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lowkeyerror · 2 months ago

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Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It��s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?” Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart. Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That’s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

#lowkeyerror #regina george x reader #regina george #cady heron #janis ian #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #damian hubbard #gretchen wieners #karen smith #aaron samuels

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darkniters · 1 year ago

Text

jschlatt who whispers to you

twitch dot tv slash jschlatt is online, and you’re well aware due to the loud personality voice schlatt has put on in the other room.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he yells, the sound echoing throughout the house. you usually check into his streams, but right now your busy figuring out your hours for work and are in no need for distractions.

you look around the living room quickly for a red pen, needing to circle something on the page, but your efforts deem useless. you suddenly remembered schlatt took one into his office with him to do a bit.

you didnt want to find a different red pen because you knew where that one was, so you quietly make your way down the hall before schlatts office.

his fans figured out about you through a lot of bits schlatt would make where he would tag you on twitter or tag any girl he posts on instagram with your username, so you weren’t a private couple, but you still weren’t twitch or youtube public.

you open the door timidly, trying to bring as little attention to yourself as possible. unfortunately for you, the shitty tiktok schlatt was watching just ended, and his spiel afterwards was done.

his head whipped to your direction, and he gave you a grin. you gave him a smile back, and he reached his hand out for you to grab.

you grab ahold of it and make your way behind his chair, head resting on the back of it as your hands snake their ways around his neck.

he speaks briefly to his audience, as he rocks the chair gently from left to right, moving your head along with it. before he looks up at you, eyes full of stars like he’s seen the greatest thing of the entire universe.

“whats wrong?” he whispers, gently. its not a breathy whisper, its just making his voice quieter so the mic can’t pick it up as well (it does still pick it up)

“i know you have a red pen in here and i really need it” you whisper quieter, the mic unable to hear you at all due to you being farther away and also a lot less loud than schlatt.

“oh right yeah,” he reaches to the left of his desk, and grabs the pen. “just be careful its a bit finicky.” he mumbles. his hands reach up to where yours rest around his shoulders, and he gently brings it to his lips, kissing the back of your palm gently.

you smile, take the pen from his grasp, and then peck your head down to kiss the crown of his head, his hair ticking your face. you then break away from him, and thats when you remember he was still live. your face briefly flushes.

schlatt also seemed to have forgotten, as he stares at you grinning as you leave, before he brings his full attention back to the screen. the chat is running like crazy, simply saying your name in all caps and many awws. schlatts cheeks are painted red.

“alright alright chat moment of weakness, lets get a move on.” he continues to stream, but it seems after that encounter; he seemed much happier for the remainder duration of the time live.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt hcs #schlatt headcanons

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yammpi3 · 2 months ago

Text

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision.

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could.

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work.

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus.

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind.

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already.

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw.

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit.

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel.

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public.

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace.

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes.

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow.

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace.

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered.

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night.

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness.

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper.

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins.

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin.

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive.

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left.

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer.

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo."

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise.

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions.

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin.

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside.

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly.

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink.

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release.

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..”

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry.

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him.

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm.

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope.

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

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risuola · 7 months ago

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VII — WHAT IF...? // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Tobirama never wanted children and not one of you ever brought the topic up, but now, as you grow more and more intimate and comfortable with each other you wonder, what if...?

contents: smut, reader discretion is advised — 2,1k words

a/n: i need to tell you guys that i'm so incredibely grateful for the positive feedback i got from you readers! i know that Tobirama isn't the most popular character in Naruto and i chose him to make this series about (because I love him, that's why) and it makes me so happy that you enjoy his little persona too! ❥ also, i'm very sorry for posting so rarely for this series, i was stuck in where to take the story now.

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

“God, I’m so damn busy.”

Tobirama’s low, deep voice rumbled against your skin as he kept latching his lips along the edges of you. You let your nails gently run across the pale flesh of his sides, your hands long gone underneath the dark ink-blue fabric of his blouse, yearning for the warmth of a man that has your heart in a tight grip for way longer than you’d ever suspect. The marks he was leaving at his wake matched the color to the ones you were painting on his back and you couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction when he hissed near your ear. The stinging sensation of your scratches fueled his fire even more and only seconds passed before your pants were pushed down and underwear got ripped into pieces. The heat of your core now exposed to his whims, starved tremendously for any touch of his, and you whimper – the sound nearly pathetic, as he moved his fingers along your dripping slit, spreading the slick and making their way around the pulsating bud.

“My love,” you breathed again, leaning your head against his peck, inhaling the subtle, fresh scent that always stuck to his body. A mixture of tangerine and pepper, a hint of sandal wood hovering above the soft undertone of morning dew and rain. “My god, I missed you.” You spoke, but what was leaving your mouth was incoherent, it was airy and broken; stuttered between the expert circles Tobirama was massaging right into your nervous system.

“I missed you too,” he replied, quiet against the crown of your head, taking in your aura and impatiently moving his fingers a little bit further, making them slip right into you. One by one, he was focused on stretching you out, the tight ring of muscles clenching around his digits as he moved them back and forth.

“Tobi, please–“ you whined, gripping onto his sides with enough force to ground yourself.

“You think you are ready for me?”

“I do, please,” there was no hint of uncertainty when you begged for him to fuck you. Right there, on his desk, in his office in the hokage tower. There was no worry in you, no thought about his brother few doors further down the hall, no nothing that could convince you that it wasn’t the best idea and it seemed your husband has just as little concerns because it didn’t take him long to be inside you.

A low, gravelly groan escaped his throat, vibrating against your lips that glued to his throat marked their way across the sensitive skin over his Adam’s apple. It’s been too long since he felt you that close, it’s been too long since he was able to just lose himself in you, be vulnerable in the loving embrace of your body, be the person he never got to be publicly and instead of thinking and analyzing, just letting himself feel. And then, he was sure, that if ever he wished to feel anything, it was you he wanted to experience. It was you since the day he saw you for the first time, led by a servant in your family palace, blinded and obedient but bearing a beauty that tainted his thoughts perpetually.

Tobirama will always remember the feeling of your body – the soft curve of your shoulder he kept his hand on to lead you out of your village, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheekbones when he took the blindfold off your face, revealing the eyes in which he got lost with no return. You were nothing more than a girl he just met back then, a wife-to-be but someone unknown and yet, his heart knew on the spot that things will change. And they did, he knew it’ll happen, but he wouldn’t dare to wish his life to turn out so dramatically different to what he predicted. Love was a feeling as foreign as fear to his heart. A heart he thought was frozen and nothing more than a dot in the constellation of organs that kept him alive. The beat in his chest has never had any more meaning than to keep his body going and the very same beat now goes crazy, rumbling against his ribs whenever he sees you. Tobirama knew his life will change, the very moment his head was filled with terror and uneasiness when Hashirama passed him the decision regarding the arrangement. He knew about all the shifts in his day to day life he will simply have to commit to and yet, the most vibrant of his dreams, the most brave and perverse could have never created what he had now. You.

You, on the desk he’s used to work at. You, with your plush thighs wrapped around his waist, your hands gripping onto him for just a fraction of support, panting out moans, so light and breathy, against his lips, quietly escaping only for his ears to hear. With your core clenching, aching to accommodate him whole and yet, greedy enough to take everything, to want more. Senju would never imagine he will be blessed enough to hear his name spoken with so much love he could actually feel it seeping through the sound of it.

You kept squeezing him and he kept losing his mind over every twitch your walls did around him. You were a work of art, he thought as his eyes followed the lines of your body. An arch of your back now prominent, and the only thing that kept you from falling flat onto the desk was a pair of his hands, strongly holding your waist to himself. Your eyes were absent, your mind long gone into the realm of pleasure and yet, your fingers stayed on his biceps, squeezing the flesh and wandering, hungry to have more of him.

“Tobi–“ you breathed out, the name just barely sliding on top of the air you were panting out and you pulled yourself closer to him. Your palms now found their way to his back, stretching the fabric of his blouse to feel the skin underneath it and you leaned into him, as he leaned into you. Your foreheads touched, noses squeezed together as the final moves of his hips brought both of you over the edge. Your breaths mingled together, a soft, broken sounds made for a cacophony of love you just shared and you shut your eyes to just feel him fully.

“Welcome back home,” your husband whispered finally, kissing your lips shortly after your smile acknowledged his words. The gesture was soft, languid and though you knew it was carrying much more than just concluding the sex. There was love that it carried, emotions unraveling with each movement of his mouth against yours and you felt the warmth spreading all over your body.

“I missed you too,” you replied, softly and quietly, slowly breaking the kiss off but not shying away from marking the line of his jawline with few more wet spots. “Let’s get cleaned, shall we?”

* * *

Watching Tobirama fight was one of your favorite things to do ever since you got to marry him. It amazed you every time you had a chance to witness his training and your husband never failed to take your breath away with how skilled and precise his movements are, how much control he has over nature releases and how well he wields the sword. Of course, the moment he offered you to join him while he trained with Kagami, you said yes without a second thought.

The boy from the clan of fire has become a part of your family in a way. Ever since you gave him a hand, helped him go through the traumatic events that happened with his biological parents, you kept an eye on him. With regular visits at his new home, you got to know his new parents – lovely people – and you really attached yourself to the little kid. He was growing so fast, warming your heart and soul as you watched the smile on his face and pinched his cheeks every time you had a chance, because soon he’ll be too big for you to do so any longer (you’ll try anyway). Kagami was a constant guest at your house, spreading his warm aura across the place where you and your husband live and making you smile every time you saw him, because the few days you got to take a close care of him were the sweetest memories you held onto. You’ll never forget the way he clung onto you, with trust and a kind of love that a child gives an adult that it feels safe with.

Tobirama grew to love the boy rather quickly – though he was reluctant to admit how fast it happened, but you knew he felt the intense need of care in just few days of little Uchiha in his life. Now it wasn’t a secret anymore – your husband openly treated the kid as if it was his own and even though he strongly believed that kids shouldn’t be exposed to war and violence, he was very supportive when it came to trainings. Even on the busiest days of his schedule, he always found a moment or two to spare for the cheerful child that came to visit the hokage tower every time he was around.

“Tired already?” Senju asked, watching the brunette gathering up from the green grass on one of the meadows that were more of a training field than a piece of greenery. An open space so big in comparison to the almost eight-year-old tiny human and yet he bravely raised up to his little feet, clenching his fingers around the handle of his kunai.

“No!” He called out, panted and a small smile tugged on your husband’s lips as he got into his stance yet again. It was a spectacle of trust and power and you admired your man for being able to perfectly calculate how much strength he can put into every move of his body to make the little one hustle just enough.

You, as you sat on the side, resting on the soft blanket and surrounded by homemade food you prepared to feed both boys after they’re done and some bandages and first aid supplies that you knew will be needed to tend scrapes and cuts that Kagami will most likely be covered in after the session. All those little, harmless wounds you’ll later kiss and wrap around, tickling the child and basking in the sweet sound of his giggles muffled by the pieces of rice and meat you’ll give him.

You smiled, then sighed, feeling a sentiment washing over you. A slight tension made your muscles twitch and soon you found yourself pressing a hand onto your belly. You wished to have children, not always – but now, as you found love in the village that confidently you call your cherished home, more and more often you catch yourself thinking.

Tobirama didn’t want any offspring, at least that’s what he told you few days after the wedding – as he was explaining to you the mechanisms of the arrangement and briefing you through his visions of the future between you and him, he mentioned that his brother will secure the bloodline, therefore he has no wish to have kids himself. It’s something you agreed on, then slightly intimidated by his cold and calm persona, but three years had passed since you and him got bonded by knot of matrimony and as you think of it, none of his predictions came to life.

Sometimes you chuckled mentally, knowing how far off is what you have now to what he told you he think will happen. It was meant to be loveless, it was meant to be dry and distant. He told you that he’s sorry for the future you were given to, that he’s not going to love you just like you deserve but then, he did just that. He swore he’s cold, that his heart isn’t capable of sharing feelings as romantic as love but Tobirama loves, and he loves hot. Every kiss and stolen touch with him burns right into your soul, warms you from the inside, makes you happy and cherished, and you knew, deep inside of your heart, that his mind changed long time ago. You knew, deep down, that he’s content with what you built together, that he’s happier than he ever would be if your marriage turned out as he thought it will.

And so, you wondered if his will to have children changed as well? You never talked about it with him, never asked and he didn’t as well. Lost in the constant rush of his busy schedule, from meeting to meeting and from fight to fight, Tobirama stayed quiet about the issue and you, now leading the anbu, never had guts to bring it up either. But now, as you sat there, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun, you wondered what if…?

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

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operationslipperypuppet · 11 months ago

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Fantasy High: Junior Year predictions that aren’t as much based in things I think will logically happen, but ones that either should happen or would be very fun/funny

Loose Duke reminiscent perception checks from Lou, constantly looking for Chungledown Bim.

Related, the return of Chungledown Bim, but they successfully escape him yet again.

Either a wedding between Hallariel and Gilear, or them having a kid. I just think Fig and Fabian would make great older siblings but also that they’d have a real hard time handling it.

Garthy O’Brien is at Mordred and it’s immediately clear that there’s something poly happening between them and Jawbone and Sandra Lynn.

Riz has some serious beef with another young licensed PI. This beef is mostly shown through Riz hissing at someone on the street, and they don’t meet this other person until episode 15. They’re pretty normal and the beef does not make sense.

A reveal that Porter is not evil or plotting something but that he was a member of Sandra Lynn’s adventuring party that she got kicked out of. Bonus if he was a deciding vote or the one who pushed her to leave. This would be fun to justify Fig’s paranoia a bit, but her reasoning was completely wrong. The best way for this reveal to happen would be for him to apologize (sincerely) to Sandra Lynn.

Adaine actually tries to include Alewyn in a lot of things, and they actually learn some important lore from Alewyn and she doesn’t put it forward in a condescending way.

Gorgug rolls up to Riz’s office, drags him out, and they go throw rocks at the river (like Riz wanted in Boys’ Night).

Another crab party live stream. That’s actually how the season opens. Kristen is crowned Crab King.

Someone suggests they go to a Drisden party. The boys scream “no” at the proposal.

Kristen succeeds in her first ever divine intervention roll (#BeardsleyBlessed)

Aguefort says something to Gorgug in the first episode about how difficult he finds him.

Gorgug changes his subclass. We had a lot of subclass changes at the end of fhsy and I think him focusing on artificing a bit more may cause him to refocus and not be as lost in rage as berserker works. The I’m going into a worry helps me think this lol

they start at level 11, there were talks of them double leveling post nightmare king forest but that wasn’t what happened with the one shots (which logistically makes a lot of sense to me). I also just think Adaine should get 6th level spells.

And finally, Brennan homebrews the spell Ice Feast, but only Adaine can cast it.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #adaine abernant #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #riz gukgak

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seat-safety-switch · 2 months ago

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"Get in the fucking car, loser. My name is Detective Tina Clownhater, I came from Upper Precinct, and we're going to the fucking circus. One of the clowns was found dead in among about 72 others stuffed into a tiny car, and we think it's Japanese."

"The car?"

"The clown."

I'd heard of Detective Clownhater before. Read some of her reports when they came around the inter-office mail. Circus division. She also did carnivals, which people think is the same thing, but really it isn't. As we rode in silence to the Carny District, I decided I wasn't going to like her. Mostly, it was because she still clung to an outmoded, indulgent, and inefficient mode of transportation known as the 2003 detective-issue Crown Victoria. My own City II Turbo would have been a much more enjoyable ride, but I didn't want to press the issue. Chief was already getting on my case about racking up the mileage per diem anyway.

Maybe I should introduce myself, too. My name is Archibald Shitpope, and I'm a detective for the city police. Every detective here specializes in something – they figured it was more efficient than having us all fight over the same books in detective school – and for me, my passion carried me to Japanese-made economy cars. You'd be surprised how often they crop up in my cases. This was going to be a bit outside of my remit, being a Japanese-made economy clown, but I'm a professional. I'd do the job.

I regretted that promise as soon as we stepped onto the crime scene. Besides the copious amount of blood and viscera thrown about the scene ("explosive decompression," explained Todd the CSI, in between Instagram updates of the most grotesque parts,) the clowns had been stuffed into a Fiat. An Italian-made shitbox. It's amazing they weren't burned alive. From what we could tell from interviews, the clown used to be Takenobu Unchipiero, a famous clown actor in his home country. Top of the industry, I was assured. After a series of gambling scandals, he was forced to retreat to North America, where our standards for clowns are much lower.

I was about to ask Detective Clownhater to buy some business-class tickets to Tokyo so we could "chase up some leads" – I wanted to buy an S660 while the auction market was still soft – but the amount of boiling rage behind her eyes indicated to me that she had already assumed I was going to do that. Instead, I returned to my work of checking the crime scene and interviewing witnesses, only intermittently pausing to take a look at the latest wheels posted to Up Garage's terrible website.

That's when Todd cracked it for us. While mopping up what was left of poor Takenobu, an artificial heart fell out. I couldn't help but notice its unique design: a triangular pump that spun eccentrically in a housing. A rotary engine, in other words. No normal person would have such a heart. Mr. Unchipiero was up to his neck in debt with the Wankel Mafia.

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sgt-tombstone · 5 months ago

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CoD/Military Writing Reference Masterlist

Here is a compilation of information (with references/links/citations) that I think the CoD fandom and fic writers in particular might find useful:

British Army:

Here is a list of ranks and abbreviations (with appropriate capitalization) (for anyone with the shinigami extension, sorry, it's the BBC)

Here is a list of the equivalent ranks of the British services and US Air Force (for some reason not the US Army or US Navy. Don’t ask me why lmao).

Here and here are some posts about the ranks in the 141 and general attitudes that they would hold for each other (and how others would see them)

Here is a detailed breakdown of the British Army organization (with average numbers and who is in charge of who).

Here is the wiki page for British Army uniforms (literally good luck, I’ve spent hours trying to figure out when soldiers wear what). As far as I can tell, the 141 would wear the No. 8 Combat Dress 90% of the time with the SAS beige beret. For formal events, they would wear the No. 2 Service Dress with berets instead of peaked forage caps. Interestingly, the Royal Regiment of Scotland can wear their No. 2 Service Dress with kilts (which I know Johnny would be livid about because he can’t). Super formal occasions are marked by the No. 1 Temperate Ceremonial, or “dress blues”.

Commissioned ranks are Second Lieutenant and above. These are members who hold positions of authority granted by formal documents of appointment signed by the monarch. In the US (which I am assuming is the same or similar in the UK), a commissioned officer has gone through officer training, which usually requires a university degree or a military equivalent.

Warrant Officers (WO) and Non-Commissioned Officers (NCO) are included in the enlisted ranks. They are members of the enlisted ranks who hold positions of authority. WOs are granted authority through a warrant instead of a commission and must be promoted from an NCO rank. NCOs are Lance Corporals to Staff Sergeants.

The only enlisted rank is Private. These are members who have enlisted and have gone through basic training in order to be counted against the Army’s trained strength.

Sergeants (Gaz and Soap) are among the highest-ranked NCOs and therefore have a lot of practical experience (more, sometimes, than commissioned officers). They have climbed through the ranks from Private all the way to the top of the enlisted ladder. Commissioned officers, on the other hand, have the option to skip the enlisted ladder altogether and jump straight to Second Lieutenant (assuming that they are entering the army with a university degree). However, it is canon that both Ghost and Price were promoted from enlisted ranks. Nevertheless, the NCO/CO divide would be stark; Price and Ghost both have pieces of paper signed by the Royal Crown that give them authority while Gaz and Soap don’t. That being said, Gaz and Soap are incredibly high ranking enlisted while Ghost and Price are (relatively) low ranking officers. While they have less authority, they have similar levels of responsibility and leadership.

Comm discipline is incredibly important in the military. Communication must be clear, concise, and (most importantly) unambiguous. There are many, many commands that can be given over the radio and some of them aren't as self-explanatory as they may seem. Here are some of the basics, lingo, etiquette, and FAQs about military radio communications.

SAS:

The SAS is nicknamed "The Regiment", its motto is "Who Dares Wins", and its color is pompadour blue. Contrary to popular belief, the dagger on the badge is wreathed in flame, not wings.

"The SAS is the mirror in which other special forces reflect." The SAS is the most elite special forces regiment in the world and they all know it. They take their jobs incredibly seriously and are held to a ridiculously high standard, both by their superior officers and by themselves. The 141, as a specialized task force, would take both their training and their commitment to their job to the extreme. The SAS has a fierce reputation of being the blueprints upon which every other special forces regiment was founded, and every single one of them takes an incredible amount of pride in that. It's easy to characterize Soap as a rookie, especially because of his reputation as the Perpetual FNG, but he alone could run circles around every single non-special forces soldier in the world (and a hell of a lot of the special forces soldiers, too).

The SAS consists of one regular and two reserve units. The 22 SAS (regular) is based in Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire and has five squadrons (A, B, D, G, and Reserve) and a training wing. The 21 and 23 SAS are the two reserve regiments.

The UK Special Forces do not recruit from the general public. All current members of the armed forces can apply for Special Forces selection, but most have historically come from the Royal Marines or Parachute Regiment. In 2018, recruitment policy changed to allow women to join the SAS for the first time and in 2021, two women passed pre-selection, making them the first women eligible for the full course.

The SAS Selection Process is held twice a year (once in summer and once in winter) and is a three-phase process that has an 8-10% pass rate. Between 2014 and 2022, there were more deaths in training and exercises than in combat against active threats.

Phase 1 is an endurance test, known as “the hills” stage, where candidates undergo a series of timed hikes between checkpoints with increasingly heavy packs. This phase takes a total of three weeks and culminates in a 40-mile hike carrying 55lbs that must be completed in 24 hours. By the end of this phase, candidates must be able to run 4 miles in 30 minutes and swim 2 miles in 90 minutes.

Officers undergoing SAS selection have a week-long phase which assesses their ability to plan operations while fatigued and stressed (sucks for Price and Ghost; Gaz and Soap would've skipped this step).

Phase 2 is Jungle Training, which takes place in Belize, Brunei, or Malaysia. Candidates are taught navigation, patrol formation and movement, and jungle survival skills; they are put into teams of four, where they simulate living for weeks behind enemy lines, living completely off of rations without a lifeline back to base.

Phase 3 is E&E (Escape and Evasion) and TQ (Tactical Questioning)/RTI (Resistance to Interrogation). This is the final phase. Candidates are given brief instructions on appropriate techniques (likely from former POWs or special forces soldiers) and then are let loose in the countryside, where they must navigate to a series of checkpoints without being captured. After 3-7 days, whether they have been captured or not, they then report for TQ, which tests the candidates’ ability to resist interrogation. During TQ, candidates are only allowed to answer with “the big 4” (name, rank, serial number, and birthday) and all other questions must be answered with “I’m sorry but I cannot answer that question” while being subjected to what is essentially no-touch torture (listening to white noise for hours, standing in stress positions, being verbally berated/humiliated, etc) for 36 hours.

After all of that, candidates are accepted into the SAS ranks, but still go through continuation training, during which many SAS soldiers are RTU’d (returned to unit).

The youngest person to ever (IRL) pass SAS selection was Lofty Wiseman in 1959 at the age of 18. In order for Johnny to have beaten that record, he must have been 18 or younger when he passed selection. Given that the minimum age for enlistment in the UK armed forces is 16, this is entirely plausible.

The names of regular SAS members who have died on duty were inscribed on the regimental clock tower at Stirling Lines, which was rebuilt at the Credenhill barracks. Those whose names are inscribed are said by surviving members to have "failed to beat the clock". The base of the clock is also inscribed with a verse from The Golden Journey to Samarkand by James Elroy Flecker.

Military Life:

During basic training, soldiers live in gender-segregated accommodations in a dorm-style room. Once out of basic training, however, many barracks are individual rooms with en-suite bathrooms (big win for our Sergeants). At most, trained soldiers would live in 4-person rooms separated by gender. The fastest and most reliable way to get off-base housing is to get married, but many commissioned officers get a housing stipend in order to move out of the barracks, meaning that Ghost and Price would likely (if they so chose) have houses near Credenhill, while Gaz and Soap would have individual rooms in the barracks. While deployed, all bets are off.

Many tattoos and piercings are permitted by the British Army. Here are the official guidelines. In terms of hair style/length, the rules are few and far between and incredibly vague to boot. As far as I can tell, Soap’s mohawk, Price’s sideburns, and Ghost's... everything are vastly out of regulations, so I wouldn’t be too concerned about any of the 141 following personal appearance guidelines (Gaz is likely the only 141 member within regs which is a little shocking considering most military regulations are unfairly biased against people of color, but that's neither here nor there). If you’re interested, here is the 2021 version of the guidelines, though many of them have been updated since.

As of 2002, unmarried service members are permitted to invite their partners to stay overnight in single-room barracks (again, big win for our Sergeants). However, these guests must report to the duty and sign in, which is a hassle, so sneaking someone on base is still a plausible course of action.

Unfortunately, I can’t find any information on the use of alcohol/drugs in barracks, but I assume that the regulations are similar to those of the US armed forces, where alcohol is permitted to any off-duty member (any member who is on authorized leave) above the legal drinking age.

Humor: military humor has a pretty infamous reputation for being dark as fuck. Soldiers joke about a lot of stuff because they deal with a lot of stuff, and humans naturally cope through humor. There aren’t a lot of resources for this, because soldiers don’t like that kind of stuff reaching civilian ears (for pretty obvious reasons). Active special forces soldiers like the 141 would have especially fucked up senses of humor because they deal with especially fucked up scenarios. Don’t push yourself for the sake of realism, though; if you aren’t comfortable writing jokes about active hostage/bomb/terrorist situations, don’t write those jokes. However, if you think of a fantastically dark joke and want to include it, know that it would be perfectly in character (especially for Ghost) and true to real life. They absolutely would casually joke with each other about racism, homophobia, xenophobia, war crimes, torture, etc. The important part is that they all know that it’s always a joke; shared humor is one of the most common ways that soldiers bond with each other, and being able to take the piss with each other is key to unit cohesion. If you don’t like that or if that makes you uncomfortable, don’t write it!

Fraternization: In general, fraternization is strictly prohibited. It’s grounds for a reassignment at best and a court martial at worst. One or both parties may be dishonorably discharged. Realistically, any relationship between anyone in the 141 (with the exception of Soap and Gaz, who are of equal rank and therefore their relationship does not affect the chain of command, big win for SoapGaz shippers) would be strictly prohibited and treated as a criminal offense. It is up to you whether your characterization of the 141 members warrants any action upon the discovery of fraternization or if it would be ignored in favor of keeping the team together. An argument could be made either way, so it’s a judgment call.

Call Signs:

The IRL SAS does not use call signs; they are almost universally used for pilots across all military divisions, which means that regular soldiers, even those in Special Forces, don't get call signs. However, as the CoD universe evidently uses call signs, here are some things you should know:

No one really knows how call signs originated. Some say that they started as nicknames given to pilots in the early days of flight. Others say that they originated as a way for ground control to quickly and easily refer to pilots over the radio. In any case, call signs have cemented themselves firmly in aviation culture

Call signs are not supposed to be cool. Ghost in an anomaly. The vast majority of people are not given call signs like Maverick or Iceman. A call sign is supposed to be (playfully) teasing and embarrassing; it's what the military calls "humility culture". They are often a derivative of a last name, based on physical features or personality, or related to a mistake the soldier made early in their career.

A call sign, once given, is rarely changed. Call signs follow soldiers for the entirety of their careers and beyond, and it is not unusual for fellow soldiers to only know each other by their rank, call sign, and last name (some can go their entire careers without knowing each others first names; a call sign basically replaces a soldiers first name).

Call signs are voted on and chosen by the soldier's squadron; they have very little (if any) say in the process. The squadron's commanding officer has the ability to veto a proposed call sign and often will if it crosses any lines (racist, sexist, etc) or if it isn't funny enough.

Here is a forum of US Naval call signs and their stories. I highly recommend giving it a read, especially if you need name ideas or a good laugh

General Writing Reference:

Resource for describing physical things (settings, weather, colors, textures, shapes)

Sickness Descriptors

Keeping Tenses (one of the most common writing mistakes in fic writing; this blog has a lot of very informative writing tip posts!)

WordHippo (One of the best dictionary/thesaurus/rhyming dictionary websites I've found and unfailingly keep open while writing/editing)

Tumblr account dedicated to writing characters of color

Tumblr thread with resources/references for international clothes and other items

Tumblr post with links to building/architectural terms and references

Tumblr post with links to helpful writing websites/resources (reverse dictionary, translator, body language, etc)

Misc Helpful Links (Will be Updated):

https://www.eliteukforces.info/special-air-service/ (detailed information about the SAS, selection, training, operations, weaponry, skills, and roles)

https://www.nam.ac.uk/explore/british-army-ranks (British Army ranks in order with brief descriptions of roles/responsibilities)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_British_Army_installations (List of British Army bases and barracks, both in the UK and overseas)

https://www.quora.com/Does-the-British-Army-really-have-mixed-dorms-as-in-the-TV-show-Our-Girl (Quora forum detailing British military barrack living conditions)

https://taskandpurpose.com/news/military-pilots-call-signs/ (Blog post about aviator call signs and their use in military culture)

https://www.military.com/history/history-of-aviator-call-signs-and-how-pilots-get-their-new-name.html (Blog post about the history of aviator call signs in the military)

https://www.tumblr.com/sighmurderbot/735894836939472896/are-you-like-me-suddenly-obsessed-with-cod-and (Tumblr post - CoD mission generator)

https://www.army.mil/ranks/ (lots of very helpful information about US Army enlisted, warrant, and officer ranks as well as corps and division sizes/operations. Whoever designed this website needs a raise tbh)

If you found this useful, feel free to drop a like! I like knowing that my hard work is being used and appreciated!

#call of duty #cod #cod writing reference #military writing reference #I spent a really really long time on this #and it'll definitely be updated as I do more research for fics #does anyone know if posting this on ao3 would be against TOS?#tombstone's epitaphs

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

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Only Look At Me CE: Nica Schwartz

*Nica is calling Kate “robin” in German. Hence, each time he uses German, I will use quotation marks to denote that going forward in the story.

** Nica is calling Kate (robin) in English for this specific line. In other words, he is using the normal (komadori).

***The translation says "opposite" of him, but context suggests Kate is sitting next to him. That's how I interpreted it anyway.

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate, so please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Dividers: @/adornedwithlight. Thank you for your support! ☾.

On my way home from submitting my report, I was stopped by an unexpected person.

Nica: Hey there, Miss.

One of the Vogel twins stood in front of me.

Kate: Is something wrong?

Nica: Actually, I got lost, would you mind showing me around?

As I nodded in surprise, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed.

Nica: Thanks.

Kate: No problem, so where are you headed?

Nica: The chambers we’re staying in, you know the way right?

Kate: Of course, it’s this way!

I pointed down the hallway and started walking, with him chuckling as he followed from behind.

Nica: Meeting you here, seems like I’ve still got it.

(I’m little wary because of what Harrison said.)

(He’s easy to talk and doesn’t seem like a bad person.)

Even though I know they’re lying somehow, I still don’t know if it’s a bad lie.

(It’s not good to judge someone before you know them.)

We arrived in no time as I walked and thought this.

Nica: Thank you for your help, “Robin.”*

Kate: “Robin”?

Nica: It means “Robin” in German.

Nica: Doesn’t Crown call you, robin?**

Nica: Hence, “robin”.

He sat down and looked at the empty seat opposite to him.***

Nica: Won’t you have a seat?

Kate: Huh?

Nica: Let’s have a chat while you’re here. I’d like to ask you about work and other things.

Despite my being nervous that we were alone, he propped his chin on his hand.

Nica: Besides, I’m interested in you.

Even though he was smiling, his eyes pierced me like someone who’d caught his prey.

As I slowly sat down, he smiled in satisfaction while calling a maid for some tea.

Nica: Well then, should I introduce myself again?

Kate: Oh, please do.

Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, the staff officer of Vogel, an organization under the direct command of the Emperor of Germany.

Kate: What exactly does a staff officer do?

Nica: I gather information, and support Dari in various ways by using my brains.

Nica: Details are a confidential.

Nica: Oh, by the way. You can call me Nica. There’s no need to call me ‘Mister’.

Kate: Okay then, Nica.

His smile deepened as I called his name, and then he pointed at me.

Nica: Right, now it’s your turn.

Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There’s several reasons why I got this job, but I used to work as a postwoman.

Nica: Hmm, then you’re well-informed about the roadways?

Kate: That’s right! We delivered all over London, so I could even guide you.

Nica: That’s great, next time I’ll ask you to show me around the city.

His words interrupted me as I reached for my teacup.

Nica: What kinds of things do you do as a Fairytale Keeper?

Kate: My job entails accompanying Crown activities and recording what happens.

(In reality, there’s a lot more to it than that…..)

I don’t want to say anymore than that because I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk in detail.

Nica: But you’re just an ordinary person aren’t you? Isn’t it dangerous?

Kate: The Crown members have promised to protect me.

Nica: Really….

He seemed to be thinking about something while listening to me speak, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that feeling disappeared when his expression suddenly brightened.

Nica: You’re the verrry cute “robin” of Crown.

Nica: You’re cherished.

Kate: That’s n….

(It’s true that they treat me with respect but……)

It all started only because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil,

(I desperately didn’t want to die, which led me to where I am now.)

If I hadn’t said anything then, I might not be in this world now.

Nica: Dari probably wouldn’t like it, but it might be fun if Vogel had a Fairytale Keeper back home.

Nica: Oh, but Ring wouldn’t do well.

Kate: Wouldn’t do well?

Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s doesn’t socialize with others too well.

(It’s true, the first time we met, he gave off a cold impression….)

While I was thinking of our first encounter, Nica looked into my face.

Nica: What, are you curious about Ring?

Kate: No, that’s not it…..

Nica: My - that’s. Don’t do that.

He put his finger to my lips, and he smiled with extreme charm.

Then we talked about trivial everyday life, and before I knew it, the sky had turned deep red.

(It’s already that time….)

When he looked at the clock, his eyes widened in exaggeration.

Nica: Wow, it’s already this late. I guess it’s time to part ways.

Kate: Well, it’s was nice chatting with you.

Nica: Same here, let’s do it again.

I stood up, thanked him for opening the door, and was about to leave the room.

Kate: What?

He grabs a lock of my hair and places his lips upon its tips.

Nica: Until next time.

Even when my lips parted I was speechless.

Nica: Oh, did you forget your way home?

Or do you want to stay locked up with me and not go home?

His inciting tone made me realize that I had been taken lightly.

(For Nica, this conversation was a wait-and-see thing, and if he got serious -)

-Then he could easily steal my heart.

Kate: Please, excuse me.

With my cheeks suddenly becoming hot, I started to run not caring if there were other people around.

Nica: Bis Dann (Later), “Robin”.

Before my heart is stolen by him.

As I lay on the sofa, my younger brother entered with a gaunt face.

Nica: What is it, did you get lost again?

Ring: Yeah….it’s so large that I couldn’t tell where I was.

Ring sat on a chair and sighed.

Ring: I wish I could memorize the layouts of buildings as quickly as you do Nica……

I laugh at his words.

Nica: It’s possible to get lost on “purpose.”

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

Can't wait to tear this MF up /aff. GIMME!

#nica schwartz #ikevil nica #ikevil translations #ikemen translations #cybird translations #nica schwartz translations

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kykyonthemoon · 5 months ago

Text

Drizzle at Midnight

When you miss his twenty-seventh birthday.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

── .✦ Tags: angst, emotional hurt, hurt/comfort, angst with a better ending, break up & post-break up

── .✦ Word count: 1k3

── .✦ Requested by bon.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

You entered Linkon City territory just as the clock on the panel displayed four round zero digits. The cool air combined with the scent of passing rain signaled the arrival of autumn. Your shadow lingered on the road all by itself. In solitude.

Your steps were rushed from the minute you exited the train station. On the deserted street there was still a shop open. Your favorite bakery. As soon as your shadow became apparent, the owner delivered you a properly wrapped box.

“Here you go, Miss Hunter. Lucky you, our shop's about to close.”

“I'm so sorry that my order came so late at this hour.” You spoke while attempting to catch your breath.

The bakery owner smiled at you. "Not an issue at all. We've only just started cleaning up. Last time you called to cancel the order, I was concerned that something might happen between the two of you. But today when you called again for this cake, I assumed that everything was okay.”

You clasped the box in your palm, unsure what to say for a minute. You simply nodded and smiled faintly. The bakery owner noticed that the Hunter uniform on your body had not yet been changed and realized you were too busy to be certain that you would be able to return on time to pick up the cake. After that, you gladly bid farewell to the owner and continued walking along the desolate road ahead.

Your steps slowed as you moved further away from the bakery. The shop owner knew you and the person whose cake was ordered for that day. Just the previous month, you had spent hours there asking them for advice on cake selection, decorations and other necessary things. All for this special day. But one night, the bakery received a call to cancel this specific order. You thought you would no longer need this cake. But when your mission was over and you were on the train back to Linkon, you suddenly wanted it back.

You had called that very afternoon, hoping the bakery could still make it in time. You could pay more if necessary, but the owner insisted that they still kept my order. Thinking about it, the bakery was a place so familiar to you and that person; the shop owner had also witnessed happy moments of both of you. They preserved your previous purchase because they sincerely thought you would come pick up this cake and personally deliver it to the person you loved.

Finally, you showed up. Unlike what the shopkeeper expected, you ordered this cake just for yourself.

Your footsteps halted in front of a large building. You sat down on the stairs, placed the cake box on your lap, and gazed into the distance. One side of Akso Hospital was visible in front of you. You consciously counted the number of windows that were both still illuminated and entirely dark. You stopped by his window.

The office was still lit. You smiled. Your hands trembled as you removed the ribbon from the box. Once it opened, there was a blue and white cake inside, crowned with exquisite macarons and a glistening snowflake on top. It was just how you imagined when you ordered the cake.

You also imagined his reaction when he unexpectedly spotted you at the hospital, after his shift ended. His eyes would brighten up, even before he realized the cake in your hand was for him. You would sing the happy birthday song, then urge him to close his eyes and make a wish. Most likely he would claim that he did not need to wish, because what he desired most was right in front of him.

You had envisioned that scene so many times. Each time, you would add a small little detail; his smile, the way you stood on tiptoe when you kissed his cheek, the way he held your hand when you both returned home... But it all shattered, into thousands of pieces of ice that cut into your heart. Like all beautiful dreams that come to an end, the pain of waking up to the discovery that you have lost everything was too much for you.

Let us stop... You could not forget those words coming out of your mouth. The fault was neither his nor yours, it was just that you two no longer share the same destination. The road was divided into two directions. Looking back, you realized that he was no longer there waiting for you.

You had been away from him for a fortnight. You erased an abundance of memories about him from your phone, but his birthday reminder still existed. You turned on the screen, his account was still offline. The last time he had sent you a text message was to remind you to wear socks before going to bed. It was already cold. He was no longer by your side to take care of you like a baby. Was it because of your childish behavior that burned him out? You knew too well that he respected every decision you made, including the one that ended this relationship. Yet, honestly, you wished he would hold you tight at that time. Did he let you go because he understood that you both needed space then?

You missed him. So much. You had left Linkon and threw yourself headfirst into the mission just to temporarily forget the void he left in your heart. But the further you stayed away from him, the more you felt that air had left your lungs. You could not think about anything else but him, the surprise birthday party you had prepared in advance for him. Everything happened so fast—the argument, the goodbye... All was whirling around in your head, and the only thing you could cling onto were memories.

The past cannot be altered. You could not turn back and stop yourself from saying those stupid words. You could only wish him the best on his own path.

You turned on the lighter and lit the candles. Twenty-seven candles on the cake shimmered in the area where you sat. Your lips released a tune, your whole body swaying back and forth to the rhythm. When the song ended, the window in the front office went dark. Lights off. You blew out the candles.

“Do you want to do something special on your birthday, Doctor Zayne?”

“Every moment with you is special to me.”

“You must have eaten a lot of mint candies recently! No surprise your words are so sweet! But I still want to do something for you so that you'll never forget that day.”

“Weren't you supposed to go on a mission far away on that day? You won't try to escape back here for me, will you?"

“I am Linkon's top Hunter! I'll finish soon and come back to you, okay?"

“All right. I'll wait for you."

Twenty-seven candles went out. Tears fell from your eyes. Still, you smiled at Akso Hospital.

“Happy birthday to you, Doctor Zayne.”

You burst into tears. Your entire body trembled so badly that the cake on your lap nearly tumbled over. You had no idea how long you sat there. The temperature grew cold, and drizzle began to fall. You raised your face to the heavens.

There were footsteps approaching and halting in front of you. An umbrella appeared to shield the rain over your head, and that dearest face you knew emerged.

You brushed the tears away from your cheeks. Was it a dream? Your lips parted, trembling:

“Doctor Zayne?…”

He was silent. Zayne appeared astonished to see you here and unsure what to say.

“You… What are you doing here?”

Zayne remained silent for a little longer. His gaze locked on you, then down at the cake in your lap. As if he had realized something, he formed a gentle smile.

“I'm waiting for you.”

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 5 months ago

Text

Postcards

Summary: Tom Bennett is sweet on the Post Office girl, but only dares to approach it just as he's conscripted for war | Word Count: 7.2k~ (oops) | Warnings: ww2, mentions of death, smut, fingering

A/N: A very VERY Happy Birthday to @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day! ❤ And thank you so much to @theoneeyedprince for skimming over this 😘

“Get ‘im a cuppa, would ya darlin’!”

Her grandfather’s low baritone seemed to rumble through the floorboards so much so it made her eardrums throb, and she shook her head as she descended the creaky staircase at the back of the store room, running a hand over the collar of her dress to keep it flat.

“Yes, Granda,” she sighed, filling the kettle and placing it on the lit stove. Gone were the days when she was young, afraid of the tiny flame that appeared when her grandfather struck a match to light the gas. He’d always laugh at her concerned expression, chuckling that no grandchild of his was going to be such a ‘scaredy-cat’.

He’d had her lighting matches on the stovetop since she was eleven years old. No exceptions.

A harsh but fair upbringing, given that she was his only grandchild.

She brushed a wavy lock of hair from her face, her pumps clicking on the floorboards as she let the water boil and joined him at the front of the post office. She rolled her eyes when she saw him struggling with the sack of post, grunting and grumbling to himself as elderly men often do.

“Get off, granda, let me.”

“Cheeky beggar! Can do it on me own, ya pesky-”

“Granda.”

He finally turned, perhaps recognising the same tone he’d heard in his wife and daughter in years gone, and knew not to argue. She saw that when her grandfather, turned while bent over and withered with his years, with a smattering of white on his chin and waved sparsely on the crown of his head, had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end almost chewed right through with the effort he’d used in trying to lift what he easily could have several years ago.

He raised an eyebrow, bringing the cigarette from his age-weathered lips and blowing the smoke out, “Go on then. Tea on?”

“Course, it is,” she sighed, bending to pull the sack of post from the floor and into the corner to be sorted later. “I’ll do that later, you go upstairs”.

“Bollocks, will I. I’m staying ‘ere.”

Her grandfather was stubborn, though it was something they accused each other of being regularly. A family trait, some would say.

The postman, clad in his dark uniform trudged through the front door, ringing the bell with it. His satchel was empty and his cheeks were pink like the wind had been at them.

“The usual route please, darlin’”.

She nodded. “Cuppa first?”

“Yes, ta, milk, one sugar-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she smirked, “same as every day.”

As the postman settled into the familiar chair, reserved for him if anyone asked, her grandfather gave a low grumble, shifting his weight with the slow deliberation of age. He looked over at his granddaughter, the same stubborn glint in his eye that she mirrored back at him.

"You're not still jawing, are you?" he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray like he had done a thousand times before.

The kettle whistled, and she moved with ease, pouring the steaming water over the tea bags, the rich aroma filling the small, worn kitchen. She added the milk and sugar to the postman's cup, stirring it with a practised hand.

"Here you go," she said, placing the cup in front of him. "Warm yourself up."

"Bless you, lass," the postman replied, wrapping his hands around the mug as if to soak in its warmth.

The grandfather watched the scene with a softened expression before he straightened, a hint of urgency in his voice cutting through the usual routine. "Put the sign out, will you, love?"

With a tired sigh, she set her teaspoon down and retrieved the sign her grandfather had already sorted that morning, today’s headline written in white chalk across the blackboard surface. She didn't usually pay it much attention, but as she held the frame in her hands, her eyes were drawn to it. One word stood out like a beacon:

‘Britain Declares War on Germany’

“It’s official now,” her grandfather mused, having clocked her shocked, mildly terrified expression, his voice carrying an air of aged wisdom. He had seen another war before this one after all, even then, he had been too old to actually fight in it.

Her breath caught for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "Today?"

"Aye, today," he confirmed, as if it made any difference, a solemn nod accompanying his words. "The world’s about to change."

She stepped outside, the gravel crunching under her feet as she made her way to the front of the shop. With a steady hand, she hung the sign where it would be seen by all who passed by. She stepped back as if to make sure the words were true and not a trick of the eye, and couldn't help but feel the gravity of the situation settling in. The world was indeed about to change, and their quiet corner of it would not be spared.

As she stood there, contemplating the significance of the headline, she heard the familiar sound of a bicycle approaching. Douglas pulled up, half-dismounting with a hurried air.

“Y’alright, Douglas?” she greeted him, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Douglas’s eyes flicked to the sign, and he visibly flinched. A deep furrow appeared on his brow, and his jaw tightened, frustration evident in his tense posture.

“Not seen my boy, Tom, have ya?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Fortunately not. Why, is he in trouble?”

Douglas let out a frustrated sigh. “Is he. If you see him, send him back home.”

She nodded, then glanced back at the sign, understanding the unspoken pain in Douglas’s reaction. “I will, Douglas. Take care.”

Douglas gave a curt nod, his eyes lingering on the sign for a moment longer before he mounted his bike again. He gave her a brief, strained smile, the weight of his past experiences clear in his eyes, and pedalled away. She watched him go, feeling the heavy burden of the news. He and Tom were alike in many ways, stubborn mostly though, and set in their ways once their mind was made up. But Douglas was gentler since the first war had changed him, and Tom was never the same after his mother. Turning back to the house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their small world, like so many others, was on the brink of something monumental. Something far beyond their understanding.

The week passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. She worked diligently, covering the post office as her grandfather went off to the social club, seeking the comfort of familiar faces and shared memories. The steady stream of customers brought a sense of normalcy, yet the weight of the headline hung over her like a shadow, and many others as well.

Each day felt heavier than the last, as the reality of the declaration of war settled in. Conversations with customers often turned to the uncertain future, and the usual gossip was replaced with talk of enlistment and preparations.

As the afternoon sun began to wane one gloomy day, the door to the post office swung open with the chime of the bell. She looked up from the counter, her heart skipping a beat as Tom Bennett walked in. His usual carefree expression was absent, replaced by a seriousness she’d rarely seen before now.

She smiled. “Three guesses who you're skulking away from.”

Tom approached the counter, a faint smirk rose at the corners of his mouth, and his serious depression faltered somewhat. “Box of matches, please.”

She rang him up, the familiar clink of the register grounding her amidst the day's uncertainties. Even from here, behind the counter, she caught the faint scent of cigarettes on his weathered coat, for some reason making her head feel airy. As she handed him the matches, she couldn't help but broach the topic.

“Heard you signed up,” she said, her voice gentle but curious. “What made you do that?”

Tom’s face hardened slightly. She knew immediately why but dare not say. “Don't carry on, had enough of this off Dad.”

“Not Lois?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tom let out a short, humourless laugh. “Nah. She can’t wait to see me gone.”

“How will she cope?” she smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

Tom shrugged, pocketing the matches. “She’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be alright, both of ‘em will.”

Granda trudged past the doorway leading to the back room, leaving a large heaved sigh with a cigarette between his weathered lips. Tom nodded up at him, “y’alright, Granda? Keeping steady?”

She couldn't help but smile as she glanced back. Nobody called him by his real name, only ever what she had always nicknamed him, from a time where she was unable to say ‘grandad’. At first it embarrassed her, but now to hear everyone else call him Granda, well, it was endearing.

Her grandfather simply glared with hooded eyes, blowing smoke between his lips and permeating the air with musk, “bugger off, ya bone idle twat-”

He was still muttering things as he walked off and she gave Tom a face that showed she was trying her hardest to remain stoic.

“Your own fault really. Should know better.”

Tom chuckled, “Yeah, I should.”

From the first day she stepped behind the counter, Tom had made it his mission to tease and charm her, testing the waters with playful remarks and lingering glances. He would lean in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just to watch her cheeks flush a delicate pink. It was a game they played, a dance of words and looks that neither was quite brave enough to escalate.

She found herself looking forward to his visits, the highlight of her day amidst the routine tasks of sorting mail and ringing up customers. Tom seemed to delight in the effect he had on her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in close. “You’re going to spoil me with all this attention,” he’d say, and she’d laugh, trying to hide how much she enjoyed their playful but enigmatic banter.

Now, as Tom stood before her, the weight of his decision to sign up for the war added a new layer to their unspoken bond. The cheeky glint in his eyes was tempered by a newfound seriousness, and she felt the fragile line between them tighten and shift.

As she handed him the change, their fingers brushed, and she felt a familiar warmth rise to her cheeks. “You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “you’re going to make a right mess of things if you keep winding everyone up.”

Tom leaned on the counter, his smirk widening. “Oh, you like it when I wind you up. Admit it.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Big word for a post office clerk-ow!” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief, rubbing his shoulder in faux offence when she smacked him lightly. If she were honest with herself, it was just an excuse to touch him.

“One of these days, your cheek will get you into real trouble,” she warned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Tom leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll be the one to give me a proper telling off.”

She rolled her eyes, busying herself with doing a recount of the till, mostly so that she could have something to do with her hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible to resist?” he quipped, his grin widening.

“Impossible to deal with,” she corrected, though her cheeks flushed with a hint of colour.

Tom watched her for a moment, his smile softening, blue eyes flickering to the pile of post she still had to sort. “Got anything for me? I'll take it back on my way home.”

She hummed a laugh, shaking her head as she sorted through.. She always sorted the Bennett Household’s post separately, so she’d be prepared for another one of Tom’s spontaneous visits. “To face the wrath of Douglas?”

He scoffed, leaning back against the counter with a mock look of horror. “Don't make me laugh. I can handle my old man.”

“Brave words, Mr. Bennett,” she teased, handing him a small stack of letters. “But I’m not sure anyone can handle Douglas when he’s in a mood.”

Tom took the letters, their fingers brushing for a brief moment. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a wink. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. “I believe it. Just don’t go getting yourself into too much trouble, alright?”

Tom’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “No promises. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’ll come back before I ship out. Wouldn’t want to miss another chance to see you blushing for me.”

With that, he straightened and headed for the door, leaving her with a smile and a heart a little lighter despite the day’s heavy news. She watched him go, the weight of their unspoken connection lingering in the air. In her heart she knew she was afraid of truly letting him go, at the prospect of not seeing him walk through those doors every other day. Her heart felt like lead, deep in her chest, wondering if it was already too late, with war reaching their horizons, to admit how she really felt about the man who had just signed up to fight in it.

The days continued to pass in a blur of activity and mounting tension. The declaration of war had cast a long shadow over their small town, and everyone was feeling its effects. Life carried on, but the underlying anxiety was palpable.

A week later, Tom walked into the post office, a different kind of seriousness in his eyes. He held an official-looking envelope in his hand, and she knew immediately what it was.

“Got my papers,” he said, handing her a letter to post. “I’m shipping out in a few days.”

She felt a lump form in her throat but forced a smile. Don’t cry. “So soon?”

He nodded, looking around the familiar space of the post office.

“There’s a…leaving do at the Cross Keys, if you want to come and see me off with the others.”

And why on earth would she have said ‘no’.

A small gathering was held at the local pub to send off the men who had conscripted to do their bit. It was a tradition of sorts, a way for the community to come together and show their support. Friends and family gathered, raising their glasses to wish him well and offer their prayers for his safe return. It was all bright faces, pink cheeked from ale, clinking glasses and all. And all she could do was watch from her seat. Watch him. As if she wanted to print the very image and soul of him into her mind on the off chance he might not return to her, or if he already had a sweetheart to write to, and wouldn't spare a second glance to her.

The pub was filled with laughter and conversation, but she could see the sadness in everyone’s eyes. As the evening wore on, people began to drift away, leaving behind a quieter, more intimate group.

Tom found her sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink. He slid into the seat next to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Mind if I join the prettiest girl in the room?”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. Tom looked around, then back at her. He was antsy, she could feel his nervous energy a mile away. He was probably annoyed as well. Douglas hadn’t come to the pub that night, and there was always something in Tom that craved his approval. “Got anything you want to say to me before I go, or are you just going to miss me in silence?”

She looked down into her lap, tracing her thumb over the rim of her glass, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say without sounding like a fool, Tom.”

“Then be a fool. I won’t mind.”

Her chest was all tight with anxiety when she finally had the courage to form the reply, looking up into his blue eyes, “this place just won’t be the same without you.”

She’d always seen Tom a certain way. Sure. Cock of the walk. Ever since his own mother died he’d almost put on this thick outer layer that was impenetrable. But here, sat with half a beer left in his glass, tapping his fingers against it nervously, his eyes gave way to something more vulnerable. They both know he was off to go and do something important, that he needed to feel valuable in some way, and this was his way of proving it. But his expression showed that he was also a young man, like so many others, who was afraid.

“I won’t miss much about his place.”

Her heart sank a fraction, deep, forming a pit in her stomach. And it seemed Tom sensed it, as he twisted his body to face her, nudging her arm with his elbow to grab her attention again.

“But I will miss you. Especially you.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. The pub was nearly empty now, the noise reduced to a low murmur, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her chair, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt in a gesture of uncertainty about herself. “Tom, I–”

His lips pressed to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a moment they had both imagined countless times, but reality was far sweeter and more poignant.

When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “About time we stopped dancing around it, isn’t it?”

She could laugh. Cry even.

Tom sensed her surprise and something that lingered deeper, but his bravado didn’t allow him to approach it, but it was enough that his thumb brushed a wayward hair from her face. “Had to get that in before I left. Didn’t want to regret missing my chance.”

She let out a relieved, breathy laugh. One that expelled all the tension from her body for a moment. Her eyes never quite left him, as if in wonder. And she was hit with the endless thought that she did not want this moment to end, she didn’t want him to leave. But knew she could never ask that of him.

“Promise me you’ll write,” she said instead.

A classically-Tom Bennett smirk rose to his face. He always did that when he saw the colour rise to her face. “I might.”

They both laughed lightly, with some uncertainty, when she swatted his shoulder. That attitude would get him in trouble, if not with her.

“How about I do you one better,” he started, “I’ll come back, and we’ll have our time.”

She knew then she could ask no more of him. She felt a mixture of hope and fear, knowing how much she was already relying on his return, how much she already craved it. But in response to his weighty promise, she nodded softly, her eyes feeling heavy with tears she did well to keep back.

It almost felt cruel, to have this moment the day before he would leave her for the seas. There had been no time…

Tom’s cheeky grin returned, albeit with a touch of tenderness. “Good. Now, let’s get you home before I change my mind and decide to stay here with you.”

She wished he would.

It was only when she was at her doorstep, watching him walk away, the darkness gradually enveloping him, that she finally took a deep breath, clutching the memory of his kiss and the promise of his return close to her heart.

The days following Tom’s departure were filled with a bittersweet mixture of hope and anxiety. She busied herself at the post office, trying to keep her mind off the worry gnawing at her. The routine tasks that once felt mundane now served as a distraction from the ever-present uncertainty.

On the morning Tom was scheduled to ship out, she was on shift, sorting through the morning post with a heavy heart. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the docks to see him off, knowing it would be too much to bear. Instead, she stayed at the post office, her mind wandering to thoughts of him, imagining his cheeky grin and the promise in his eyes.

After a fortnight, she was giddy with joy when she was sorting the post and saw her name amongst the pile, she nearly gave herself a papercut in her fervent attempts to open the letter, wanting to see his words, in his hand, it would give her happiness beyond belief.

Little Miss Postie, You wouldn't believe the state of things here. It's a lot different from our quiet little town. The lads are a good bunch, though, mostly, and they’ve already learned to put up with my jokes. They’ve got no choice, really. It’s either that or Hitler and I wouldn’t like those odds. I miss seeing your face every day, the way you blush when I tease you. You remember that night at the pub? I bet you do. I wasn’t joking about regretting not kissing you sooner. Let’s just say I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams since then. Don’t worry, I’m keeping my head down and staying out of trouble. Mostly. But it’s hard not to think about you when I’m supposed to be focusing on training. The open sea allows a man to think a bit too much, and every time I see the stars at night, I think of you. And, well, there’s not much else to do out here except think… and maybe imagine a few things I shouldn’t put in a letter. Write me back soon. Tell me everything. And don’t leave out the parts that make you blush. Yours, Tom

She sat at the counter, Tom’s latest letter in hand, a smile tugging at her lips as she read his words again. The warmth of his cheeky tone and the sincerity of his affection made her heart flutter. She knew she had to reply, but she wanted to make it special.

Rising from her seat, she walked over to the display of postcards near the entrance of the post office. The assortment included scenic views, cheerful illustrations, and wartime propaganda. Her fingers brushed over each one until she found a postcard that seemed perfect—a World War II specific postcard featuring a charming drawing of a sailor in uniform, waving from a ship, with the words “Keep Smiling and Carry On” printed in bold letters.

She took the postcard back to the counter and carefully penned her reply, choosing her words with care and affection. When she finished, she read it over, her cheeks warming at the bolder parts. With a satisfied smile, she addressed the postcard and prepared to send it off.

Dear Tom, I’m glad to hear you’re getting along with the lads and keeping them entertained. The town isn’t the same without you, and I miss your cheeky grin and those comments that always get under my skin—in the best way, of course. I hope you continue to write to your father and Lois, they miss you greatly. I’ve been thinking about that night at the pub too. More often than I should admit. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a fool. Granda thinks I’ve gone mad. He’s just a few pennies short of putting me away. Since you were so forward in your letter, I suppose I can be a little brave too. I’ve had a few dreams myself, some of them involving a certain navy man and that uniform you hate. I’m looking forward to seeing you out of it as much as in it. Stay safe, Tom. I can’t wait for your next letter. Yours, ‘Little Miss Postie’

Little Miss Postie, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I couldn’t stop smiling when I read your letter. And blushing? Don’t worry, I’ve been doing plenty of that myself. Don’t tell anyone though or I’ll tell everyone you’re lying. I can’t wait to get back and see if those dreams of yours are as good as mine. Maybe we’ll have to find out together. And as for that uniform, well, I’ll make sure to wear it just for you. But you might have to help me out of it later. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Training is tough, and they’re keeping us on our toes, but thoughts of you keep me going. The lads are starting to wonder why I’ve got this goofy grin on my face all the time. I’ve been telling them about you—well, only the parts that won’t make them too jealous. They all say hello, by the way. Take care of yourself, love. And keep those letters coming. They’re the best part of my day. Yours, Tom

Her reply was affectionate, written with that telltale blush to her cheeks that Tom would have made fun of her for. Every scratch of the pen on paper, telling him that him blushing at her letter would be their little secret, and that he shouldn’t give the lads too high of expectations of her, made her heart feel as light as air. And as she signed off the letter, urging him to come back to her, she would not let that little whisper of uncertainty grow at the back of her mind. And as she turned over the postcard, appreciating the watercolour design on the front, she thought of his face when, and how she imagined it would light up when he received it. Just as hers does.

She waited for a response. But none came.

She found herself anxious, restless. Had she said something wrong? Gone too far? Scared him off with her incessant affections and flirtations? Surely not, she thought. But the lack of any real response had tensions rising in her gut, and the seed of doubt had long been planted.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, she checked the post every morning with a mix of anticipation and dread. Each time the mail arrived, she sifted through the letters, hoping to find one from Tom. But there was nothing. No letter, no word. Her heart sank a little more with each passing day.

Her grandfather and the regular customers noticed the change in her. She became quieter, more introspective, holding onto the hope that Tom would keep his promise and return. The thought of his words, “I’ll be back, and we’ll have our time,” became her lifeline, the thing that kept her going through the long, uncertain months.

Sometimes, she'd allow herself a trip to the house Tom used to inhabit, remembering the times she'd pass by on her way to the post office and spot him leaning against the doorway, smoke blowing from between his curled lips, amused to see the way she was watching him.

She'd hand Lois the post, come in for a cuppa, sometimes Douglas would say a quick hello as he was passing through the kitchen. But whenever she saw him, she was reminded very much of Tom, thousands of miles away from her, and the way his eyes crinkled like Douglas’ did when he smiled.

Every morning, she performed her duties with a determined smile, greeting the postman with a hopeful glance, on the off chance that some letter had accidentally ended up at Douglas’ home, only to be met with a sympathetic shake of the head. She would take a deep breath, steel herself, and continue with her day, refusing to let despair take hold. If she ever let it stick, it would swallow her whole.

It was funny how life had a way of testing people in their worst times.

Granda had always been stubborn. So much so that even when she told him she would put out the sign in a moment, he was too impatient. She only found him later, collapsed alongside the sign for that day's news. But no news seemed as important to her as that very minute, knelt beside her dying grandfather and shouting at passerbys for help.

If her little town was good for anything, it was community. Her grandfather left enough to cover the costs for the funeral, but all who remained put in as much as they could so that they could give the very beating heart of their slice of peace a good sendoff. Her grandfather would have hated it, everyone snivelling and crying over him. But it took the edge off her grief to see that he had touched the hearts of so many, despite his grumpy attitude.

At least, she thought, she wouldn't have to let go of the post office and go work in a factory. This small slice of peace was all she had left of her grandfather. And she counted her blessings that he had left her a good amount in his will, and what remained of his savings.

She only hoped that this brief didn't come in pairs. And she couldn't help but think of Tom now she was truly alone, running the post office by herself, her loneliness only exacerbated by the fact she only had herself to make a brew for in the morning now. She has the most vivid nightmares about the day someone would come and break the news that he wouldn't come back.

Then, one crisp morning, as she stood behind the counter, sorting the latest batch of letters, the door to the post office swung open with a familiar chime. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as Tom Bennett stepped inside, dressed in his navy uniform, looking weary but very much alive.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of all the months of worry and hope melted away as he crossed the room, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face.

“I told you I’d come back,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same mix of cheekiness and sincerity that she had missed so dearly.

For a moment, she stood frozen, unable to believe her eyes. Then, in a rush of emotion, she ran around the counter and threw herself into his arms. As she hugged him tightly, the dam of her emotions broke and she began to sob uncontrollably. He smelled of cigarettes and the sea, a mix of salt and smoke that was uniquely him. The scent brought a rush of memories and emotions, grounding her in the reality of his presence. His uniform carried the faint tang of saltwater, a reminder of the long months he had spent away from her, battling the elements and the enemy.

Tom hugged her back, a bit confused by the intensity of her reaction. “Hey now, what’s all this? I’m back, aren’t I? In one piece and everything.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching him even tighter. “You look terrible in that uniform,” she said, her voice shaky but filled with affection.

Tom chuckled, a familiar warm feeling pooling in her gut, rubbing her back soothingly. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t join the navy for the fashion. Besides, I was hoping you’d be so happy to see me that you wouldn’t notice.”

She wiped her cheek, feeling like air was finally making its way into her lungs. “Y-You didn’t write me back. I thought I'd lost you too.”

“I’m sorry, love. I never meant to leave you in the dark. It was just complicated out there, I–”, Tom furrowed his brows, his head cocking down at her slightly. “Too? I—”

He only had to look around. It was never usually this quiet. And she saw the realisation dawn across his war-hardened face when he spotted the framed picture of Granda on the counter.

“Oh, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “When?”

“A few months ago,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Stroke. The tobacco must have caught up with him.”

Tom’s expression softened, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, resting his cheek on her head, “you're more a soldier, doing all this on your own.”

She held onto him, his presence like a balm for her aching heart, growing stronger every day around the pit that was grief. “I didn't feel very strong.”

Tom didn't reply. He hadn't felt very strong himself either. And she knew from the way his large hand rubbed her back to comfort her, that there was more to his easy-going facade than he wanted to let on. And he knew for her equally, that the months were tough on her own, and that she was still healing.

“Missed you so much,” she confessed, pulling away slightly to look up at his half-worried expression, “it felt like I was losing both of you at the same time.”

Tom sighed, a light, almost pretty sound from his lips, his gaze drifting down slightly to her lips, as if he were just remembering all the details he didn't want to admit he'd forgotten all those months at sea.

“Don't cry.” His thumb lingered, swiping away a tear from her under eye, before he lightened the atmosphere with his smile, “I'd prefer to see you blush again. Suits you better.”

She couldn't help a smile breaking across her face, and the warmth that crept up her neck made her feel like a schoolgirl.

Tom winked. “There it is.”

Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, as if testing the waters. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his uniform as she kissed him back, the warmth of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine.

She pulled back slightly, a playful protest on her lips. “Tom, we’re still open…”

He gave her a devilish smile, turning around to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and locking it with a swift motion. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

He wasted no time, pulling her back into his arms, his lips growing more insistent and passionate. His hands roamed her back, finding the familiar curves and contours he had missed so much, but had no time to explore before he’d left. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

She felt her own longing mirror his, her body responding eagerly to his touch. “Show me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Tom’s grin turned wicked as he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands exploring with newfound urgency. “I've been dreaming about this,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “Every fucking night.”

She laughed softly, feeling a delightful mix of anticipation and excitement. “Tom Bennett, you are impossible.”

He gave no reply, his fingers already working on the buttons of her blouse. His movements were deft, practised, as if he had imagined this moment a thousand times over. She gasped as his hands brushed her skin, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

His lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as he pulled her blouse free, letting it fall to the floor. “Yeah, but I knew you’d come around,” he said with a cheeky grin, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer.

Their kisses grew hungrier, their bodies pressing together with an urgency that had been building for months. She reached for the buttons on his uniform, her fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as she worked to free him from the fabric. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled her into his arms again, his hands caressing her bare skin and breasts through her brassiere, sending waves of heat through her.

She sighed, her head falling back as his lips trailed down her neck, his kisses leaving a path of fire in their wake. “Tom,” she breathed, her hands clutching at him, needing more.

“I know, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “I know.”

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the small sofa in the back of the post office where she sometimes took breaks. Gently, he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. Their movements became a dance of passion and longing, each touch, each kiss, a testament to the months they had been apart. Tom’s hands explored her with a reverence that made her feel cherished, loved.

As if by muscle memory from those dreams he would write about, his knee slid between her thighs as his hands roughly bunched up her skirt to her hips, two fingers tucking between them to tease her bud through her knickers.

“Tom,” she gasped, her body arching against his.

“Shh,” he soothed, his lips capturing hers once more. “I’ve got you.”

She was enraptured by the way he nipped at her lips, that she only realised he had pulled the gusset of her underwear aside when he gently, but insistently, pushed two fingers inside her, crooking upwards and finding that rough, sweet spot with unyielding precision.

He swallowed every sound she made, every now and then a grunt of approval slipping past his own lips as he stretched her open on his fingers, his pace teasing. Her fingernails left crescent moon shaped welts in his now bare shoulders, the muscles tensing beneath them.

Tom hummed against her lips, pleased with himself. “Not so shy now, are you?”

His teeth slid across her neck, no doubt marks left behind, but she couldn't even focus on that with the way he was insistent on teasing that wild spot inside her that made her body feel like white, fluttery flames.

“I've missed your reactions…especially this one.”

His thumb joined in his ministrations, applying gentle but firm pressure to her bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers plunging in and out of her wet heat. And if her face hadn't been buried in his shoulder, she would have cried out, embarrassed at the sounds she and her body was making. Tom however, seemed to revel in it, his hand soaked with her arousal as she teetered on the edge.

The tightness in her gut spiralled as she clutched him tighter, her body aching pleasantly with the force of her peak rushing through her, all while Tom grinned and didn't falter, as if to watch her linger on that border of pain and pleasure.

Before she had even fully come down, his fingers were gone and she felt she was able to fully breathe again. Her flushed expression snapped open to him as he pulled her thighs towards him, on the sofa, and watched as he righted himself and slid his belt through the loops of his trousers, a sound that made her belly flutter.

He raised his eyebrows, pulling his trousers low enough to free himself and leaned over her again. “Missed me that much?”

She laughed, and hid her face, the dull ache still thrumming through her body ignited again as the head of is cock parted her folds and nudged her bud. “Tom-”

Warmth crept to her face again when his hand turned her face towards him again, his pupils near eclipsing the blue with want as he sheathed himself within her, holding her there to watch her expression as her walls stretched to accommodate him.

In any other scenario, she would want to slap that self-impressed look off his face, but not now, not when it felt this good.

His eyebrows barely furrowed, struggling to keep his composure. “Christ, you're so fucking tight—”

His words shot straight to her core, clenching around him and eyes slipping shut as he began a tortuous pace, like he hadn't gotten to this part in his dreams before. His arms wrapped around her like choking ivy, pushing her body to his with every needy thrust, his breath hot against her neck and the metal of his identification tag cold against her chest.

For a few brief moments, the world outside the post office ceased to exist. There were only the two of them, reconnecting in a way that was both familiar and new. Tom's cheeky comments and playful touches had yielded to blend seamlessly with his genuine affection, creating a moment that was perfect in all its imperfections.

She can feel his hips growing tired the closer he gets, and if she is being truthful, the cooling sensation of the buckle of his belt and the friction it gives her is only flinging her to the edge right alongside him. And when he breathes her name all shaky and low like that, she can't help herself, and she lets go again with a choked cry, the second sneaking up on her so quickly it feels like she never really recovered from the first.

With a stuttered groan, mirrored by his own hips, he crushes her in his arms and pushes forward as hard as he can, burying himself as deep as he's able as he comes hard nestled in her silky walls. She held him on top of her, his weight a comforting reminder that he was real, that he was here. Her fingers gently traced the contours of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath.

Her heart was still racing, but not just from their shared passion. It was the sheer relief, the overwhelming sense of having him back in her arms after so long. Every night of worry, every day of longing, all melted away in this moment.

She buried her face in his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of him, mixed with the faint hint of the sea. Tears of relief welled up in her eyes, but this time they were tears of joy, of profound gratitude. And she wanted to say so much, but whenever she tried, her throat closed up, not wanting to interrupt this quiet, loving slice of peace in her arms. For the first time in months, she felt whole again.

When he finally pulls back, breathless and flushed, Tom rests his forehead against hers, his eyes filled with love and mischief, her his voice low and intimate. He means to say so much more. The depth of his feelings, the fears, and the nights he had spent longing for her, it all threatened to spill out, leaving him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. She saw it, though, in the way his eyes darkened with emotion, the unspoken words lingering just beneath the surface.

“I think we might need to close early more often.”

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