about trauma if the MC chooses. But that's like a drop of sewage water floating in an ocean of shit).

3. Kiara Pretended to Be Our Friend And Then Dropped Us: This is false. Kiara only ever promised to put in a good word for us to the rest of the court, no more, no less. And she fulfilled that promise. Otherwise she never pretended to be friends with us nor made friendly overtures either way. In fact if you're going to accuse anyone of duplicity, you have Penelope and Madeleine. Yet somehow Kiara is the dishonest one. Okay. Okay. 🙃

4. Kiara Was Insensitive To Penelope and Didn't Understand Her. I'm not sure how Kiara is supposed to magically understand something that her friend isn't telling her. Plus this argument deliberately leaves out the fact that she stood up for Penelope when people chose to be mean to her, and even explained to the MC that she employs "tough love" because she can't always be around to protect Penelope. It also leaves out how one-sided this friendship is and how Kiara is made to do most of the heavy work in this friendship. Meanwhile, at Kiara's most difficult time period, in Castelserraillian, Penelope says absolutely nothing as the MC forces Kiara to join the Unity Tour, while making bedroom eyes at Kiara's brother. In fact the only reason Kiara's brother even exists is to give Penelope a love interest. The Kiara-Penelope friendship practically revolves around Penelope. I have never really seen Penelope look out for Kiara or attempt to actually support her in any way, and Kiara was the one who got the knife wounds. Yet somehow I'm supposed to believe that Penelope's the better friend of the two. Suuuuure. 😡

And this steaming pile of crap doesn't just make its way into shitposts and short opinion posts. It creeps into fanfic and fandom opinions. It finds its way in the tags and in other social media. It eventually even finds its way into the books, even though nothing in the earlier narrative ever really supported these extremely stale takes. 

Because PB didn't care for Kiara the way they cared for their white characters, they had no problem framing her narrative the way this fandom so desparately wanted it. Book 3 has the MC claim behind her back that Kiara is stuck-up and acts like knowing ten languages makes her better than everybody else, even though this is not backed up by the text, and in fact you will never see any acknowledgement of how Madeleine forced Kiara to make herself sound "exotic" in Book 2, or of how Madeleine and the MC (optionally) could downplay or question her skills unless they wanted to use her. Also, Penelope is never allowed to be talked about like that no matter what she's done. PB even had a scene (in the Hana playthrough) where they aggressively retconned the events of Madeleine's bachelorette party, where Kiara supposedly shouted at Penelope until the latter cried, and Madeleine was the one "having fun". Kiara was literally being thrown under the bus to make Madeleine look better. Madeleine. Imagine that. Madeleine.

Given how desparate the fandom was to nitpick and overdramatize everything Kiara said and did, is it any wonder that the team got away with the writing they gave her in Book 3? Considering that all the false arguments I stated above have made a resurgence in the past few weeks or days...is it any wonder that the only "support" this fandom is capable of re: Kiara, is lukewarm platitudes, cold takes and rank hypocrisy??

Yes, we can hold PB solely/largely  accountable for the treatment meted out to Kiara now. They made these choices over and over, and continue to do so, while tossing us occasional crumbs of faux-sweet behaviour from the MC. And they did this in insidious ways, which were so hard to catch that even a Kiara stan like me had to observe multiple playthroughs just to unravel even half of what they'd done.

But let's not pretend a huge chunk of the fandom was just as responsible for this - with their unfounded opinions, their disgusting bias, their favouritism of white characters, their refusal to observe anything besides their favourites, and their godawful fanfiction where Kiara is a creep or evil or killing the virtuous main character. Out of the huge body of fanwork that I've seen for TRR that features Kiara - at least 90% of it features her stalking Drake, or harming the MC (particularly the Drake MC), or in cahoots with the villains, or generally being referred to as a creep (why Olivia, who kissed Liam without his consent in Book 1 and was entitled enough to be angry about him not returning her feelings in TRH1, never got this sort of writing - I fail to understand). There is a tremendous gap between the vitriol dumped on her when she does something the MC doesn't like, and the milquetoast response when harm is done to her. There have been times when I've had to comb through pages and pages of hate just to read even one positive post on Kiara in her own goddamn tag.

When the next book arrives, I know you folks will continue to gas up the white women in this book every chance you get, and mask your racist vitriol for characters like Kiara (and Hana, let's not forget the way y'all treat Hana) behind the same self-righteous judgements and the same tired, stale takes. I know that PB - despite what I will still believe is their hollow promises today - will write every single one of those stale takes into existence. All because it will be "justified", because Kiara is a "bad person" or "untrustworthy" or "fake". Whatever. Y'all can stick to Olivia The Black Hole and babysit Madeleine and Penelope, I guess. Kiara always deserved better than these writers and most of this fandom anyway.