#I could go on forever. I just need to watch season three so i stop fronting

[mobgeo]

I feel so clueless on how jokes work. I know what makes people laugh, and I can repeat what makes them laugh so I can be funny, but I still don't understand the joke itself. I know how to make people laugh but I don't understand WHY it elicits laughter

[sweetbans29]

Down Low - KM

Pairing: Kate Martin x Reader

Summary: After figuring out what you have is real, you and Kate navigate keeping your relationship on the down low (based on THIS request)

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here is another cute KM fic!

"So how are we going to do this?" You ask the girl sitting on your bed. She is wrapped in one of your sweatshirts and holding Stuffy, the teddy bear you refuse to sleep without.

She shrugs. Neither of you really know what to say.

"We take it one day at a time and if it gets weird or hurts the team we stop," Kate says, looking down at the arms of the teddy bear she is playing with.

You nod. Neither of you really want to stop what you are doing.

You and Kate are heading into your fourth year at Iowa while Kate is entering her fifth. The two of you have been doing this little dance around your feelings for the past three years. That is until the two of you both decided to stay around during the summer. Summer was really only about 6 weeks but it was enough for you and her to start exploring the unspoken feelings each of you has been harboring. And boy were the two of you glad you did.

The two of you spent the past six weeks exploring the city and each other. It could not have been better. But now that summer is over and the team is getting back to start pre-season workouts the two of you are faced with reality.

"Mmmhmmm, one day at a time," you repeat what she says but can't hide the disappointment in your tone.

Kate stands up and comes to wrap herself around you. You turn to face her and nuzzle your way into her neck, breathing her in.

"When I say one day at a time, I don't mean my feelings for you. Baby, those are sure but one day at a time with the team, okay?" She explains, trying to reassure you.

You nod into her and know that is what she meant, but you can't help but want this little world the two of you have created to continue forever. Forever in your little bubble was unrealistic.

You let your hands that are wrapped around the taller girl sneak underneath the sweatshirt and allow your fingertips to dance across the skin of her back.

"Why can't we stay like this forever?" You ask, knowing reality is knocking at the door.

"I wish we could, I really wish we could," she says.

The team gets back and you and Kate go back to being 'just friends'. At least, friends in the eyes of the world. But the two of you are still very much figuring out what the two of you look like with everyone else around. As time passed and the two of you established this wasn't just a summer fling, you got so used to keeping your relationship between the two of you that neither of you felt the need to change anything up.

A few months pass and you couldn't be happier. The season is in full swing as games are beginning.

It is a full-team practice day before a big game coming up.

You are intently watching your team run a defensive rotation when Kate comes flying through, getting the block on one of the practice guys.

The team goes crazy as the team on the floor goes to chest bump and gives Kate her flowers.

"FREAKING MOTHER," Jada yells as the team celebrates Kate. The cheers are loud.

"Ha, more like daddy," you mutter out loud before you can catch yourself. You look around to see if anyone caught you little slip and it doesn't look like they had.

To be fair, you and Kate have been pretty active in the bedroom which may or may not be consuming your mind more often than not. It had been a newfound nickname for your girl that was up until this moment only used in the confines of your home.

When you think you are in the clear, you pat Kate's back and head to set up in your zone when you hear it.

"Oh shit," Caitlin says. "OH SHIT!"

Caitlin turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Caitlin asks, squeezing your shoulders.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you say trying to cover up your slip.

Caitlin stares you down.

"I know you better than you know yourself, you would not go around calling just anyone that nickname," Caitlin says trying to pull your eye contact which you are actively avoiding.

"Fine, don't say anything but something is going on," Cait says letting you go. You finally let out the breath you have been holding and look over at your girl.

Your eyes meet Kate's and she immediately knows something's off. You wave her off but to your misfortune, Caitlin is out there calling Kate daddy on the next play.

Both Kate and your face are bright red when you hear the name escape Caitlin's lips and it causes the whole team to come to a halt.

"What did you just call Kate?" Jada asks.

"Daddy," Caitlin says. The whole team looks at her like she is crazy. "I am just repeating what I heard."

Caitlin then had the audacity to point at you, the bright red tomato that you are, as ever single eye in the gym gravitates towards you.

You hide your face and groan when you feel arms come around you. Kate covers you from the eyes of the team and practice squad.

"So if Kate is daddy...does that make you mother?" Jada asks pinching at your sides.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, how long have we known each other? How long have I been saying you two would be a cute ass couple? Do I even know you at all?" Caitlin says barreling into you.

"8 months," Kate says pushing your intruder away from you.

"EIGHT MONTHS," Caitlin yells. "And you really think you know someone. I will be taking applications for a new best friend since BOTH of mine have betrayed me."

"CC, it has nothing to do with you," you say a smile finally making its way on you as you push the girl. "We liked the simplicity and your loud mouth couldn't keep a secret to save your life."

"Hey!" Caitlin combats but all of you know it's true.

You are all laughing and there is a shared sense of relief in both you and Kate. You didn't know how the team would react but it is better than either of you would have expected. Not as a lack of their understanding but more so to your fear.

"As long as I get to be in the wedding, I'm good," Caitlin says.

"Yeah - as my best woman," Kate says at the same exact time as you say, "Of course - as my maid of honor."

Your head whips to look at Kate who is already staring you down.

"She can't be your maid of honor if she is my best woman," Kate says like it's a known thing, Caitlin being on her side instead of yours.

"In your dreams Martin, she has been my best friend since high school - there is no question she is standing by my side," you say.

"She could always officiate..." Jada decides to pitch in her two cents.

Kate and your heads turn to her and simultaneously say, "No."

The whole team laughs as you and Kate continue to bicker. The coaches call for practice to continue.

Any time you were standing next to Kate, the two of you could be seen in the same little argument about who gets Caitlin. It even follows you back to your apartment when Caitlin is sick of hearing it.

"Okay that's enough," Caitlin says, rubbing her head. "I will be neither of your best woman or maid of honor."

You and Kate come to your senses and turn to the girl who just made the statement, now arguing with her as to how crazy it would be to not have her in the wedding party.

It didn't stop the arguing, but it did turn the tables so you and Kate were on the same side.

If you were honest, you would give Kate anything she wanted on your big day and she would do the same. At the end of the day, you both knew what was coming and had no problems with it. It was all a part of the plan. The plan the two of you drew up that first week of summer. The plan to spend the rest of your lives arguing about stupid things with each other because neither of you could imagine arguing with anyone else.

The plan of Kate and you against the world.

AN: A short but cute one in my opinion. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 💛

[httpsdana]

Hiiii!!! can you write a jamal story with promt 107 where they're having an argument (he's at fault 🤭) with like HEAVY angst where jamal is lowkey being a meanie and not trying to understand readers side but ends in the cutest fluff tho (cuz can't accept sad endings 😭)

Btw FREAKING INLOVEE WITH UR WRITING UR LITERALLY SAVING THE JAMAL GIRLIES I SWEAR!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻💗💗

Also thank you in advance!!!!! 😽🩷🤍

Lost In Translation~Jamal Musiala

THANK YOU SM FOR UR SWEET MESSAGE. i hope u enjoy this one 😙🫶🏻

request from here

master list

players/drivers I write for

107-"please stop. you're scaring me."

She felt it from the start of the season. Jamal had said he was going to give his best this season and push himself to his limits. He promised to avoid any distractions and focus solely on football, fully committing himself. What she didn’t expect was for him to avoid her too. It made her feel like she was the distraction, rather than the support he needed.

y/n woke up every morning without Jamal by her side. Every day, she rushed to the kitchen, hoping to see him and wish him a good day.

All she wanted was to hear those three words she felt like she hadn’t heard in forever. But every morning, she was disappointed to find that he had already left without even a "good morning."

When she returned from work, Jamal still wouldn’t be home. She knew his training sessions were intense, but she also knew he couldn’t possibly be training from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

She made him dinner every night, hoping they could share a moment together when he came home exhausted from practice. Instead, he’d arrive late at night, claiming he had been at the gym after training.

He no longer wrapped his arms around her at night. He hadn’t touched or kissed her in over two months. It felt like she was invisible to him, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to tell him how she felt, or she would have no choice but to let him go.

y/n sat in their living room, waiting for Jamal to come home. It was 10 p.m. After what felt like 100 episodes of her show, she finally heard his keys and the door opening. She remained seated on the couch, waiting for him. He walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there, watching TV.

“Hey,” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the couch and sitting down, keeping his distance from her.

She wanted to ask him about his day. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about the start of the season, especially given his incredible performance. But she didn’t. She just wanted to know what was going on and why he was avoiding her.

“We need to talk,” she said, looking at him intently, her voice blank and direct.

Jamal sighed, running his hands over his face, exhaustion clear in his features. “y/n, I’m tired. I just want to shower and go to sleep,” he said, already standing up to leave the room.

That’s what he always did, avoiding any conversation with her.

“No, Jamal. You’re not running away this time. We need to have a serious conversation, and you need to listen to me for once,” she said, standing up too, her voice tense with all the frustration she had been holding inside for so long.

He turned around, surprised by her outburst but clearly annoyed that he was going to have to talk. “What is it now?” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice weak and hurt.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who said we need to talk, and now you’re asking me what’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What’s wrong with us? What happened? Did I do something to upset you? Why are you avoiding me and acting like I don’t even exist in this house?” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“Oh my god. You’re always so needy, constantly craving attention. I can’t have you clinging onto me all day, y/n. I come home every night exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. But you’re there, nagging me because you can’t survive without attention. What am I supposed to do?” he shouted bitterly, stepping closer to her.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy! Just acknowledge me. Say good morning, make me coffee before you leave, tell me you love me at least!” she yelled back, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat.

Jamal was fuming, his face red with anger. She had never seen him like this before, and it scared her. He paced around the room, his steps heavy, before kicking a vase, shattering it to pieces. y/n flinched at the sound, stepping back slightly as Jamal moved closer.

“Please stop. You’re scaring me” she whispered as he stood in front of her, his face inches from hers. It was the closest he had been to her in weeks. She could feel the heat radiating from him, but his cold expression sent chills down her spine.

Jamal didn’t seem to hear her or care. Instead, he continued hurling hurtful words.

“I come home to rest. I don’t need anyone ruining my mood before I leave for training. I don’t need anyone distracting me from having my best season. So stop with the attention-seeking and deal with it. It’s not like I’m treating you as if you’re dead,” he spat, his words cutting deep into Y/N’s heart like knives.

She fought back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let him see her break.

“But you are, Jamal! You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t remember anything. You’ve forgotten our date nights, and we haven’t had a Sunday date in weeks. Sunday is your rest day, but instead of spending it with me, you choose to hang out with your friends, friends you see every day at training. Why can’t you acknowledge your girlfriend, who’s doing her best to stay calm and deal with the consequences of dating a footballer?” she cried, finally letting out all the words she had been holding inside for months.

“For fuck’s sake. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m going to shower and then go to sleep. I better not hear about this childish problem you’ve made up in your head again,” he said coldly, leaving the room and heading to their bedroom.

y/n collapsed on the couch, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into them, her heart aching.

She didn’t understand how Jamal had changed so much, why he had become like this. They had been dating for years, and every year he wanted to have a great season, but this was the first time he had acted this way. She felt their relationship slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

After crying for a while, exhaustion overtook her, and she wanted to sleep. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jamal after the hurtful things he had said. She began walking to the guest room when she heard his voice behind her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, making her turn to look at him. He stood there shirtless, fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dressed in the shorts he always wore to bed.

“To sleep in the guest room,” she replied, turning away.

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffed, and she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

She sighed and entered the cold, empty guest room, with only a bed in the middle. Lying down, she felt as though she were on a rock.

She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest, but after tossing and turning for hours, she gave up. She sat up, running a hand over her face, wondering if Jamal was struggling to sleep too.

A part of her hoped he was awake, thinking about her, just as she was about him. But she knew he was probably fast asleep, after using "needing sleep" as an excuse to avoid their argument.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up and saw Jamal peeking his head in to see if she was asleep. When he saw her sitting up, he entered the room slowly, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Can I... sleep next to you?” he asked nervously, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“I won’t touch you or anything. I’ll stay as far as I can,” he pleaded, his eyes begging for some rest.

y/n thought about it. She couldn’t sleep without him next to her either. “Please,” he said softly, and she finally gave in, nodding her head and moving to the far side of the bed, turning her back to him.

She felt the bed dip as Jamal lay down next to her. Even with the distance, she could feel the warmth of his body close to hers. y/n closed her eyes, hoping to finally get some sleep. As she drifted off, she felt his arm drape over her body, a small smile forming on her lips as she welcomed his warmth. She knew they would need to talk about their fight in the morning, but for now, they could rest.

Next morning, y/n had woken up by the sun that was shining in the guest room. She turned around, hoping Jamal was still next to her, but as usual, he had already left the room.

She let out a sigh, knowing he probably left to training too. She hoped he would stay and explain his hurtful words, but it seemed as if nothing happen to him last night. y/n entered the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth, before going to the kitchen.

She was surprised when she saw Jamal there, his shirtless back to her as he was making breakfast. When he noticed her, he smiled at her, making her more confused. "good morning darling. I made you coffee" he pointed to the cup of coffee that was next to the coffee machine.

Jamal moves quietly around the kitchen, the sound of eggs sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster filling the silence. y/n sat on the counter, the cup of coffee next to her, arms folded, watching him, her heart heavy with the weight of the argument that’s still fresh in her mind.

He seems to be gathering his thoughts, carefully plating the breakfast before he turns to her, his expression soft but full of regret.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I shouldn’t be trying to explain why I acted the way I did, because none of it excuses what I said or how I treated you. It was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to do any of that.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“But with the new coach and the new season, there’s been so much pressure. The coach has been really strict about us not getting distracted, and I... I let that get into my head.” he said, his voice weak and unstable.

y/n doesn’t respond right away, waiting for him to continue, her gaze steady as she takes in his words.

"I thought that maybe you were a distraction," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"But that was so wrong of me. All you’ve ever done is support me. You’ve been there through everything, my ups and downs, every game, every challenge, and instead of seeing that, I pushed you away. I don’t even know why I said the things I did... I just... I took my stress out on you, and I’m so sorry for that. I know it hurt you, and I regret it more than I can say.” he stuttered, seeming nervous

Her chest tightens, emotions swirling inside her as she thinks back to how hurt she felt. But she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.

“I shouldn’t have acted like football was more important than you," he continues, stepping closer.

"Because it’s not. You’re so important to me. Honestly, most of my success, it’s because of you. You keep me grounded, and your support means everything. It’s not just my talent that’s gotten me where I am, it’s you. And I was stupid for not seeing that." he said confidently, stepping closer to her

He looks at her, his eyes full of sincerity, waiting for some kind of response. She hesitates, his words slowly sinking in.

"You really hurt me, Jamal," she says softly. "It wasn’t just about football. It was about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was in the way." she said, her voice filled with pain.

He nods, a look of guilt flashing across his face.

"I know, and I’m going to spend every day trying to make up for it. I want to fix this. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again." he said honestly

There’s a pause before he speaks again, his voice even softer.

"I took the day off today. I thought maybe we could go for a walk, spend some time together, and get some ice cream, if you want? I just... I want to make it up to you." he hesitated, waiting for her to speak

She tries to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"You got me with the ice cream. I can’t say no to free ice cream." she jokes

He chuckles, though there’s still a seriousness in his gaze.

"I really am sorry. I swear to you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Football’s important, but so are you. More than that, you’re more important." he said, grabbing her hands in his

"i believe you Jamal. I hope you don't break your promise this time" she said, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back, squeezing her hands in his.

"you won't regret it i promise" he said

After breakfast, they walk side by side, hand in hand, talking and catching up on everything that’s happened since the argument.

Slowly, the tension between them begins to ease. As they sit on a park bench, ice creams in hand, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the warmth of the moment filling the space between them.

"I missed this," she says softly, closing her eyes as she let the comfort of his presence wash over her.

"I missed it too," he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on her head before resting his against hers.

Everything was fine now.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now. 

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines. 

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours. 

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees @padawancat97 @dangraccoon @jedi-hawkins @dreamie411 @sverdgeir

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[aphroditeinthesea]

“ you’ll be the prince ”

connor stoll x fem!reader 🐍

i have no idea where this concept came from, i thought it was a request but i checked and it’s not so? im really confused

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The shopping trip that had honestly begun for unknown reasons was going on its third hour. But if you were to ask Connor Stoll, he would probably tell you he’s been here for maybe two- three years?

“Baby,” he began as Y/N handed him another bag, “why did you wanna come here again?”

“There was a sale at Forever 21,” she answered, her hand finding its way to hold onto his bicep to make sure they didn’t get separated.

“Did we go to Forever 21?”

“I,” she looked at the bags in both her hands and her boyfriend’s, “no.” Connor sighed before she began to defend herself, “one more store, promise.” She put down a couple bags on a nearby bench before wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, “then, when we get back I can try on everything for you, like a fashion show.”

He looked down with a flustered smile, “yeah, okay.”

She grinned, pecking him on the lips, “thank you, baby.” She quickly grabbed his arm and walked through the crowded mall. She pushed past people who shopped, some who swore at her for her actions. Her boyfriend followed behind, making sure not to lose her.

“Wait, okay,” she stopped, “baby?”

He let out a sigh, “uh huh?”

“I need a Halloween costume, and,” she watched her boyfriend tired face shift, “just Spirit Halloween, then Forever 21, then I’m all yours.”

He couldn’t help but smile as she finished her sentence, “all mine?”

“All yours.”

He stretched out his arms, motioning toward the store, “ladies first.”

She giggled before dragging him into the seasonal store. They were immediately met with a werewolf animatronic howling in their faces.

Connor let out a scream at the sudden sound but quickly coughed to try and cover it up, “that’s not even scary.”

“Of course it’s not,” she smirked. She turned her attention to rack of Halloween costumes. She gasped, “baby!”

He slightly jumped at the exclamation but was being pulled to the costumes before he could even react, “which one are you being?”

She smiled, “I think you mean, which ones are we being?”

“Do I?”

“Here,” she handed him a costume of a prince, “Prince Phillip,” she spoke before grabbing a sleeping beauty costume, “Aurora.”

“I’m being the prince?”

“No, you’re being a princess,” she pointed to the dress, “it would really bring out your eyes.”

A smile found its way onto his face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “sounds good, baby.” He began looking around before she grabbed his chin to make him look at her.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes, “you’re looking for security cameras.”

He dramatically gasped, “I am not.”

“I know you, Connie,” she laughed. She grabbed the costume from him, “I’ll go pay for these.”

“No, wait,”

“You’re not robbing Spirit Halloween.”

“No,” he chuckled, “I’ll pay for them, seriously.”

“Do you have like a fake credit card or something?”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I watched you steal a diamond necklace from Tiffany’s.”

“They should’ve had better security!”

“Sweetheart,” she sighed, “go.”

He smirked before grabbing her hand, checking around before running out of the store. A few other customers turned their heads at the two, although not paying much mind to the two demigods.

He shoved people aside, receiving many swears and glares in return. They made it out to his car and jumped in.

They both laughed as they tried to catch their breaths.

When Y/N finally could see clearly again, she looked over at her boyfriend, “so?”

He smiled, leaning his head back against the seat, “so?”

“What else did you steal today?”

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour

idk if this makes any sense tbh.

i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow

anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D

Title: Happily Ever Accident

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity

Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.

It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.

But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.

They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.

“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.

“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.

“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.

“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.

“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”

“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.

“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.

“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.

“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.

“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”

She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.

Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.

She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.

Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.

Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.

Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.

Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.

To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.

But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.

He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.

And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.

Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.

“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”

“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.

“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.

“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”

“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.

She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.

Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.

His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.

And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.

Fate works in strange ways.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.

“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”

“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.

This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.

“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.

“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?

“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.

“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.

“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”

Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.

“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”

His heart broke just a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”

Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.

“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“

“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.

“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”

“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.

“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”

She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.

“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.

Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.

“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”

He let out a genuine laugh.

“Gerard.” He said.

“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”

“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.

“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“

“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.

“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.

“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.

“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”

“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.

“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.

“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”

“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”

Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.

Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.

Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.

She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.

So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.

If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.

That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.

She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.

In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.

And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.

“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.

“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“

“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.

“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.

“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.

“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.

“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.

“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.

“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”

Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.

She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.

“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.

“Your view is gonna suck.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.

“Okay?” He asked for clarification.

“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”

“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.

Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.

She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-

“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.

She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.

Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.

She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.

Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.

After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.

Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.

She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.

But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.

He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.

She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.

There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.

“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.

“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.

“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.

She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?

“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.

“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.

“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”

He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.

“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”

“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.

Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.

“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”

“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.

“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.

“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.

“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.

“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.

“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”

“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.

“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.

“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.

“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.

It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.

Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.

But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.

But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.

“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.

The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.

“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”

“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.

“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”

“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.

He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.

I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.

She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.

Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.

“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.

“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.

And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.

There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.

“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.

“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”

“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.

He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.

“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”

It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.

His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.

They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.

“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.

She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.

He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.

“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.

Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.

“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.

“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.

“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.

“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.

“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.

“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.

“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.

“Right.” He awkwardly responded.

He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.

By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.

And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.

“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”

Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.

“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.

The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.

She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”

He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.

“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”

She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”

“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine helping Benn get away to see a 'friend'

Benn: *trying to slip off the ship during dinner for the third night in a row*

Shanks: *notices he's gone almost immediately* Where's Beck?

Lucky Roux: *counting the money Benn bribed him with to keep quiet* I dunno

Shanks: *Runs out on deck to find Benn trying to sneak over the side of the bot* Where we going?

Benn: we aren't going anywhere, I'm going to port by myself.

Shanks: You're leaving the crew! *Starts to tear up*

The crew: *piles out when they hear Shanks' caterwauling* You're leaving! Without even saying goodbye!

Benn: I'm just leaving for the night, not forever...*realizes no one is listening to him* oh my gods, FINE! Fine, I'm not going anywhere.

Crew: *cheers as they herd Benn back into the mess hall*

An hour later

Benn: *finally manages to claw his way out of the impromptu game night to take a breather out on deck*

You: *watches him lean on the railing, trying to light night cigarette* Need a light?

Benn: *jumps in surprise and drops his lighter into the bay* You scared the shit outta me!

You: *hands him your lighter and leans against the railing*, so why were you trying to sneak off?

Benn: what's it to you?

You: maybe I could help if you have a good reason.

Benn: I wanted to go see a friend I always hook up with when we make port here. She knows I'm a pirate, but not what crew I'm apart of.

You: and you don't want us to meet her? Are you shamed of us?

Benn: *no hesitation* very...Nah, nah, it's just she's a sweet gal and rather timid.

You: and you think she'll be scared off when she finds out you're the emotional support idiot to one of the four emperors?

Benn: yes...Wait, I'm no one's emotional support idiot.

You: In order to stop Shanks from pouting you had to let him curl up in your lap.

Benn: so?

You: You looked like you were burping him, like a baby, when he's a whole ass grown man.

Benn: *purses his lips because he knows you're right, so he elects not to respond*

You: Anyway, you want help sneaking out?

Benn: No offense rookie, but I don't think you can help me. They're a group of seasoned pirates, and you.... You've only been in this life for what? Three years?

You: You're forgetting that they're also just a bunch of dudes who are children at heart.

Benn: what are you getting at?

You: What I'm saying is sneaking out will cost you.

Benn: how much?

You: Take me shopping tomorrow and we'll find out.

The next night

Benn: There's no way this is gonna work.

You: Boys! Benn bought you some stuff! *Presents them with a 10,000 + piece Lego set of the Red Force (I'm making Legos cannon for a plot device), a dial set of Uta's newest album, and twenty barrels of booze*

The Crew: *move like a wave, taking up the gifts*

Shanks: What brought this on?

Benn: Just thought we could use a new activity for tonight, you've all been working so hard lately and all.

Thirty minutes later

The crew: *absorbed in sorting Lego pieces and reading the instruction manual*

Benn: *also absorbed*

You: *elbows him* aren't you trying to get laid?

Benn: but Legos.

You: You really gonna pick Legos over pussy?

Benn: but what if they finish it without me?

You: I'll make it have an accident, so they have to start all over. Now get out of here.

Benn: I can't believe that your plan worked.

You: yeah yeah, get outta here before they notice you're gone

Benn: You're the best *kisses your forehead and flings himself off the side of the ship*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

List of Up-and-coming works

[classiccowboy]

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his girlfriend evie as they go through his football career.

*face claim is Yasmin Quintana*

part one. part two. part three.

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, bengals and 34,034 others

breezyevie: shout out to the sweet lady who sent us these cookies to start the new season! we are so excited to have j with us this year! #uno

view all 1,238 comments…

user: let’s go UNO

joeyb_9: put some respect on him

> breezyevie: they’re about to find out.

user: chosen 1

user: uno finna go crazy!

> breezyevie: i see no lies.

lahjay10_: let’s work

> breezyevie: work work work work work work

user: why is no one talking about the cookies?

> breezyevie: they were so good.

user: get ready to be destroyed this season.

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, bengals, and 117,505 others

joey_9: “If you die without any scars then you never did anything worth fighting for.”

view all 2,009 comments…

user: marry me

> breezyevie: @joeyb_9 me first. 🥺

user: tiger king

breezyevie: it’s joe time baby!

user: ain’t that the truth

user: this your year joey b!

lahjay10_: no pain no gain

> breezyevie: wise words yoda

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, taylorswift, bengals and 43,298 others

breezyevie: in honor of the new season starting this sundey! it’s who dey forever.

view all 1,727 comments…

user: this our queen!

user: drop the link

> breezyevie: on my story!

user: long hair joe need to make a comeback pending your approval

> breezyevie: i approve!

user: ev over everyone!

user: time for joe to get injured

> breezyevie: time for you to be a decent human being.

joeyb_9: you’re the best

> breezyevie: my heart. 🤍

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, taylorswift and 289,528 others

breezyevie: Let’s do this shit. #whodey

view all 2,783 comments…

user: i feel like your personality is too dominant for clean boy joe

> breezyevie: i feel like you don’t know us

user: i am so excited for game day content! i love you!

> breezyevie: it’s coming!!

user: sis donate the jacket!

> breezyevie: but.. i love it.

user: sorry sis he’s cheating on you

> breezyevie: in your dreams?

> millyg: can’t you be more original? it’s always the cheating trope.

user: that’s her MAN!

> breezyevie: FOR LIFE

user: delete this, lmao.

> breezyevie: awe, this bothers you huh?

user: can you fight?

> breezyevie: i’m prepared. 💪🏼

user: i’m confused.. are you his gf? your page looks like a fan page.

> breezyevie: people can’t fan girl their own boyfriends? yikes, this is embarrassing for me.

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, bengals, lahjay10_ and 413,108 others

joeyb_9: Andddddddddd I’m back

view all 3,909 comments

lahjay10_: back like you never left

> breezyevie: cant wait to watch y’all run it back

user: in joe we trust

> breezyevie: always and forever.

user: you’re girlfriend is so average, you could do better.

> breezyevie: ouch. my fragile ego. 💔

user: ur the mvp

user: i love how ev is always in joes comments replying to everyone. she’s my favorite person ever.

> breezyevie: stop it, you’re my favorite person ever!

user: overrated af

> breezyevie: i think you mean hot af. because dayum. 🥵

user: THE JOE SHOW

breezyevie: the goat reporting for duty?

> joeyb_9: dork 🤣

bengals: He’s back!

BONUS:

liked by millyg, lahjay10_, joeyb_9 and 780,826 others

breezyevie: i love you.. and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

view all 7,283 comments…

user: omg! i just seen joes post!

user: i’m so happy i could cry!

millyg: my best friend.. you deserve this love.

user: not joe posting you for this after not posting you for like 4 years

joeyb_9: life with you is my favorite.

> breezyevie: please never change.

user: get that ring!

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, millyg, sam_hubbard_ and 871,038 others

joeyb_9: vibes are pretty.

view all 8,372 comments…

user: joe please i can’t handle this i have exams to study for

user: there is no fucking way he just dropped this bomb

user: the most basic caption ever

> user: yall cant ever just be satisfied. obviously its not a problem for them, let them enjoy this.

user: respectfully, this ruined my day.

user: I AM SO EXCITED

user: ev finally becoming that NFL wifey!

breezyevie: i will be smiling and giggling uncontrollably for the foreseeable future. i love you jb. 4ever.

[sc0tters]

Just One Tub - Leon Draisaitl

summary: who would have thought that your freezer breaking on a hot summers day, would be the perfect start to your love story?

request: yes/no (was actually meant to be for a summer fic exchange but it is now December so…)

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 2.91k

authors note: so this was all ready to go in August before I totally fell off of Tumblr but I pressed save rather than post so I figured I’d edit it before I published it and now here it is!

You knew it was dangerous falling for him.

From the moment you knocked on his door needing a place to leave your frozen foods after yours decided to stop working in the heat of June. Leon was days away from going home after an anticlimactic end to the season, but when you showed up the idea of packing was pushed to the back of his mind.

There was something endearing about the way your voice cracked with panicked rambles as you begged him to hold your ice cream and frozen meals that you weren’t prepared to lose when your freezer broke. Leon didn’t know how or why things changed, but in the midst of offering him a spoon as you sacrificed a pint of mint chip ice cream that didn’t make the cut to join his freezer, he knew you were different.

And before he was even ready to snap his fingers, Leon found himself more focused on learning your quirks and less about packing his suitcase for his inevitable return home.

𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨

Leon grinned as your giggles were masked with soft sips of red wine “no I’m being serious!” He complained recounting the story of how he never cooked in his kitchen after the time he burnt a pot of cooked pasta.

You shook your head half-amused, half-concerned as you placed your wine glass down “I’ll teach you to cook sometime.” Your offer lingered in the air making his cheeks grow warm at the thought of spending more time with you “you don’t have to do that.” He shook his head not wanting to have you see just how bad his skills in the kitchen were.

It was bad enough that he already had your lasagne engraved into his tastebuds forever, and that was something you said you just ‘threw together.’

But it seemed that you were on a different page as a lightbulb popped above your head “consider it a thank you for housing my ice cream.”Your offer made him nod as he scratched his beard “I’ll be gone for three months though.” His tone was disappointed as he was still trying to figure out how to approach his pretty neighbour, and to this day he swore he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t knocked on his door.

So call him stupid but he was willing to ask your electrician to come over and teach him how to blow a fuse, in the hopes of getting you over more.

You couldn’t help it as you looked around his living room “what is it that you do for a living?” The hockey memorabilia that lay scattered on the walls dawned on you. Yet it still didn’t occur to you that he could have been a hockey player, honestly you thought he was a fan.

After all, a lawyer wouldn’t exactly have court memorabilia just lying around…

It felt like the world stopped around him as you seemed to be the only person in the building who didn’t know who he was “i-i work in sports.” He watched tentatively, almost immediately assuming that he was caught “cool.” You shrugged growing distracted as the timer on the air fryer went off.

Like puzzle pieces falling into place Leon realised that he could have been screwed “I’ll get plates.” No Leon was definitely fucked.

𝙉𝙚𝙬𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙅𝙪𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨

Just like clockwork as Leon came back you had caught on to what his true profession. It had been weeks of teaching him how to cook but now after days of radio silence from you, Leon had to admit he was confused when you didn’t schedule a weekly cooking session.

So as he watched you walk back into your apartment he couldn’t help it when he practically followed you in “are you okay?” His face displayed amounts of concern, as his voice made you freeze

The truth was that you had known for weeks after a season highlights video popped up on YouTube where you learnt all about what he actually did. And at first you really didn’t care, but when you told your friends about it they considered it a red flag from the German.

So with the logic of if he was hiding his profession what else could he be hiding, had made you pull away “I’m fine Le.” You had shortened the boys name highlighting that you were irritated “you know you’re doing that thing when you lie.” He crossed his arms following you into your apartment.

It made you furrow your eyebrows “doing what?” You tapped your foot on the floor partly intrigued as to what he could have picked up on “you hollow out your cheeks when you’re hiding something.” It was something always had your parents knowing you were lying and part of you was amused that someone had brought it up after all of those years.

So as the small smile formed on your lips you finally broke “why didn’t you tell me?” You asked holding up a newspaper that’s front image was of him in his full hockey gear.

It was clear you were more confused than hurt or even irritated and that’s what stuck with the boy most “you gave me a chance to be just me.” His confession had you cursing yourself for opting to avoid him “look you will always be just you to me.” You watched his lips form into a smile at the words.

He nodded running his fingers through his hair “but if I am fully honest with you then I hope to get the same back.” Your words made his heart bloom with joy, he liked being just Leon to you.

𝙊𝙝 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙗𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨

The boys knew that something was going on with Leon. First it started with silent daydreams in the middle of team outings, before they knew it then Leon started feeling much happier. The grin that was left constantly left plastered on his face served as only one of the mere hints to the fact that he was clearly in love.

So as any good teammate would, the boys started with basic badgering. In the hopes of getting to know who the mystery girl was.

But what the didn’t expect was that they’d finally learn about you when Leon wasn’t even around “hi Lenny!” You grinned looking up from your clipboard to see one of your favourite patients with someone you had never met, his dad.

The widened eyes were a clear give away as he laughed “thought Lauren mention that I would bring him in today.” Connor laughed as he held his hand out for you to shake “No it’s just that Le made you seem shorter.” Your mouth was never one for keeping you in check and today seemed to be no different.

Now it was the boys turn to freeze “you’re the girl from next door with the ice cream?” It made total sense, Leon’s description of you was bang on, and as your cheeks shone a crimson shade of red you couldn’t deny it.

It made Connor laugh “I hope that it’s the only thing the bugger has shared.” Leon had watched you break a blender upon seeing a spider in it and eat a cake from the floor that you spent all week making.

Lenny reminded you that he was there was he let out a bark, making you crouch down to stroke him before you started your examination “it is but he is like so clearly adores you.” Connor had to admit the joy he got watching you hide your cheeks as you so clearly felt the same way.

It seemed that you weren’t going to remain a mystery girl to his teammates for long because by the next week, all of them were changing their dogs vets to you.

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

Years had gone by and Leon wished he could say that his curiosity about you had diminished. But as you integrated yourself further into his circle, he knew he was so incredibly screwed.

Day by day he was falling deeper in love with you “are you even listening to me?” Connor whined as he snapped his fingers in front of Leon’s face. It was the all stars break and as neither boy joined the list, they instead opted for a holiday in Mexico.

Leon practically begged you to come along as he didn’t want to third wheel, and knew that you deserved a break to be a good bit of company.

You were stood at the bar chatting away with some guy that nobody from the group had ever seen before “someone needs to remind him that he should go up and get her back.” Lauren smirked as she sat on her fiancés lap.

It made Leon roll his eyes “I am not jealous.” He shook his head cutting himself off when he heard you laugh “you sure about that?” The couple teased making him scoff.

Lauren knew all about how you were into the German as she had been up to be your shoulder to cry on during the many nights where he had left your apartment after making sure his outfits were good enough for the nights that he was going out on. His smiles and laughter as he spoke about the excitement of how a girl would invite him out for a night out as he prayed that you would ask him out.

You never thought that you’d ever see the girl outside of the center, but Lauren loved getting to know the girl who made Leon’s smile grow larger than she had ever known it to be.

As the blonde duo watched on they couldn’t help but smirk they watched him get up “you going to go get her?” Lauren couldn’t help but be somehow proud of herself as she had given you the confidence shot to get you over to the other guy.

Because of course whilst Leon had gone on these dates, you could never find yourself with the confidence to do it too. But at least this trip seemed to be your breaking free moment “maybe she needs someone to make sure she’s okay.” Leon shrugged as he looked to his took his jacket off knowing that he was going to completely over power the other guy in size and build.

Now Connor and Lauren would have totally be lying if they hadn’t rolled around to watch what happened in front of them “hey peach.” A chill came down your neck as you felt the Germans hand rest against your back.

It seemed that the American in front of you matched your expression “hey bro I didn’t know that she was taken.” As he raised his hands in surrender slowly backing away, your rambles of protest seemed to do nothing for him.

Leon realised that his hand was still on you as you turned to him “peach, really?” Laughter erupted from your lips as you shook your head “honestly it could have been buttercup.” He shrugged as you noticed the couple hide on their lounger when they saw you looking back at them.

You knew you couldn’t have been mad for too long “what was it about him that you hated so much?” Your question lingered in Leon’s mind as he sighed knowing that he couldn’t truly tell you what he thought. Because honestly, it was the fact that he hated how it was someone else who made you laugh the way he could. That was when he knew that he couldn’t try be with another woman ever again, you were all that he wanted.

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

Valentine’s Day had always been a bit of an odd day for you. It wasn’t necessarily a sad day, but somehow your luck always meant you were home alone watching Netflix with a tub of ice cream as you waited for your dinner to arrive.

Even as it had been almost a year, your question from Mexico still lingered on his mind with every date night he got ready for, because you seemed to constantly plague his mind, even if you weren’t in his presence.

You had finally settled on the couch when a harsh knock came at the door “what the hell?” You mumbled letting go of the remote as you got up again “I’m coming!” You repeated assuming that it could have only been an irritated delivery man with your pizza.

Your wallet was in your hand as you made your way to the door “Leon?” You furrowed your eyebrows seeing him soaked from the pouring rain “you are going to catch a cold.” You clicked your tongue as you ushered him inside of your warm apartment.

Your eyes traveled down to the bouquet that he held in his hand which resulted in him panicking as he thrusted the roses into your chest “t-these are yours!” He stammered forgetting all about the words that he had come up with on his walk to the florist.

It made you softly smile sensing his nerves “what’s going on?” You asked letting the door shut behind him as your hand reached for his.

The gesture made his heart bloom “I hated that he was the one who made you laugh.” His confession made your eyebrows furrow as you cocked your head “I don’t follow.”

Leon took a step closer to you “in Mexico you asked me why I hated the guy that hit on you.” His calloused fingers were rough against your cheek as you tilted your head to him, leaning into his touch.

His breathing was heavy “I don’t like the fact that there gets to be a guy who makes your world whole and he isn’t me.” The words seemed as if they had the power to freeze time where it stood.

You felt nauseous thinking that this was all just a dream as your mind played tricks on you “why can’t it be you?” The question painted the walls as his ears ached his heart pounded so loudly.

But that was the question that remained unasked for all these seasons, why was it that two people fit so well together but couldn’t find a way beyond mere friends.

Each of your families knew the other and at this point everyone saw it as a mere matter of time until you guys would be more than just neighbours.

The answer was on Leon’s tongue but his lips stayed sealed as his mouth went dry “I want this but if you aren’t all in then I’d rather not lose you than get the joy of calling you mine.” You whispered shutting the gap between the both of you.

There lay the answer as the atmosphere suddenly became warmer around you both “please say it.” You pleaded bringing your hand up to cup his own cheek.

That was all it took to light what seemed like a fire beneath his ass “I’m yours forever and always.” Leon declared dipping his head down to let his lips brush against yours.

You swore that the harps played as you melted into his touch letting your body mould against his “shit that’s my pizza.” You pulled away from him hearing a knock at the door.

𝘼 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝘿𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙈𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙚

You swore you hadn’t dropped from cloud nine over the last twelve hours “you looking at it won’t make it any less real.” Leon smiled as he walked out of the bathroom “I just can’t believe we’re here.” Your cheeks grew sore because of how big your grin had been that day.

Leon had his towel loosely hung by his hips “and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” His voice was rough as he pressed a kiss against your shoulder “but I can’t believe you refused to join me in the shower.” He nipped at your skin, causing you to let out a gasp.

Your hand raised to softly hit his chest “well Mr Draisaitl you have to work for rewards like that.” It made him laugh as a knock came at the door “well I think that your husband deserves a treat Mrs Draisaitl.” The hockey player made his way to the door.

It made you grow confused as the sounds of someone calling “room service.” Came from the other side “thank you!” You watched as Leon shut the door bring what he ordered in.

There he held a tub of ice cream, the very same brand and flavour that you begged him to put into his freezer first all those years ago “you did not.” A laugh left your lips as he held out two spoons in the other hand.

The gap between you both closed to nearly nothing as he smiled “figured it was only right we started off marriage with how we started back then.” Leon placed it on the table next to you “what did I do to get a boy as sweet as you?” You asked as your arms wrapped around his neck so that you could peck his lips.

The comment made him scoff as he picked you up resulting in a squeal leaving your lips “don’t give me a chance to remind you that I am a man, peach.” Leon dropped you onto the bed as he crawled onto the mattress to join you.

Well it looked like that ice cream was going to have to wait.

Let’s just hope that it doesn’t melt this time.

[y2kmcblingirliee]

Pairings -|Dom!Kate, Mean!Kate| |sub!reader| Kate x Black Fem Reader

cw: first person pov praise kink/ slight degradation |

I was scrolling through my daily dose of edits of my girlfriend. screaming & kicking her feet at how hot she is. Waiting for Kate to get home. Usually I would go to practice with her, but this day I was feeling very tired so I decided to stay home. I cut off my phone & turned on my favorite show “HeartBreak High” to binge watch the new season. Before I could even watch the first episode I go & grab some snacks from the pantry. I grab some cookies & hot Cheetos. I go back to me & Kate’s shared room. I start to get really into the show until I hear a knock door. I went to go open the door & I see Kate standing there with her basketball bag & some flowers. (Ps, they’re my favorite kind!!) Kate leans in to give me a kiss & hands me the flowers. We go to my room.

Kate tells me “Baby, there is this party you wanna come be my plus 1?” I say “of course you know i love parties!!” So we both get in the shower together. Of course Kate is being all touchy, but we continue showering. I put on my cute little outfit. Kate is eyeing me up & down. She said “Baby, you look so good.” & slaps my ass.

She holds my hand & walks with me to the car. As Kate is driving she puts her hand on my thigh. I’m taking selfies on my phone of me & her. Kate decided to start touching on the waist band of my pants & puts her hand inside of my thong. So of course I turn to look at Kate & I’m like “Babe, what are you doing?” She says “My hand is just cold” with a smile on her face as she leans in to give me a kiss. Kate continues to drive with her hand in my pants. I put my phone in my bag & listen to Kate’s Playlist. Kate continues to finger me as she’s driving. I start to moan at the sudden stop. Kate takes her fingers out and licks on them & continues driving as if she just wasn’t in me..

So I start begging. Saying things like “Baby, that felt so good please put your hand back.” & kissing her neck & saying “Baby, can you just roll your seat back please.” To her saying “No, Y/N I need to drive us to this party, okay?” So of course I sit with a pout, cross my arms & I turn to the window acting very dramatic! (Which I mean who wouldn’t, I was just about to come..) Kate just laughs at the fact & continues driving.

After what felt like forever we finally get to the party! I see my friends, I go over and start talking to Hannah & Jada. We are all talking until I turn my head & I see Kate just eyeing me down from across the room. So I tell them I’ll be right back, I go to grab a drink & walk over to where Kate is standing. I say “Hi baby, what are you doing.” & Kate holds onto my waist & puts me in front of her.

While she’s kissing up on my neck. As she’s kissing me I smell the Victory Golden on her mouth. I turn around and whisper to her “Babe, aren’t you speaking to your friends, I just want to check up on you.” Kate starts to eye me down & whisper back to me & say “Baby, honestly I just want to be in you right now..” So I laugh & I walk off, mid way Kate slaps my ass. I continue walking back over to my friends.

I go back over to Hannah, Jada. Kennise FINALLY came to the party after taking what felt like forever to get ready. Of course “sexy redd - Get it sexyy” comes on! So of course the three of us walk over and start acting BADD. We are all twerking on each other & having so much fun! I look across the room & see Kate sitting down with a cup of what looks like don julio in her hand, with her legs spread out watching me dance. I see her laughing with Caitlin. I walk over & sit on Kate’s lap. I start to kiss on her while begging her to come dance with me! Which she says “Of course baby cmon.” I grab her hand & they change the song to “It bend like Banana by Vybz Kartel” Obviously I start whining on her. Don’t let Kate’s whiteness fool you she can buss down behind a few whines.

As I’m dancing, she starts to kiss on my neck again & starts saying “baby let’s go home. I want you.” I say “but baby, I’m having so much fun though!” Kate says back “I know baby, I know. But I want to make you feel real good alright mama?” I say Okay to her and hold her hand as we start saying bye to our friends. Eventually We get to our car. Kate quickly starts the car & gets us home asap. Kate starts to make out with me as I’m trying to unlock the front door so it takes a minute, until I finally get the door open which felt like AGES. We start to walk up the stairs & Kate pushes me on the bed. Kate starts to take off her shirt & pants. I start to do the same but she stops me & says “Baby, I’ll do that for you.” Kate takes off my shirt & my pants leaving me in only my thong & bra. She starts to kiss down my whole body & she goes down near my thighs. She gets close to my pussy & takes off my thong with her teeth. As she does that she starts to eat me out. I start tapping her as a signal to stop. So Kate lifts her head. She says “What?” & I tell her I’m getting a call.

She says “Okay well try to stay quiet then, You wanted it so bad didn’t you?” Kate drops from under me. She goes in the bathroom she puts her hair in a bun, she grabs my silk scarf & bonnet. I answer the call. I’m talking on the phone with my friend. Kate comes over & starts to wrap my hair for me but she says “your gonna need it, it’s gonna be a long night.” She winks at me & starts to go down and kiss my thighs. I say to my friend “No, but yeah we should definitely go to that party. I mean it would be a bunch of fun.” Kate starts to eat me out at this point. So I'm stuttering & moaning. She’s making me look a hot mess, until I eventually just hang up the phone. Kate says “Oh no why’d you hang up on your friend?” I say “I couldn’t handle speaking & having your tongue on me.”

Kate starts smiling like the cocky motherfucker she is. I say but you can continue now. Kate says “no, I’m done I’m gonna go shower.” & I’m like “wait that’s all?” Kate says “Be grateful for what I give you, I could’ve gave you nothing at all.” With her winking & walking to the bathroom. I just turned over & went to sleep thinking how can Kate be so cruel.. Kate gets into the bed & cuddles up with me as I have my little pout on my face. Kate just starts to kiss me a bunch till the pout goes away & forms into a smile. We fall asleep together.

I hope you enjoyed!!

[hearts4hughes]

hits different | trevor zegras

(trevor zegras x fem! reader)

a/n: i’ve had this idea in my notes forever, and i’ve just managed to finish it😭 it took wayyyy too long, but i’m proud of this!

warnings: intoxication, alcohol, angst, light swearing

the pulsating bass reverberates through your body as you stand at the bar, drink in hand, trying to wash your hands of the memories of a love gone wrong. your mind drifts to the mess that trevor made of you and the hurtful images that linger in your thoughts.

you wondered if he had already moved on. if he was cooking for another girl at his apartment, or if he had strolled through the streets of anaheim with her hand in hand. had he forgotten about you? three years of love washed down the drain like dirt and filth as he confided in another woman with his love. just the mere thought sends waves of nausea through your body.

it didn’t make sense. you thought breaking up with him was the right decision, but since then, all you’ve felt was pure heartbreak.

it all started with the duck’s bad season. he was frustrated and stressed. he thought he was the problem- even though he wasn’t- and he went into an emotional hole. at the time, you didn’t understand what was happening. you thought he fell out of love with you, so as hard as it was, you broke up with him. the second the words flew off your tongue, he broke down- sobbing, yelling, begging, anything that would help you stay.

you can't help but reflect on how you used to move on so easily, like switching out partners and escaping town, but everything feels different now. the bars you visit play songs that remind you of what once was, and it hurts like nothing you've experienced before.

“y/n,” julia calls out, snapping you back into reality, “you have to stop thinking of him, it’s not going to help.” her hand rubs comfortingly up and down your back. you look at her, your face completely blank of emotion. it’s easier said than done to forget about someone who preoccupied so much of your time, and the alcohol in your system isn’t helping.

“i know, i just,” you stammer, “i just can’t escape him. it’s like he’s haunting me. everywhere i look i’m reminded of the memories we made.” she looks at you with pity.

“love is a lie, babe. you know this already.” she says- the same thing she’s been telling you since forever. “remember when you broke up with aaron?” she asks and you nod in response. “you thought he was the one and that you’d never ever move on, but after a little bit you did. you just need to give it time and you’ll get over him.”

whining, you grab your shot, throwing your head back and downing it. your nose scrunched as the alcohol burned down your throat. “but what if i don’t want to get over him, jul? i don’t want to forget about him. i just want to be with him, i just want trevor.” your words were slurred- almost incoherent.

people around you began to stare and watch the unfolding scene. protectively, julia brought you into a hug, shielding your face from everyone before they saw your tears. “let’s get you home, honey.” she cooed, wrapping her arm around your waist and helping you out of your seat.

-

julia brought you home, making sure you got into your house safely before driving away. you swung the front door open and stumbled into your apartment. the digital clock on the wall read 2:20am. you ripped off your heels, discarding them somewhere in your living room, and walking into your bedroom. your hair was a frizzy mess, lipstick smudged, mascara smeared everywhere, but you could care less.

you find yourself alone in your room, surrounded by memories of the past, with one particular item catching your eye- trevor’s hat. it sits on a shelf, seemingly untouched since the day you parted ways. the sight of it evokes a rush of bittersweet emotions, and you can't help but pick it up, feeling its fabric against your fingertips. the hat holds a piece of him, a piece of the love you once shared, and the weight of the memories is overwhelming.

as you hold the hat in your hands, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. memories of your time together flood your mind – the laughter, the inside jokes, the intimate moments shared under that very hat. you miss him, and the feeling intensifies with each passing day. the warmth and comfort that his presence once brought into your life are now a distant memory.

you bring the hat close to your chest, hugging it tightly as if it was him. the scent of his cologne, faint but still lingering, brings you back to those tender moments when he would embrace you, and your heart aches.

with each tear that falls, you let yourself feel the grief, the longing, and the emptiness that comes with a wound that hasn’t completely healed. you find yourself whispering his name into the fabric, wishing he were there, holding you.

suddenly, you hear a key turning in the door down the hallway. is it him? is it trevor? or has julia come to take you away from your apartment and the suffocating reminders of him?

the door closes and you hear footsteps approaching your room. the footsteps become louder as the mystery person gets closer. you close your eyes, not bothered to know who it is; however, a small part of you hopes, even wishes that it’s him.

“love?” he calls out, causing your eyes to shoot open. you see him standing in the doorway- a blurry version of him due to the alcohol and crying. a frown adorns his lips as he looks down at you. your tear stained face and bloodshot eyes give him a hint of what you were just doing. “oh y/n,” he coos, making his way over to you and repositioning you into his lap.

his arms snake around your body, pulling you close to his chest. you open your mouth to say something, but the words get caught in your throat. he presses reassuring kisses to the top of your head as you cry into his embrace.

"i’m so sorry, y/n," he whispers, his voice filled with remorse. "i messed up, and i’ve been a mess ever since you left." you try to find the right words to say, but your emotions are too overwhelming, your heart too raw. instead, you bury your face in his chest, holding on to him as if he might slip away again.

"fuck, i thought you moved on," you manage to say through your tears, your voice shaking. "all i could imagine was you with another girl, trev.”

he sights, gently rubbing your back. "no, love, there hasn't been anyone else. i’ve been miserable without you. you were always the one."

“i thought you had fallen out of love with me, that’s why i broke up with you.” your voice trembles with hurt as he feels a pang of guilt in his heart.

his expression softens, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "i was going through a rough time, and I didn't know how to handle it. i thought i was the problem, and i didn't want to bother you with my struggles. i never meant to hurt you." you move your head away from his body, staring deeply into his eyes. he’s been crying too. in that moment, you realize that he's hurting too, and maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for healing and forgiveness.

"i miss you, trevor," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "my friends try to take me out to have fun and get drunk, but i always end up slurring your name until someone puts me in a car. they’re going to stop inviting me soon.” you joke- a coping mechanism you’ve had since you were young.

he lets out a small laugh, bringing his hand up to wipe away stray tears, “i’m here now," he replies, "and i want to try again, to make things right. i love you, and my life is a fucking wreck without you."

“i love you too,” your voice is soft and sincere. a smile graces his lips and for the first time since forever, your lips connect with his, reviving what you thought was gone.

[stormberry-12]

Hellooo how are you this fine evening..

I wanted the ask if you could make one for jj where he does something that upsets the reader and she’s crying and sad and jj gets the silent treatment the whole week but he starts to cry hard and beg for her to talk to him and reader can’t help but comfort and hug him and give him all the love that she has and jj is all pouty and sad in the end

It’s fine if not <3 :)

didn't mean to ~ jj maybank x reader

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!Fem!Reader

warnings: language, angst, arguing, silent treatment.

notes: thxs for the request! Sorry I haven't posted in forever guys, im doing final exams at school rn and stuff. Also, sorry this is so short. But anyway, I loved this concept and also hated the way they solved JJ and Kie's fight in Season 3 so I tried to recreate it here with a better ending. Sorry, this took so long lol, much love!

"I mean, it would all blow up anyway. You know? Like... Look at you. You got your new threads on!" JJ exclaimed. "Look at me. What do I got? This? This piece of shit?" He threw something out of frustration, panting. You looked back at his run-down house, the eviction notice nailed to the front door with bright yellow police tape crossing over it.

"Getting kicked out of this place in three weeks anyway. shit, I don't even got parents right now. Why would you care? Why would you care? I'm just some loser that..."

"JJ..."

"You don't care. No, you don't!"

"I do care!" you shouted, getting frustrated with his attitude.

"No, you got parents that live in Figure Eight, you know?"

"That's not my fault."

"That's your future." he countered walking towards the water, hand running through his hair in frustration.

"Look, if you need us, we're gonna help you. I'm... I'll help."

"No- It's that right there! Okay? Like... It's so easy for you to say that." he whirled around to face you, yelling, "You know why? Because you're a Kook. You're a Kook, Y/n!"

"Yeah... I'm a Kook. I was such a Kook when I was living in a cave with you for a month! Soaking in the Kook life!"

"That's not what I'm talking about. GOD!" he exclaimed, reaching for his bike, he swung his leg over the seat.

"Jayj, don't leave." you pleaded, the engine of his bike revved and he started to drive away,

"JJ, WHAT THE HELL?" You screamed after him, tears rolling down your face, "MAYBANK!"

You were pissed the fuck off.

The first day after your fight you hadn't seen JJ, you cried for a couple hours, indulging in your favorite ice cream watching a sad rom-com, really getting in your feels.

Kie texted you to ask you what was up, the pogues had gone fishing that day but you never showed, to angry and sad to show your face to the world.

'Ask the blond kid,' was all you responded. you watched as her three typing bubbles flashed beneath your text.

'shit head's not here either,' she responded. 'wtf is going on,'

'fight. he called me a kook.'

'oh shit,' was all she said.

A few days later you walked around the chateau and dug through John B's fridge, you were fully aware of JJ's presence on the couch but still continued to ignore him. It was closing in on a week since you had last uttered a word to him.

Grabbing a chilled beer you walked past JJ and to the front door.

"Y/n," he said, voice cracking.

It wasn't the first time JJ had tried to talk to you this week and once again you ignored him. You slipped your shoes on and walked out onto the porch, slamming the door behind you. You flinched at how harsh it was but brushed the feeling away as you took a sip of your drink.

You sat at the edge of JJ's hot tub, the disco lights twinkled in the water, and the beer started to make you feel nauseous. You set it down and let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that made the colorful lights spur in all different directions.

'Oh stop it Y/n' you told yourself, you would not cry anymore over this boy, if he didn't want to date a 'kook' that was his problem.

A long time must have passed, you had slid down fully into the hot tub finishing off your drink and basking in your own thoughts. The sun had set and the tides changed across the water.

"Go!" You heard someone on the deck grunt, you looked up to see John B pushing JJ out the door towards you locking him outside. JJ made his way down the stairs awkwardly and stood at the edge of the hot tub across from you, not getting in like he was looking for your permission.

"What do you want Maybank?" you asked quietly.

"I-uh," he sniffled and you focused closer in the dim light to see tears streaming down his face. "I made you a bracelet,"

He mumbled in the softest voice that made your heart clench and reached out to hand it to you. You looked at it closely, intricate little hearts knotted into the design, made with your favorite colors. And of course, the sea blue strings that you had told him reminded you of his eyes countless times. You didn't know what to say. Until you heard the soft sobbing coming from his lips, he thought you didn't like it.

"No, JJ..." you cooed, wrapping the bracelet around your wrist and tieing it in a crisp knot. You slid yourself through the water and stood in front of him taking in his state. He looked at you with pleading eyes and you wrapped your arms around him. He collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You felt butterflies in your stomach at his touch and lifted a hand to stroke his hair. God you loved this boy so much.

"I-i'm sorry," he cried, "I called you a kook, I'm such a dick, It's all my fault..."

"No, Jayj-" you whispered.

"Yes,"

"No, I am in the wrong too, shouldn't have ignored you like that," you whispered.

"But I called you a kook," he said again.

"And then I was acting like one, it was wrong,"

You stood there in silence hugging each other, you you feel his breathing slow and he recovered to look up at you.

"Please forgive me," he said.

"Always, as long as you forgive me," he nodded frantically at you causing you to giggle.

"Thank god that's over," you heard Pope say in the distance.

"Yeah, pass me one of those?" Kie said, taking a beer out of the cooler, the rest of the pogues walking toward the hot tub.

You all settle down in the warm water, JJ snuggling into your side, looking at your bracelet sweetly for the rest of the night. You kissed the top of his head, knowing what ever happed in the future you could always get through it with him.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Forever｡⋆.

The Ghoul x plus size reader

So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go

Warnings: very loosely implied cannibalism, fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 481

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The Wasteland was beautiful in a way, she thought. The vast emptiness that unfolded in front of her from her perch in an abandoned highrise was what she imagined the pre-war ocean to look like; waves of yellow and orange, reflecting the setting sun. 

“Eat.” The rasp of her companion pulled her gaze from the haze of night quickly settling over them. She looked upon the embers of the now extinguished fire where her dinner sat, warming. She did not know where the cut of meat had come from, nor did she care to find out. But the rumble of her stomach was all the motivation she needed to reach out and carefully lift the charred slab from where it rested upon an ancient pan.

The crunch of dirt under his boots was all the warning she received before the sun-worn ghoul took a seat on the bench beside her. A groan passed his lips like a puff of air as he finally laid down his heavy load. “We’ll get to Philly tomorrow, what’s left of it anyway. Stop for supplies.” 

She hummed in agreement as she leaned back against the window sill. “I’m almost outta vials.” It was an almost defeated answer to a question she hadn’t asked. She knew he had been reckless with the last job, pushing himself too far, stretching his stash too thin. But long gone were the days where she would scream at him for being so stupid as he ignored her almost constant warnings. Now she only wiped her right hand off on her dusty pants and fished three small vials from a pocket on her plump thigh.

Without a word, she handed them to him and took another bite of her meal. The leather of his gloves gently caressed her palm as he took the last dregs of humanity he had left. “You always carry these ‘round?”

His voice was far softer than she was used to, sand against sand rather than the grind of stones. She finally looked over at him, just catching the flash of long-dead emotion in his deep brown eyes. “It’s what us cowpoke do, stay prepared.” She winked at him with a small but no-less genuine smile, expecting a snide comment from the old ghoul.

Instead, he took her free hand into his own, their fingers intertwining. She could feel the places where they had been broken and cut, the roughness of his skin that came with the curse of his very existence. His grip on her tightened as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

She simply nodded and turned back to watch as the last ember flickered out as his eyes remained upon her, some long dormant ache in his chest rearing up once more.

And as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, in the darkness, he could smile back at her.

[Verse 1] Let's drive for no reason, let's see where these wheels land Let's grind down the curve of this earth You look fine in the evening and, honey, it's starting to storm When we kissed in the car in the school parking lot Where I'd go with my friends to get drunk Used to wish I meant anything to anywhere, to anyone [Pre-Chorus] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you wеre a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And thе edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go Woo [Verse 2] Remember when we called the cops 'Cause I got too high, and you got scared And the cops just laughed? We can't make rent, so we window-shop In the Upper West Side , oh, my God Could you imagine that? [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go [Outro] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you were a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And the edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end To see where you end

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria

[lambilegs]

does it happen in a season? (part three: SPRING)

in her senior year of university, lee is ready for nothing more but yet another monotonous cycle of meeting her new roommate, adjusting, then living in separate spheres for the rest of the year. the last thing she's prepared for is: curiosity.

last chapter (WINTER) | next chapter (SUMMER i)

soundtrack: the closer I get to you - roberta flack and donny hathaway; the cutest pair - regina song; I like it - debarge; crush - ethel cain; fade into you - mazzy star; weak and I'm so into you - swv; april encounter - hen meiwei; k. - cigarettes after sex

(contains: 21K words of more pining (yeah you know I keep doubting the word count could go higher but then gay longing and yapping take over so I apologize 😔), college!au lee harker, set in the nineties, content warning for: smoking cigarettes, jokes about cigarettes, description of transphobic and anti-sex toy-historical ideas (sex wars of 1980s), more religious jokes ofc, internalized homophobia, religious trauma, depictions of homophobia + fetishization of lesbians, sexual content, depictions of anxiety)

important note about sexual content: the start of sexual content will be marked by ✩ (bolded green-coloured star) and the end of it will be marked by ✩ (bolded red-coloured star). minors, and anyone who doesn't desire to read nsfw content, please use these markers in order to skip nsfw content.

----

SPRING. SOMETIME IN THE 1990s.

“okay, I think we need to make a pros and cons list,” maria says decisively, taking out her notepad and pen. 

“stop that right now,” amaya interjects, ripping the pen from maria’s hand. “the only con is the roommate thing.”

“which, might I remind you, is pretty significant,” maria points out, stabbing her pen in the direction of lee, who watches the entire interaction in a conflicted mixture of amusement and frustration. “even if you two get together, sure, it’ll be a pro that you guys know how to live together, but still, if something happens, it’ll be messy.”

“or you guys could stay together forever, and it all ends happily ever after. and you’ll also have one of the sweetest meet cutes known to man,” amaya supplies, tucking her hands under her chin and wondrously staring at lee, who averts her gaze in embarrassment, 

it’s been around a month and a half since she admitted to herself that she likes you. 

at least back in january, she had two days away from you to process it at her house before returning to the apartment. the more she thought of it, the more it logically clicked together. the moments of tension and pausing to look at you – for too long. the way she sometimes felt the strong urge to do things unreasonable, nonsensical, or even against her character, just for you. the fact that she wanted you to know her. it all made sense in the framing of her having romantic feelings for you. romantic. even the world itself tasted odd in her mouth, and felt out of place. she had heard people say that once they realized their feelings for someone else, it felt natural to think romantically of that person. but, not for lee. it had felt awkward and foreign to think of you in that way, at least with intentionality. she was used to thinking of you as her roommate and her friend. it felt jarring, this new development. 

the train ride home had had each nerve of hers prickling with anxiety. she didn’t know how to proceed. things had finally started to feel easy, and now, there was this newfound feeling to account for. should she tell you? just the idea of that sent a nauseating sense of fear through her. should she hide it? the avoidant nature of doing so felt a bit more comfortable, but still, the idea of never telling you felt wrong. she felt the need to form at least some plan. it was never in her nature to simply go with the flow. but, the end of the trip had offered her no clear answers – every side had its pros and cons, its negatives and positives.

before pushing her key into the apartment, she had taken a moment to brace her back against the opposing wall, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to release long, quiet breaths. she liked you, so things would feel different – she knew that. but, things didn’t have to be different. she didn’t want them to be different. at least not yet. what you guys had was good – it was a steady stream of support, care and, well, something comforting. she didn’t want to destroy that by confessing. or by letting her feelings take control of her.

of course, like a lot of propositions in her mind, that was easier said than done when she finally had to face you. when you scurried out of your bedroom to meet her, she was immediately hit with the thought of what if things were different? what if instead of pausing in front of her, breathing hard and smiling, you could leap into her arms? just like how a girlfriend would. her breaths nearly shuddered at the word. girlfriend. it also didn’t help how overcome with emotion she had felt in that moment. leaving you, and the apartment, three weeks prior, had been all too difficult, her mind urging her to memorize your face. the three weeks had had her thoughts mostly entrapped by her mother and her house, but, every now and then, they had strayed to you – wanting to share something with you, wondering how you’d like the snowy trees surrounding her house, or just wishing you could be near. seeing you after those long three weeks had felt like taking a breath of fresh air after remaining inside for too long. she was gripped with a strong sense of relief and comfort at the sight of your face, feeling like she was finally back in familiar and safe territory. 

she was also more anxious than usual in that moment. there was something new present, and it threw her off: her feelings – well, at least the realization of them. she supposed they had been there for a while, so technically, nothing was truly changed. but, still, looking at you and seeing not just her friend, but also, someone she… liked, made things feel different. it made her more self-conscious of her own actions and words, wondering if any could potentially indicate her feelings and cause you discomfort. the pressure of the interaction had felt like too much, so she had excused herself and slunk away to her bedroom. it took forty three minutes of lying on her bed and trying to steady her thoughts before she went back to you.

at first, she opted for remaining as quiet as possible, asking after your break, and listening intently while you ranted about being assigned to babysitting duty for your cousins when out, and how chaotic it was. by the time you were done, she had learned the name of three of your cousins. it didn’t seem all that significant a piece of information, but it had to do with you. that gave it some importance. 

her plan to remain quiet had crumbled when you paused after telling her about something you had felt was unfair towards one of your cousins, blinking at her, clearly awaiting an answer. stronger than her resistance towards saying something revealing was her desire to not disappoint you. so, she responded. and you did, too. and that gave her some assurance. maybe to avoid talking on her end would only make things worse. maybe if she took such a preventative measure to avoid saying anything awkward, she’d be shifting the dynamic prematurely, anyways. besides, above all, avoiding mutual conversation with you seemed… impossible. she wouldn’t last long, she knew that.

at one point, you had halted, staring at her, and she looked away from you, fidgeting with her hands, waiting for whatever it is you wanted to say. 

“I, um… I really missed you.”

now, her response to something like this no longer felt solely dependent on her natural inclinations and comfort levels. because now that she knew she liked you, her responses to such sentiments felt heavy with the weight of potentially being something you either do and don’t catch a hint from. and she didn’t want you to catch a hint, she didn’t want things to become messed up with you. 

but, how could she have said anything but the truth to you in that moment, when you were so open and waiting? “thanks.” she had paused, lips pressed together. “I missed you too.”

with time, as the crush – whatever it is – settled into her, things between you two had naturally gotten back to their usual routine and comfortability. every now and then, she still had the temporary moment of worrying over if a word or gesture could be indicative of her feelings. but, it wasn’t nearly as much as before. there was no use in resisting the feeling. it was there before she had even realized it, so she doubted she could do anything to change its existence. not that she really wanted to.

she was content to let the feelings linger. and to continue being your friend, and trying to proceed with how things had been before – how she cherished things being, as embarrassing as it was to admit it. and not act on the feelings, since she didn’t want to ruin things. after all, she truly had no idea of knowing if you felt even remotely close to romantically interested in her. 

however, she soon learned that not acting on it was a lot different than not wishing or desiring to act on it. 

a month and a half later, and she had decided to tell her friends, craving someone to confide in this secret to. she didn’t want to mince words, so as they waited on their orders, she bluntly, abruptly said she thought she liked you. amaya had nearly choked on her gum and maria’s water burst from her mouth. both were equally shocked, though amaya whirled into delighted bliss and maria into skeptical worry. 

“listen, I thought there was something there since the protest, but–”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

maria ignored amaya. “but, I thought of it more later that day, and it could be risky, lee.”

this led to where lee is now. listening as her friends make a pro and con list. she doesn’t really mind it – it is a structured way to objectively look at things. but, part of her doesn’t really care. she likes you, and that’s that. she also doesn’t plan to do anything about it, at least not in the foreseeable future, so listing the cons of her doing so feels fruitless.

when she says as much, amaya frowns. “why? your feelings might be reciprocated, lee.”

lee hesitates. it’s a nice thought… a really nice one. but, she doesn’t know with any certainty. sometimes, you do and say certain things that make her entertain the possibility for a split second, but she always labels it as wishful thinking, knowing her own feelings must make her at least somewhat biased. besides, the things you do that she questions could be done with solely platonic intentions in your mind. she truly has no way of knowing. 

“I don’t want to mess things up,” she mutters, picking at a napkin.

“and that’s fair,” maria replies. “it’s your roommate, and–”

amaya raises a hand. “shut up. lee, don’t listen to her. you experience a crush, like, once in a blue moon. please don’t let this opportunity slide. seize it for yourself.”

maria rolls her eyes. “god, you’re such an english major. there are consequences that could come of this, you know? if her feelings are returned, something bad might happen which can sour the living arrangements. if her feelings aren’t returned, then things might be awkward for both of them.”

“guys–” lee softly says, trying to intervene.

“and you’re such a law major,” amaya bites back. “so pessimistic. like, what about a third option? one where they both like each other, and have an amazing rest of the year living together, with more to come.”

“amay–”

“and, and,” amaya presses on, “the roommate thing is the only con. so, I don’t see why she shouldn’t go for a relationship.”

“well, for one, we don’t even know if a relationship is in the books.”

it’s the truth, but a part of lee aches at hearing it. even if she knew it was in the books, she would still be terrified at the thought of shifting what you guys have. but, another part would feel at least a lot more assured in inciting such change.

amaya sighs. “which is exactly why she should confess.”

“guys,” lee repeats, a bit louder this time, capturing their attention. “I… I don’t think I’ll be confessing anytime soon, so, there’s no need for a list.”

as maria crumples up the paper, lee’s mouth twitches in discomfort, a twinge of regret curling in her stomach. she wishes she had at least taken the chance to tell them all the pros about you.

–

on saturday morning, you stand at the sink, scrubbing away at a bowl while lee makes sunny-side-up eggs. she brought a radio with her back from her mom’s, saying it’s one she found tucked away in the living room. when you had asked her if her mom wouldn’t need it, she said there was already another one at home, and the one she brought had been kept for a while. it was such a simple line, but somehow, the way she had said it felt laced with hesitation. you wondered at it, but she then turned the radio on, so you assumed she wanted to drop it.

a few weeks later now, as the news radio plays in the background, you carefully wash the kitchen utensils, gloves getting heavy and crinkled with soap. as the scent of eggs waft through the kitchen, you can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lips. this is sweet. this moment with her, quiet and relaxed in its domesticity. you feel like you could remain suspended in time forever, so long as lee is in the kitchen with you.

after ten minutes of the calming, repetitive motions of scrubbing and wiping, lee places a plate next to you on the counter, the white surface accompanied with a fried egg and toast. “eat. we can finish the dishes after.”

we. we, we, we. she won’t even let you do the dishes alone, sweet thing.

“you know, I think the weather is officially good enough to open the windows,” you announce, reaching for the latch of the window in your living room, pushing it open. a chilled breeze drifts in, goosebumps rising to your skin. your neighbourhood is showing the signs of winter’s last push before succumbing to spring, the skies grey, slush streaking the roads and snowflakes melted into cold rains.

“yet, you still insist on the tree,” she says flatly, curling into the couch, her plate resting on the plush arm.

you look back at her, smirking. it’s march, but still, you find yourself unable to part with the tree. you two had put it together so soon before the winter break, and had only gotten to really relish in it starting from mid-january. it’s so pretty, and it seems too little an amount of time to have enjoyed it before taking it down. “I know you like it too.”

“mm. maybe,” she quietly mutters as you sit on the other side of the couch. her tongue rolls in her mouth, eyes flicking between you and the cushion between you two. it makes you itch to move closer to her, but you don’t. 

“just ‘maybe’?”

her lips curl up. “if I admit to liking it, you might keep it up till summer.”

you chuckle with a shrug. “so? it’s our apartment, we can do what we want.”

“or do what you want,” she immediately replies, the lines near her eyes crinkling.

“even better by me,” you giggle.

“good to know my rights as co-owner are intact.”

you laugh. “no, no, but truly, should we take it down?”

she pauses, eyes resting on her lap for a few moments. “no.” when she catches a glimpse of your triumphant grin, she rolls her eyes. “shut up.”

your laughter slowly melts away, and your eyes ponder on the tree with a soft smile. “did you ever… I don’t know, have any odd shit like that in your past places? something equivalent to our post-christmas christmas tree.”

“no, not really. I was never friends with my past roommates.”

“why not?” you know you’re shamelessly prying by asking this, but you can’t even bother to care. if learning more about her and her life is prying, then so be it. you need it.

“I don’t know. we were either just amicable. or, well…” she guiltily glances to you, shrugging, “I didn’t like them. or they didn’t like me.”

your eyebrows furrow. as a roommate, lee is great. she’s organized, consistent with chores, she keeps to herself and doesn’t hog any rooms, and she never touches your food, even when you’ve told her she can. “why would they dislike you?”

“my second year roommate thought I was rude. she, I don’t know, made a lot of comments about how I act and how… off-putting it is.” she sucks in a small, shaky breath, head turned away from you. she seems hesitant to offer such a piece of information, and your mind becomes consumed with the task of ensuring her that she can trust you.

“that’s not true, though. yeah, you’re quiet and all, but that doesn’t mean you’re an asshole. you just take time to open up, is all.”

“I suppose she disliked the fact that I never did open up to her, though. I wasn’t the most receptive.”

“why weren’t you?”

she pauses on the question, eyes scanning her lap. “I don’t know. it just felt off. and from what I saw, I knew she wasn’t someone I’d be friends with. so, I didn’t see the point.”

the words are blunt, bordering on harsh. but, lee manages to speak them in a way that’s so earnest and raw that you don’t even flinch. she doesn’t say them maliciously, with bitterness or snideness prickling the edges of the syllables. she’s simply a person who trusts her intuition and knows what she wants. in a way, she’s admirable. your initial surprise morphs into something akin to impressed respect.

“yeah, but, even if she took it rudely, it was up to her to discuss it with you – not just assume you’re some jackass. especially if you never even did anything outright rude.”

“maybe.” she shakes her head slightly. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” she adds, her voice sounding small. “I just knew we wouldn’t get along.”

you frown, waves of sympathy rolling in. “hey, and it really isn’t rude. you just didn’t want to waste her time or yours.” it was an unconventional approach to have taken, sure, and against societal niceties, which so much of the time were fake, anyways, but it was just the honest way to proceed – a tact that not many people relied on. 

“yeah, maybe. she, um…” her eyebrows draw in, and her voice tinges with vulnerable embarrassment, “once, in front of her friends, she said something about me being unfriendly.” the admission is said in a low, shame-filled voice. 

“hey,” you coo again, hand instinctively reaching to her shoulder, you chest nearly bursting when that part of her relaxes at the touch. shit. she actually eases at your touch. that’s new. and it’s so good. you force your mind to remain on the task at hand. “that is horrible. seriously. to say that in front of other people, and humiliate you like that –  that’s messed up. I’m so sorry.” the more you think on it, the more rage begins to pulse in you. how dare someone treat her that way? you can imagine how timid she must’ve felt in that moment, the discomfort that must’ve choked at her, being spoken to like that in front of strangers. she’s already closed-off and reserved enough as is, and it makes you livid to imagine how much this stupid roommate’s comment had increased her natural inclinations to stay away from others. “you didn’t deserve that, lee. really.”

weakly, she mumbles, “thanks.”

“please tell me you know that.”

“I don’t, not really,” she says, sighing. when you give her a narrowed look, she says, “but, I’ll try to see it more that way.”

“good. and, well, you know, I’ll be here, too. to remind you.” your eyes flick over her face, feeling the skin of yours warm up at your own tentative offer.

she finally gazes at you. “I know. thank you.”

she knows. she trusts you to give her that comfort. that’s more than enough for you.

–

lee relishes in the soft padding of the rain against the window as she flips through her reading, scribbling down notes at each paragraph, highlighting important terminology. the noise is a soothing one, making her feel like the edges of her mind are softening and lulling her into a smooth stream of work. she happily loses herself to it, growing more and more satisfied as she progresses.

in the middle of it, her pager beeps and she picks it up. it’s from you, and the message consists of the number of your address. it’s your guys’ way of confirming if the other is home. she punches in the numbers back, sending it to you. 

moments later, the phone rings. despite your message having hinted at a call, she still starts at the blaring noise. she stands from the desk in the living room, and reaches for the phone. “hello?” 

“hey.”

she breathes in deeply at the sound of your voice, something stuttering inside her. what is wrong with her? she’s heard your voice countless times. “hi.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll probably be home a bit later than five. the rain is getting kind of bad here, and I left my umbrella, so, yeah…”

she chews on her bottom lip, stomach stirring with worry. “are you okay?”

“yeah, yeah, I am. just don’t wanna get sick, so I’ll stay in the library till it ends. it’s okay, I’m okay.”

she nods at your reassurance. “okay. I’ll wait for you before eating.”

your following laughter makes her wonder if her words had been too revealing and needy. but, then, you say, “I’m glad,” and she sighs. she’s glad too, but to vocalize two such sentiments in a row feels like a lot.

when you both hang up, she seats herself back at the desk, continuing to do her work. two lines in, she stops, setting her pen down, listening attentively as the taps of rain harden. the more the rain pierces against the glass, the antsier she feels, shifting and picking at the spirals of her notebook. an idea swims in her head, one that had been present since you had notified her of your dilemma on the phone. but, she shouldn’t act on it. she has a lot of work. besides, she trusts you to be okay. you can handle yourself just fine, she knows you can. you waiting at the library, and returning home at a later time, is more than manageable for you. she knows this.

she lasts three minutes before standing up and retrieving the umbrella you had left on the counter. jesus, she’s losing herself.

when she reaches the campus library she knows you frequent, she slows in her steps at the sight of you sitting on the bench outside of it. you’re shielded by the roof, and your walkman is on, eyes languidly exploring the street shining with droplets. she sighs, coming to a full stop. you look… good. she blinks at the thought. you look more than good. you look, as uncomfortable as it is to admit, otherworldly, wrapped in your own private dream world, lost in the early spring day. what are you thinking of? do you like the rain? she wants to know these things with a desperation that catches her off guard.

and most of all, she wants to be near you.

she quietly approaches you, not knowing how to initiate conversation now that she’s here, having gone out of her way to do something for you. she supposes it’s not the first time she has, but this feels different. she can’t think of any clearcut reason for this moment, this gesture. you had required no support, no help. she’s simply here because she wants to make your evening easier and for you to be home sooner. the nonsensical reasoning makes it harder to know how to proceed socially.

you tip your head up in her direction, eyes widening at the sight of her. “lee?” 

she gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

your eyes flick to the umbrella. “did you come just to pick me up?”

she swallows hard. it’s interesting – how embarrassing it can be to just care. now that the impulsive seizing of the chance has been ridden out, and she’s facing you in the aftermath, she can’t help but feel the awkwardness of her own gesture. “um, yes.”

your cheeks lift and crinkle with a wide smile, and she bites her bottom lip at the sight, feeling her stomach turn. “lee, oh, my god, that’s so nice of you.”

she sighs, turning away. “it’s nothing.” raising the umbrella, she says, “let’s go. it’s cold.”

you two take the subway together, and as you walk home, she lets her eyes explore the surroundings of your guys’ neighbourhood. small, green buds have already started dotting the branches of the trees, and the sky is a dull, melancholic shade between blue and grey. the wind has lost enough of its itching chill that she’s gone back to her blue windbreaker, but still holds enough teeth to cause goosebumps to rise on her skin. she peers down at you and your short sleeves, frowning. “why are you wearing so little?”

“ah, slut-shaming me now, lee?”

she rolls her eyes, ignoring the joke. “it’s cold.”

“I know, I know, don’t scold me,” you practically whine, body racking with a shiver.

the small jolt of your body immediately sends her into motion, her next action complete, raw instinct. she silently pushes the umbrella into your fist, shrugging off her jacket when you clumsily catch the handle. 

“lee, lee, no, please, it’s okay,” you protest, your voice hooking onto a higher notch.

“mm,” she hums, awkwardly placing her jacket on your shoulders. her movements are stiff and she feels the flurry of unfamiliarity swirling in her stomach. this is a new kind of touch, one that feels strangely more intimate than her previous ones shared with you. it’s stupid, considering she’s laid her head in the crook between your shoulder and neck, has slept next to you, and has felt your arms hold her. but, this touch is the kind of typical thing you see in films, and it carries a distinctly romantic connotation. brushing her fingers on your shoulders, feeling your bare skin, encircling you from behind to drape the fragment of clothing on – it’s so close, but so fleeting, and she holds her breath for the moment it lasts. 

staring straight ahead, lee grabs the umbrella, resisting the urge to stretch her fingers out after having felt the dry texture of your skin. she inhales a sharp breath, eyes continuing to take in the buildings.

“thank you,” you murmur, and she gulps at the husk at your voice lowering, nodding wordlessly.

“so, how was your day?” you ask idly.

she tilts her head in your direction. “good. my new forensics professor is a really good speaker, and has a lot of knowledge on the topic.”

you beam. “oh, that’s great. better than your last one?”

“in terms of investment in the topic, yeah.” a small smile curls at her lips. “in terms of letting it slide if I miss an exam – let’s hope I don’t have to find out.”

“hey, do the cross just to be certain.”

she simpers, hand easily sliding into the gesture, years of practice refining the skill to perfection. it’s done out of humour, but the gesture still brings forward a burst of mixed emotions. to do such a gesture after months – it feels foreign as a movement. but, with it, comes a slew of memories of praying at church as a child, waiting for clarity abour herself as a teenager, and on what it was, who it was, she wanted. she doesn’t believe in her religion the way she once did, and her stance is that if there is a higher power, it’d be hard to know the facts about them. but, still, she sometimes sees something odd, hears about something miraculous, experiences something locking exactly into place, and she wonders if there’s a god behind it. and if there is, what if that god is ashamed of her? what if the fear she felt in high school was the right way to live, and everything she’s been doing since has been sin? the kind of sin her mother has fervently feared and despaired over ever since she was banished to their lonely, cold corner of the world, and the years of loneliness that ensued from this. when these thoughts occasionally come up, she tries to just ignore them. she’s worked so hard to get to where she is, and has gone through many back and forths. to be able to call herself a lesbian without shrivelling up is already an achievement for her. and she doesn’t want to go back to feeling like a sin.

at the same time, the movement of the cross isn’t unfamiliar. it’s estranged with how little she does it now, yes, but doing it feels akin to an estranged friend returning home. there’s a familiarity of it, tinged with the memory of doing the sign with her mom as a child, when her little hand would be held, and guided in which way to go. another memory is how lee would practice as a child, scared someone would judge her in the shadowed aisles of the church. the gesture carries history, even one she sometimes wants to forget. however, no matter what, it’s inexplicably tied to her mother and days of innocence. two things she can never let go of, and would never find in herself the ability to try in doing so.

you poke her arm. “c’mon, tell me more about the class. what do you like about it?”

she hesitates, but it seems you really want to hear, so she talks about it, going on an unintentional tangent regarding the information. it’s a course she’s already done, yes, but her new professor has sprinkled in so many details and facts that itch a part of her head in total satisfaction. and you listen attentively, asking why she likes this, and remarking on how cool a piece of information she offers is. it makes her warm with gratitude. 

you tell her about the projects initiated by the Gay and Lesbian Alliance group you’re a part of, such as an upcoming zine to mark the end of the year. lee listens as attentively as she can, nodding to your excited rambles. you hold so much passion, and to witness it is like basking under the warm heat of the sun. she twitches at the thought, the content of it a bit too poetic for what she’s accustomed to.

she also can’t help but feel appreciation for the community you’ve found, as well a glad you’ve secured it. she only has two close friends, and a handful of vague, or class-limited, companions, and rare and far inbetween have any of them been gay. in high school, it was nearly non-existent. not even in her school, but in her town. for a long time as a teenager, it had felt like she was the only person who knew what it was to feel those things. now, especially when attending a university that has an organization centered on people like her, she knows that’s not true. but, sometimes, just sometimes, she wonders what it’s like to be surrounded by people who she doesn’t need to describe her experiences to, who silently understand her. she wonders if such community would help in killing the last remaining bits of shame lingering in her, which are always aroused whenever she visits her house.

maybe some day.

when a car whirls by, spraying water in your guys’ direction, she mutters, “here, come here,” smoothly changing your places so that she’s walking closest to the edge of the road.

“no,” you nearly whine, tone complaining. “you already gave me the jacket, and how you’re also on the sacrificial side of the road?”

“‘sacrificial side’ is a tad dramatic.”

“no, no, not when you’re liable to getting sick.”

she shrugs. “no more than anyone else.”

“um, that is not true. you are definitely more liable when you’re skipping meals and up at odd hours of the night.”

she rolls her eyes, embarrassment creeping through her. of course you pick up on all of that. she can’t tell if the gentle scolding is something she likes, or something that makes her want to crawl into a hole. maybe both. after all, she so rarely lets herself be the subject of affection, so the experience of it, especially from you, is one that has her touched and wanting more of. at the same time, it’s mildly humiliating that the person she likes is aware of all her flawed habits. “it’s not that bad.”

“yeah, okay,” you scoff, tugging on her wrist. “come back to the other side.”

“no, just stay–”

“no, no, we each get something, then–”

in your tugging and her pulling, the umbrella drops to the ground, and lee immediately stiffens and winces at the sensation of the april showers soaking into her hair. you instinctively cover yourself with her jacket, your shirt underneath clinging to every curve and dip of your body. despite the cold, wet stickiness of her shirt clinging to her, she can’t help but quietly watch the sight, something stirring in her. you look good. really good. she feels her breaths get heavier. if you were hers, she could take you back to the apartment, and undress you, worship your body, warm it with her own, and kiss every one of those spots, over and–

she gulps down hard, averting her eyes. she distracts herself by picking up the umbrella, lifting it over you two. you’re laughing at the moment, hair soaked, eyes crinkled, and she bites back a smile. “stop. it’s not funny,” she gently chides.

“it is – just a bit,” you giggle. 

she shakes her head, a smile cracking through. “less than a bit. don’t get too ahead of yourself. you’re the one with the jacket, after all.”

“oh, yes, you poor thing, how could I be so inconsiderate?” you drawl in a mocking tone. “let’s get you home right away.” you don’t wait for her, continuing on your way home.

and she follows. like she probably always will.

when you two reach the apartment, and you take a good look at her beyond the chaos of the rain, your eyes widen. “oh, my god, lee, you’re drenched! go, go shower right now.”

before she can even process the words, your hands are on her back, pushing her in the direction of the bathroom. “but, my clothes…”

“I’ll get them, you just go shower.” your eyebrows are furrowed, mouth pinching down, and she wants so badly to brush her thumb over it and make it better. “where are they?”

she hesitates. she usually doesn’t like people entering her room on their own, and knowing this would be your first time doing it makes her a bit uneasy. but, it’s not because she doesn’t trust you – which is the reason she often dislikes the notion, paired with her privacy. it just feels a bit exposing. but, she wants you to know she trusts you, so she nods, and quietly confirms, “second drawer has my home clothes. third has… my intimates.” her voice lowers for the last words, feeling her face heat up.

you chuckle. “noted. I’ll hang it on the handle.”

she nods, shutting the door with a soft click. when she hears your footsteps quickly pad away, her forehead leans on the surface. god, what if you think her underwear is weird?

–

you burst into her room, again momentarily caught off guard by the meticulous cleanliness and lack of objects. as you step to her dresser, movements fast, you smile at the sight of a book on her bed, the remaining pages very few based on her bookmark’s placement. The Power of Myth. the book you got for her birthday. you will your mind to focus and whip around to the dresser.

in the flurry of rushing for lee, guilt gnawing at you for partially being the reason she’s now drenched, your movements work too fast for your brain and you open her first drawer, eyes scanning for her clothes. when the contents reveal themselves to your gaze, you suck in a sharp breath, reeling back with an abrupt, shaky step.

fuck. it’s a dildo and harness.

your stomach is a tornado of flutters and flips, and you feel almost light-headed at the onslaught of sensations. you gulp down nervously, and take one more peek into the drawer. after a moment, the guilt of snooping invades your senses, and you push the drawer shut with a loud bang. what the fuck is wrong with you?

with hands that feel lighter than usual, you tug her second drawer, and pick out sweats and the red sweater you sometimes see her in. you open the third drawer, and swallow down at the stack of plain bras, and comfortable, unpatterned underwear. she even has some men’s underwear, plain shorts-shaped underpants. you feel an embarrassing, feral, flustered sort of heat at knowing what she wears under all those modest clothes. 

☆

god, you sound like an absolute fucking pervert. you cringe, selecting a pair of grey underwear and closing the drawer with a heavy breath. you walk to the bathroom, neatly tucking them into the outside handle, trying not to rattle it too much, feeling almost as though she can sense the lust and shame through the door. you pause, listening to the shower run. without warning, images flash into your head of what she must look like, naked and wet, lean, gentle body coated in shining drops. fuck. you clench on nothing, backing away and to the living room.

your mind is swirling with thoughts. why does lee have the dildo? okay, well, that’s a stupid question. obviously, she’s using it for something – she didn’t buy it to study the damn thing. though, that does sound like an oddly lee-esque thing to do. your mind skitters with the possibilities. lee has always seemed so solitary that it was difficult to imagine her having an active sex life. of course, you had wondered about and considered it before, and you knew it was a possibility. but, this confirmed it more than anything. 

although, you suppose it could be something she doesn’t use on other people frequently, a thought that relieves you temporarily. because, truly? the idea of her frequently using it on different people makes something sink its claws into your gut – jealousy and childish anger. the notion of her using it on one specific person makes you feel even fucking worse. casual hookup, friend, girlfriend – you don’t care. you don’t want her to make love to someone else, especially someone who she wants enough to go back to, whether it be due to intimacy, an emotional connection or just good sexual chemistry. you don’t want her sinking it into anyone but you. 

it’s not the first time you’ve had such a thought. your feelings for lee have stirred and expanded like a lovely, permanent stain on a couch for nearly a half-year now. of course you’ve had the thought of what it’d be like to be hers, to be the person she carries on her arm, the one she kisses goodnight. of course you’ve thought, even fleetingly, about how she’d make love to you. but, the possibility of her potentially being with someone else – having a girlfriend, having someone who she might be going back to for sex and growing closer to – finally rearing its ugly head, and for the first time in a very grounded, very possible form of evidence, makes you squirm in what can only be described as devastated rage.

maybe it’s just something she’s saved from a past relationship, and is waiting to use on a future partner. but, why would she keep it in such an easily accessible spot? maybe she uses the dildo on herself. god, now that is a mental image that sends your body shifting on the couch. lee on her back, bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead, eyebrows scrunched in focus, lids wedged shut in pleasure, pushing that dildo in and out, set on pleasuring herself after a long day. god, does she use it when you’re out of the dorm? is she on the receiving end when or if she uses it with other people? at that last thought, the low burning embers of arousal are now washed out with ice-cold water. 

you still, focusing on the sounds ringing through the apartment. the shower is still on. feeling rather relieved at not having to face her yet, you sink into the soft cushions, head lolling back onto the edge. god, lee…

she’d probably be so patient pushing it in, just taking her time until it’s fully sheathed in your pussy, pushing your walls apart and filling your hole till it’s flush with the silicone material. maybe she’d hold your thighs apart, observant eyes drinking in the sight. or perhaps her shy, awkward nature would have her burying her face in your neck, holding you close and breathing you in as her hips thrust in and out slowly. you grind down on the couch without thinking, feeling yourself begin to grow sensitive. how else would lee have sex? would she relish sliding her fingers into your wet heat, letting the long size of them stretch you open? would that little satisfied grin she sometimes gets rest on her face as she watches you squirm and shiver? 

you freeze at the noise of the door creaking open before shutting again. she probably opened it to get her clothes. images flash in your head of a very soaked and wanting lee, pushing your back against the tiled wall as she pounds into you, soft lips skimming the skin of your neck. you rub your thighs together, feeling your center ache and dampen.

☆

when the door opens again, and you hear lee head into her room, you force yourself to sit still. you try to think of something else, but your thoughts keep straying. it’s impressive, in all honesty, that she has one. you remember being in high school, and hearing your peers’ debates regarding if the use of dildos was too phallic-centered for feminists, and if using sex toys was a betrayal of the cause. the sex wars were all you guys spoke about for a long time – reading articles and engaging in long talks about the dissections regarding ethics and what was considered sex that did or didn’t align with feminism. for a long time, you had been overwhelmed and conflicted with all the ideas. now, you know better. not every penis is aligned with, or even remotely related to, heterosexuality or being a man. not every phallic-object is either, and there’s nothing shameful in taking pleasure in it. it’s relieving in a way, to know lee probably feels the same way. after all, you still knew some people in your feminism class who avoided sex toys. despite being involved in the same movement, you're very much on an opposing side there -- clearly, considering your reaction to lee's toy.

when she walks out in her fuzzy, red sweater, brown hair lying damp along her back, bangs combed back, you curl into the couch, praying to some invisible force that her observant eyes won’t catch any telltale signs of where your thoughts had been. she glances at you, and you look away. relaxed, fresh from a shower and barefoot – she’s the picture of casual domesticity, and you gulp as she brings a glass of water to the couch, sitting on the other side. 

she nods at you. “you should shower too.”

“mhm, yeah, in a sec.” you pause, a deep ache in you yearning for some answers. you know it’s forward of you, too forward of you, to pry into lee’s love life. but, you’re desperate to know, for the fear of her being with someone else, or just as bad, wanting someone else, gnaws at you like a bitter virus. “lee, can I ask something?”

she tenses up. “okay.” 

“I was just wondering because, you know, you haven’t mentioned it before, so I just got curious…” you force yourself to continue, ignoring the whirling butterflies in your stomach almost triggering a nausea in you. “do you, um – are you dating? like, anyone?”

her eyes immediately widen, blinks alert and intense. “why are you asking me this?”

damn her curiosity. “I’m just wondering. we never spoke of it, you know.”

she sips her water slowly, as though the question demands caution. that scares you, and you hold your breath in anticipation. finally, she mutters, “no, I’m not dating anyone.” 

you nearly release a sigh of relief, pinching your lips together to keep it trapped inside. still, there’s one more inquiry drawing a finger of temptation along your throat. “but, um, do you want to? date anyone?”

her dark eyebrows, soft and striking, draw in and crease her forehead. “are you asking if I… like someone? or if I generally want to date?”

you pause, not even certain of which you desire to know. both are important, despite having initially meant the former option. you swallow hard, trying to force the tone of your voice to be casual and light-hearted. “well, you can answer both.”

she sighs, the noise short and sharp. you hope you’re not annoying her, the idea of such a thing sending a wave of insecurity rolling through you. but, still, you remain silent, needing an answer.

“I’m, uh, open to dating if it’s the right person. but, it’s not something I’m actively pursuing.”

“like, you’re not actively pursuing someone, or the very concept of dating?”

she looks at you, puzzled. “I don’t understand. what do you mean by ‘the concept of dating’?”

you suck in a heavy breath, starting to feel frustration build up. “I mean, do you mean you’re just not actively pursuing anyone right now, or are you also not actively pursuing dating in general – blind dates, set-ups, that kind of stuff?”

“oh.” she shakes her head. “I’m doing neither.”

your shoulders slump, unable to tell if you’re relieved, or conflicted even further. if she isn’t actively pursuing a specific person or dating, then that means she’s not committed to anyone – and perhaps that she doesn’t have her heart set on a singular person. but, her vagueness and lack of answer for whether or not she likes someone begs the question of if she really does want someone. which, in turn, would make any pursuit of her from your side fruitless. but, you can’t find it in yourself to pry more. she already seems uneasy with the line of questioning, and you yourself don’t know how you’d proceed with any answer she has to give. if she says yes, she does like someone, you deal with the gruelling clash of wishing it’s you, not knowing if it’s you, and dealing with the sour possibility of it being someone else. if she says no, there’s the relief that her eyes are reserved for no one, but then, does that mean she doesn’t see you in that way? of course, you have wished for her to like you back, and have pondered on the possibility. so, if her answer no means the latter, does that mean you have no chance? that you ought to give up? no. asking her directly would be too tumultuous, too confusing. 

“are you… dating anyone?” she asks, her voice small. you wish it could be because she doesn’t want you dating anyone – but, it could just as much be because it’s a vulnerable topic and lee is, well, lee. you try to ground yourself through these little pockets of hope that open for you.

still, you’re eager to make it known that you’re extremely single. “I’m not.” after a pause, you can’t resist asking, “why?”

lee shrugs, eyes trained on the ground. “you asked me, so I just thought of it.”

you sigh quietly. could she be any less interested? you feel petulant suddenly, wanting to remain silent until she finally admits something, anything. but, maybe, there really isn’t anything for her to admit. maybe she isn’t interested. you’ve known this the entire time that she might not be. you’ve pointedly reminded yourself of it when getting too lost in your daydreams, and too tightly gripped by the conviction that maybe she returns your feelings. the possibility of her not seeing you in that way always strikes a deep, burning sting into your mind. still, it’s not her fault. and summer is fast approaching, as is the end of your guys’ lease. if you’re going to be losing her in this close, intimate way, inevitably so, you’d rather the loss not occur early due to your own childish irritation and stubbornness rooted in your feelings.

and, so, you talk. but, you cannot find it in yourself to completely move on from this topic, not when you’ve managed to bridge the awkwardness in approaching it and may not have the nerve to do so again in the future. “you said you would date if you found someone right, right? what does – well, what makes someone right for you?”

her lips tighten together, forehead’s lines deepening as she momentarily ponders the question. “I just want understanding, is all.”

you cock your head. “what do you mean?”

“I don’t need… something, you know, really grand. someone right would just be someone who knows and accepts me. someone who understands, and who I feel comfortable with understanding me.”

the admission is tenderly spoken, her voice low and hushed, a sweet blush to her cheeks. her jaw is clenched, revealing the tension she feels at such a topic. but, her words, like always, are honest and pure. it makes sense. she’s someone who takes so much time to open herself up, someone whose every, miniscule layer counts for something as it’s pushed away to reveal her true self. she wants someone who knows her beyond those reservations, who knows and sees her for who she is. someone who has the patience to travel through the outward impressions until they know her through and through, and who will embrace the parts of her she chooses to trust them with. with someone as private and solitary as her, it makes sense that the person she wants to love is the person she doesn’t have to explain herself to. does she feel that way with you?

you grow curious as your mind wanders to her lack of lovey-dovey language. it’s lee, so it’s not surprising that her language is so somber and objective. but, you want to dig into her brain a bit more, see what she thinks of romance, soulmates, love – the whole lot of it. you’re sure your feelings for her are also instigating the burning itch to know more, but it’s also the fact that lee never seems to talk much about this stuff. up until this point, she’s seemed totally indifferent to romance, and it makes you long to know more. “but, love? what about love?” does she maybe not care about that? does she only want companionship, but without all the heavy emotions?

“for me, what I described and… love are the same thing.” she sucks in a sharp breath through her nose, then moves her head up, eyes suddenly latched onto you with unwavering focus. “it’s what lasts longest.”

“past all the passion and heat?”

she clears her throat, eyes darting away. “yeah.” after a moment, she asks, voice tentative, “what do you look for?” she watches you carefully, sharply, from the corner of her eye.

you hesitate. what do you look for? it’s not like you have zero experience, you’ve definitely had your fair share of getting-to-know-you stages and dating. but, it almost feels like those past experiences, rather than leave you sated in singlehood, have only increased your want of something new. your conception of love, and learning what it is and isn’t, has been a winding, directionless journey for years. from fleeting, mind-consuming, temporary infatuation, to heartbreaking obsessions, to mild attraction in what was better off as a friendship – you’ve experienced a range of it all. a share of good experiences, but definitely a lot you would’ve forgone if it hadn’t served a lesson. it’s made you tired and worn, and scared to try again, but you’ve always known that as soon as affection and its power worms its way into you, the doubts you have pale in comparison. perhaps you’re young enough that your past experiences, and their eventual failures, haven’t totally crushed your hopes. in fact, they’ve just made you overly eager for something that’ll last, something that’ll feel completely right this time.

“well…” you shuffle in your seat, suddenly on edge with the weighty question and her complete silence. “I guess my answer is a bit different than yours. I’ve had good experiences, for sure, but also a lot of mediocre ones. and I guess after having experienced heartache more than once, I just have even more of a, like, longing for something that’s really romantic and long-lasting. like, the mediocrity and breakups have only made me crave something that’s both right and will be forever – even more.”

“so, you’d like something special?”

you can’t help but smile. special is exactly what you need. “yeah.” 

“and long-lasting?”

your eyebrows furrow. “uh, yeah? why?”

her voice is so quiet, continuing to drink her water. “just asking.”

in the silence that follows, you feel the need to explain yourself further, just so she doesn’t feel put off by your answer, in case she, well – you push away the possibility. “I’ve just had experiences that have all ended.” you huff out a humoured scoff, realizing how badly you’re stating the obvious. “I just mean, well, I’d like to not go through heartbreak again, so I want a relationship that feels right when I enter it. you know, no doubts. the other stuff is just me being tired of things ending or not feeling right, and just wishing for something that could be romantic, right and also just last long.” as you keep speaking, your tone shifts to one that’s more heightened in both passion and frustration, hand gestures flailing.

lee’s nostrils flare, and a muffled laugh leaves her mouth. “yes, I can tell.”

you roll your eyes. “you know what I mean.”

her smile softens before melting away. “yeah. I do.” her head angles in your direction. “you deserve it.”

you swallow, feeling your legs tingle from the anticipation of her saying something like that. “you do too.”

she hums, and that’s that.

–

when lee decides to accompany you to a party on a friday night, she truly wonders what’s become of her. you two aren’t even dating, and she’s practically putty in your hands. when you had asked her about attending a party hosted by a friend who had in last semester’s mythology class, you did it with a laugh, and she knew it was because you expected her to give a resounding no. your head had snapped in her direction when she muttered a quiet “sure,” eyes wide. at first, she herself wasn’t even sure why she said “yes.”. all she knew was that you were going to be somewhere, so she’d rather be there than at home by herself. jesus, what a weird thing to feel.

maria practically burst into laughter when lee called her to confirm her attendance, and after she joked about how amaya would have a field day, lee rolled her eyes and hung up. It’s been so long since she last felt this way, and frankly, she had forgotten just how humiliating it is for her friends to see her in such a state.

on the subway ride there, you plug both yours and her headphones into your walkman, an offer of sharing music that she quietly accepts. you two sit like that, side by side, in the rumbling movements of the subway, silently listening to SWV together. other than the initial tension she feels at listening to something as romantic as Weak with you, it’s rare for her to feel so comfortable like this, so at ease with sharing a lack of words with someone else. she often won’t instigate a conversation if she doesn’t need to, but she will be cognizant of the way the other person might be reacting to the silence, and that, in turn, makes her feel uncomfortable too. it’s always just been easier to be alone than to have to grapple with the subtle and inescapable expectations of interacting. it always takes a while before she can truly feel comfortable sharing the emptiness of a space with someone, even longer to totally stop worrying. but, she’s at that place with you now. and you’re there with her, too. she can feel it, in the way you slump next to her, shoulder brushing hers, and in how your head leans back on the seat, eyes wandering along the cart. she wants to ask you what you’re thinking of, but she doesn’t want to interrupt this moment.

when you two reach the party, she sighs in relief at the sight of it less packed than the one she had attended in october. still, her mind scans her surroundings as soon as you both enter, trying to gauge just how many people are present and how stifling it may be.

in the middle of this, she feels your hand, warm and soft, slide into hers. her stomach tightens at the sensation, and she breathes in a shuddering inhale. she knows why you’re doing it, and the knowledge of that makes her feel only more exposed and pulled at the seams for you to stare upon. she wonders if anyone looking this way suspects that the two of you are a couple. a pleasurable tingle simmers in her stomach at the thought. images flash in her mind of you guys dating, and this sort of hand-holding being expected everyday, on every walk. it’s a nice thought, and she grinds her teeth together at the aching longing she feels inside. she can’t help but admit just how good it feels to think of having you in that way. but, she knows she shouldn’t become hopeful. not when she has no intention of pursuing you.

when you two start moving through a narrow hallway, making your way to the living room, people crowding in, she grips your hand harder and gratitude floods her chest when you return the squeeze. 

her eyebrows suddenly furrow, eyes darting to your interlocked hands. when had she stopped tensing at your touch? her mind searches for the moment, but she cannot place it. the realization makes her equals parts awed, surprised and uncomfortable. it has been that gradual, she supposes. her hand flexes in yours. how did you do this?

as you two approach the fireplace, she tenses up at the sight of maria and amaya, prematurely cringing at the earful they’re going to give her at this sight. her suspicions are confirmed when she catches the eye of maria, who smiles at her, then, after glancing towards your interlocked hands, whispers to amaya, who’s suddenly alert, very obviously seeking you both out.

when you guys move close, lee’s lips firmly press down, sending her friends a sharp look that she hopes shuts them up. 

of course it doesn’t. “hi, mr. and mrs. lee harker,” amaya drawls out, her pink cheeks clearly indicating how tipsy she is. lee’s eyes flutter in exasperation as maria whacks amaya's arm. why couldn’t have two extremely awkward people have adopted her into their group? why did it have to be amaya and maria?

she glances at you warily, immediately taking note of how embarrassed you are, your laughter trembling more than usual and quiet in volume, eyes flicking along the room. protectiveness immediately kicks in, and she says, “we’re fine,” not wanting to bring more attention to their teasing.

your hand suddenly flinches in hers, and a surge of anxiety pulls through her gut. was that the wrong thing for her to say?

amaya seems to notice lee’s tension, for she pats your arm down, saying, “sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“no, no, don’t worry, I know,” you respond, nodding, though lee notices that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. her mind whirls with possibilities. are you upset that such a joke was made? do you feel uncomfortable? are you upset with her for not correcting them? did lee assume wrong in believing you were fully public about your sexuality? she feels her chest begin to get heavier. 

“here, come,” maria cuts in, waving you both over. “let’s play beer pong.”

as you two walk behind maria and amaya, lee’s breaths feeling shorter and more shallow, you turn to her suddenly. “hey, you okay? I can feel your pulse.”

she gulps down, self-consciousness pushing her to release your hand. it surprises her just how wrong it feels to do so, the feeling becoming more apparent when your eyebrows draw together. in her state of unrest, she can’t tell if it’s confusion, hurt or anger. jesus, this is exactly what she feared. that her feelings would make things unsettled between you two, and shatter the total comfort it had taken months to achieve in your friendship.

at your lack of response, you move closer, and she steps back. “I– lee, what’s wrong?”

your eyes, wide and focused on her, make her feel cowardice, and she looks away. she takes a few moments to collect herself. she doesn’t want to confide in you about a worry so small, so miniscule, and so meaningful in its relation to you. but, she knows if she chooses to start dismissing and hiding her feelings with you, it could very much just become the start to a chain of similar events. this instinct, this automatic kick to hide what she’s feeling – that’s what’s natural to her, that’s the reflex she’s leaned into all her life. returning to it could prove itself as all too easy of an occurrence, and who knows how long it would take to undo that? she doesn’t want that to happen. her nose makes a scratchy noise as she sharply breathes through it, and with that, she says, “I just– are you uncomfortable? because of what amaya said?”

she watches the way your throat moves as you swallow. after a moment, you shake your head softly. “no, of course not. I felt a bit… shy, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

she nods tightly, the relief overwhelming her in a long wave of lightness. 

“is that what you were nervous about?”

she stares at your docs, and silently tilts her head in the affirmative. 

“lee, even if I was uncomfortable, I’d never take that out on you, you know? you didn’t make the joke. but, besides that, I wasn’t uncomfortable or upset or anything, okay? just a bit… shy, is all.” it seems to take some effort on your end to say those last words, and she hopes it’s not because you’re downplaying the weight of your feelings. but, you said you weren’t uncomfortable or upset, and she doesn’t know how to proceed other than accepting your words. 

“okay?” 

she glances up at you, shifting under the heaviness of your attentive gaze. “I’m okay.” and it’s true. your assurance has helped ease her breath, and other than the discomfort she feels at the crowd of the room, her body is steady. 

“okay, now, let’s go play beer pong,” you drawl with a grin, tugging her by her arm. she wants to ask you to hold her hand again, but she resists, knowing it’s too forward.

though it takes a ridiculously long amount of time to convince the already drunk host to let lee play due to her abstinence from alcohol, despite her telling you, amaya and maria that she really doesn’t care, she finally is at the edge of the table, ball poised in her hand. she suddenly feels like she’s in high school again, the pressure of watchful eyes assessing her athletic ability making her tense. the fact that you’re there, on the other side of the table, cheeks lifted in bright grin, doesn’t help whatsoever. she supposes most people would feel supported, but your unwavering gaze only makes her feel even more unnerved. just like she did in high school, she focuses her attention to the task at hand, eyes skimming along the open gaps of the cups before lightly tossing the ball into one. when she gets it in, the host, derek, amaya said his name is, whistles. 

she ends up being the only one on her team to get every ball into the other team’s cup, which in all honesty, is probably because she’s sober. you miss two of your five shots, but even in those moments, lee twists her mouth to resist smiling, shy at the idea of being so plain in her affection for anyone to see. though, perhaps she speaks too soon, for as soon as she spots derek laying a friendly hand on your shoulder, she feels her jaw clench. she forces herself to look away. you’re not hers, you’re not someone who it makes sense to be possessive over. she has no right to. despite repeating this to herself, her stomach burns at the sight of derek continuing to keep a hand to your back as you guys play.

luckily, you slide from his touch when your eyes catch the sight of the girl lee met in your feminism class. you run over to her, swinging your arms around her. it should help, but it really does nothing to quell the simmering envy in lee’s stomach. she wishes she could touch you so easily, and vice versa. she knows it doesn’t make sense – you probably hesitate to touch her sometimes because you know her aversion to it, but she can’t help but irrationally wish you’d forgo all the consideration. see, this is why crushes are so anxiety-inducing to her – they make the sensibilities she always depends on wane for more personal pursuits and fulfillment.

she’s shaken out of her thoughts when your friend beckons everyone to the ground. “everyone, get into a circle! let’s do spin the bottle.” at her side, you’re grabbing her arm, fervently shaking your head, but she drags you to the ground next to her.

lee grits her teeth. great. 

“if it lands on you,” amaya whispers as the bottle swivels around, “just say you don’t want to kiss anyone. besides, I’ve played this game where people fucked if the bottle landed on them – this is nothing.”

“cold comfort,” lee whispers, pointedly staring at her.

she watches in a complete lack of amusement as the bottle lands from person to person, instigating a range of pecks to make out sessions. not that she knows from watching, she can just tell based on the time it takes and the noises. she simply stares at her lap when a kiss occurs, too uncomfortable to invade on such an intimate moment. not that there’s much to invade on, considering how many of them were encircled on the carpet of derek’s shared house. at least fifteen, while the rest of the guests mingle on every floor, playing games or taking shots together.

everytime the bottle blends into a blur from how fast it turns around, lee freezes. she’s afraid of it landing on her, but terrified it’ll land on you. if it does, she isn’t sure how well she’ll be able to control her body’s show of discomfort. she might just have to excuse herself to the bathroom. yes, that’s what she’ll do. 

when amaya and some other girl kiss, lee nearly leaves prematurely when one of derek’s friends wolf-whistle. she chooses a spot on the carpet to hone her gaze in on, and tries to reign in her annoyance. idiots. from her experience, the men who are most eager to watch any form of intimacy between women are the same ones who find it unbelievable that a woman’s attraction may not include them. they existed in high school, and they still do in university, it seems. she looks up at you, wondering if you’re thinking the same, blinking in surprise when you’re already watching her. when the two of you lock eyes, you playfully roll yours, and her lips fold into a forced smile. even in this moment, her stomach can’t handle looking at you, knowing what might come. she wishes she had just stayed at home tonight.

of course, the bottle eventually lands on you. she tears her eyes from you, choosing to focus on the feel of amaya’s hand softly rubbing her back, mentally choosing which words she’ll use to excuse herself. she leans into amaya’s ear, whispering, “I’m going.”

“um, I don’t think you can.”

lee glances at her in confusion, then moves her eyes to the bottle, nearly closing them in equal parts relief and aggravation when she realizes where it’s pointed, her stomach dropping so hard she feels light-headed for a second. jesus christ. 

derek chortles, clapping his friend’s back. “is there a lesbian goddess looking down on us or something?”

“yeah, it’s telling you to go fuck yourself,” maria sharply says, glaring at him. “stop with the fetishizing.”

derek raises his hands. “it was a joke, relax. jesus. can’t say anything these days.”

“lee?” amaya tentatively asks, her hand on lee’s back stilling.

lee glances to her friend’s thigh, shoulders heaving as she takes in a deep breath. she knows she needs to look at you, to see what you’re thinking, what you want – even if she already knows what her decision will be. her gaze slowly roves past your form before carefully landing on your face. your eyes are wide, lips parted and quivering, staring at her in clear nervousness. and what might be expectancy.

she swallows hard, piercing, relentless anxiety plummeting down to her abdomen. she doesn’t know what you want from her, and even if she did, she doesn’t know what your reasons are. but, it doesn’t really matter, because she knows she’s not comfortable with this. part of her is tensing with the curiosity and desire to kiss you. to let the intimacy that’s taken months to grow between you two progress even more, to feel the softness of your mouth. but, she can’t. not when it might mean nothing to you. not in front of all these people. 

and so, she shakes her head. “no.” 

“awe, c’mon, don’t be like that–” derek’s friend coos. 

“I said no,” she firmly repeats, staring at her hands. she can’t bear to look at you. what if you see it on her face? what will she see on yours?

“why not?” the question comes from the friend she met in your feminism class.

irritation springs in her. why can’t anyone just respect her answer? “because I don’t want to.”

she realizes how it comes off moments after saying it, especially when silence rings in the group. she can’t bear to look at you, fear gripping tightly at her. what if she’s hurt you? the pressing need to know overpowers the sense of alarm she feels. she looks up, nearly flinching back when she sees your mouth curved tightly, eyes cast down, hands wringing together. when you meet her gaze, your eyes are bouncing around, not remaining on her for more than a second at a time. you can’t even meet her eyes. she doesn’t know if this is due to embarrassment, shame or pity. she’s not sure she wants to know.

she lasts two more rounds, before excusing herself quietly and leaving.

on the porch, she lights a cigarette, wanting nothing more than to escape this party and lock herself in the refuge of her bedroom. how did things go downhill so fast? she wants to go back in, and tell you how she doesn’t dislike the idea of kissing you, not at all, and that she’d kiss away every frown that makes it onto your face if she only had the courage to take a risk. but, there’s too many people inside, too many eyes that’d be trained onto her as she approaches you. and who is she kidding? even in privacy, she could never say those words.

five minutes later, she guesses, she hears the screen door open, and she knows from the silhouette it’s you. her head tilts in your direction, taking a slow drag. “game finished?”

“no. I just needed a break. and I…” she hears your pause, the sentence hanging in the air, “... wanted to check if you were okay. those guys were being dicks.”

she screws her eyes shut. you’re still so nice to her, even after she said something that might have embarrassed you, and that definitely caused awkwardness. she wonders if there’ll ever be an end to the gentleness you distribute to her. “they were.” saying it out loud, remembering their obnoxiousness, sparks another dose of anger in her. so entitled they were, to seeing whatever forms of affection they felt content to turn into their own plaything. the kind of guys who are content with only accepting lesbianism in dosages that are self-satisfying to them. anything that doesn’t have to do with the permanent removal of them. anything that they feel can be put away in a neat box after their temporary engagement with it. almost as though it’s so incomprehensible for attraction to exist separate from men that they always need to be involved in some way, even as a voyeur.

“lee?” 

she snaps out of her impassioned, internal tangent, eyes flicking to you. the moonlight coats your face in blue light, and she’s suddenly struck with the thought of: I should have kissed you. but, as soon as it runs its course, she looks away, knowing she’d never have had the nerve, or sense of ease, to have done such a thing. 

“are you upset?” she mutters.

“no.” you pause. “why would I be?”

you both know why. she wishes you could just bring it up directly instead of tossing around vague questions. now, it’s on her to bring it up and address what’s going on. but, then again, how many times have you done that for her? is it really so unfair that she should now? her eyes trace the nearly-bare trees, lined with the sprouts of small, green leaves, which shine as emerald in the darkness. “because I didn’t do what the game asked of me.”

“well, I–I was upset, at first.” 

she flinches. she always knew it would, but it feels terribly hollow to know you are, or were, upset with her.

“but,” you continue, voice riding on the smooth whistle of the wind, “I know that’s not fair. you’re more than allowed to not want to kiss me – or, or anyone.”

she nods. she knows this already. “then, why were you upset?” she supposes it’s because of how embarrassing it might’ve been to not be kissed in front of others, to have it publicly declared that someone doesn’t want to kiss you. she nearly winces at the memory of her words, wishing she had chosen more carefully.

“um, because…” she hears your fingers rasp on the railing she’s leaning on. “I felt kind of, like, insecure? I don’t know. I mean, did you not want to because, like, there’s something wrong with me?”

her head darts up, shoulders stiff and nearly strained in tension. a small groan rumbles in her throat. “no. not at all.” god, something being wrong with you is the absolute last thing on her mind. and it’s one of the least likely reasons she’d ever refrain from kissing you. she’s sure there are some things flawed about you, there are with everyone. but, that’s no reason she’d ever decide to avoid or postpone anything with you. she’s ready to accept you. “that’s not the reason,” she whispers.

she can hear your breaths becoming shaky, unsteady. “then, why?”

she squeezes her eyes shut, debating on what to say. she doesn’t want to lie, but the fear of how you’ll perceive her honest answer gnaws at her. 

finally, she shakes her head. she wants, so badly, to reassure you in this moment and make it clear just how, well, not wrong of a person you are. even if it means you catch wind of her feelings, she can deal with that later. if amaya was here, she’d tell lee to do the romantic thing, to say something wholly honest. to admit, something, anything, that sheds a bit more light onto her feelings. lee doesn’t think she’s quite ready for that, but she’ll tiptoe on the precipice of it if it means making you feel better.

“I didn’t want to kiss you in front of all those people. because…” she pauses, thinking on how to ensure you it has nothing to do with you as a person. she straightens up, turning to your wide, curious eyes. “because if I kiss you, I don’t want it to be in front of an audience.” even the mere words I kiss you have her mouth tasting different. it feels like a reverent trifecta of words, like some sort of prayer. 

she gulps down, needles of worry poking her insides at your silence. she shifts her body away, and watches the grass on the lawn, wet with the afternoon’s rain, the deep breaths of cigarette smoke soothing her slightly. and she waits.

–

and you still your breathing in shock. if she fucking kisses you? if? as in that’s a possibility? the idea that that’s what she means feels too far-fetched and too good to be true. if this was someone else, you could convince yourself that those words just slipped it out without them thinking or realizing. but, lee always proceeds with caution. she pauses before talking, she speaks calmly. if she says something, she means it. so, if she means this, then what does that indicate? that kissing you is a possibility? it’s something she has thought of before? or does she just mean that in some completely hypothetical, alternate universe where she’s aligned to very specific feelings, then she wouldn’t kiss you in front of others?

you watch her as she continues to lean along the railing, elbows propped onto it and eyes observing her surroundings, grey smoke whirling around her as she exhales the smoke. she looks beautiful, and you want her so bad. you want to ask more, but you’re scared. scared her answer will prove of her indifference to you, and you’ll be forced to figure out how to abandon these long active, aflame feelings. if anything, you’d prefer to swim in these feelings then submerge only when forced to, like if you’ve done nothing to pursue her by the time the lease is up, and then, you both part ways, and you’re forced to endure the heartache. the idea is a sour one that causes a swell of pain in you, like some internal bruise. but, what could you do other than that? confess to her like some nervous high schooler? try to subtly pursue her with flirtation and gestures? even if you did that last option, you doubt it’d give you answers. you can’t see lee confidently flirting back in such instances, and she might not even register your words as flirting. and confessing… it can so easily cause damage to what you guys have and your own heart.

for so long, you’ve been content to carry these feelings for her, but not act on them. but, a culmination of things – the semester approaching its end in just a matter of three months, the jaunting reality check of realizing the chances of her dating and being with someone else, and her saying this kind of stuff – is starting to make you itch for more than a friendship. the idea of not even trying to seize a chance with her makes you sick. but, the idea of doing so and getting your heart shattered makes you just as disoriented in fear.

it’s why you still can’t say anything now. even though you want nothing more than to shake her body and ask her if she wants to kiss you, if she wants you even half as badly as you’ve wanted her, because even half that amount would leave you feeling so fulfilled. because that’s how much you crave her.

“thanks,” you whisper, not wanting to completely ignore her efforts to reassure her.

she nods.

“do you want to get out of here?”

“I do.” she taps the cigarette against the railing. “but, if you want to stay longer, I’ll wait.”

your stomach swells with a bleeding sort of affection that drowns out any other emotion. when she’s this kind, how can she not expect you to like her? 

“we can go.” in all honesty, your mood for a party has been doused by the liquid heat of her words and your subsequent pining. you want nothing more than to digest what she said in pure silence, lest for the music in your walkman. 

she pauses, head cocking to you. you think she’s about to say something, but she just quietly raises the cigarette to you. you carefully take it from her, gulping when your fingers brush her cold skin. “wait here,” she softly says, then heads in, probably to tell everyone of your guys’ departure. 

behind you, you can hear the Debarge song your cousin used to be obsessed with playing. you still remember some of the lyrics – I like the way you comb your hair, I like the stylish clothes you wear, it’s just the little things you do that show how much you really care. you think of lee, suddenly feeling that you, too, would like to write a song listing the things you like about her. there’s so much. she also makes you feel so unnerved just by a look, and has made your ability to feel passion for another person, an ability which had been in slumber for so long, awaken with a great start. you're still afraid of what might happen, of the future, of potential heartbreak, but liking lee, and wanting her, is something you're powerless against.

a few days pass, and things feel quieter than usual. you can tell lee feels some amount of hesitation around you, from the way her shoulders tense when you enter the room, to the way she takes longer than usual to respond. you don’t know if it’s out of guilt, or fear that you’re upset, or something else, but you hate the stilted tension you both have become ensnared by. so, one morning, after taking some deep, calming breaths, you approach her with a peace offering. 

“hey.” you wait for no answer, immediately continuing. “so, if we take the subway up north, we can see those cherry blossoms that everyone’s been talking about. do you want to go today?”

her lips part with a quiet, wet sound, and you try very hard to ignore it. after her eyes dart between you and the papers in front of her, she nods. “okay.” 

an hour later, as you two walk up the path leading to the park’s cherry blossoms attraction, surrounded by lime green buds sprinkling the branches and hugging every crevice and curve, you ask, “were there cherry blossoms where you grew up?” 

lee looks at you sharply, as though surprised that you spoke. you nearly smile – did she expect you to carry on in complete silence? of course you wouldn’t. you want things to go back to usual. 

“yeah, we did.” she stares ahead.

okay, complete silence it is, then.

that is, until lee sighs, then continues with, “my house is surrounded by trees. it looked nice this time of year. my mom, um…” her mouth flinches. “my mom once knitted me a blanket of the blossoms.”

something in you throbs in adoration at the idea of a young lee cuddled in such a tenderly made gift. “that’s so sweet. so, she knits?”

“knits, crochets – she made us a lot of stuff growing up.” you see the bob of her throat as she swallows. “she was a nurse, so it was her way of relaxing. plus, easier to afford than buying those things.”

you absorb this information. with how independent lee is, it makes sense that her single mother worked so hard, and that lee was probably left to fend for herself a lot of the time. you wonder if lee took inspiration from her mother growing up, and used her as a guidepost in forming her own steady, assured habits. and in light of this information, you suppose lee’s lack of spending might’ve also taken root in how she seems to have grown up financially. 

your fingers reach into your pocket, skimming along the camera she had bought you.

“it’s also just more personal,” you add. “you know, a homemade thing like that is always going to beat store-bought.”

“why do you think so?”

you shrug. “because, you know, it’s something physical that a person poured hours into creating, just to make you happy. and there’s something sweet about it, isn’t it? having a physical, like, product of someone’s affection, being able to hold it and know they did too.”

her lips fold in tightly together, and she blinks hard at the path ahead. “yeah. but, she doesn’t do it anymore.”

you frown. “no?” 

she shakes her, the corner of her lip pulsing. “no. she doesn’t have it in her to do it.”

“what do you mean?”

“my mom…” a loud exhaling puff of air slips from her nose. “she’s not well.”

you feel the downwards pinch of your lips deepen. does she mean it physically, mentally or emotionally? either way, you wonder if it has something to do with why she dreads going there so much. as the only daughter, is she over-relied on? “what do you mean?”

“she sometimes becomes… well, disconnected. to me, her surroundings, even the stuff she says. at least, it feels like she’s disconnected. and she’s, um, really scared for me – because I live away. and I think she’s scared for herself too.”

“because she’s alone?”

her eyes flutter shut momentarily. “yeah.” her voice is raspy, heavy with responsibility.

sadness surges through you. she looks so pained in confessing all this, so wounded over being away from home, away from a mother who clearly is struggling. but, from what lee has said, it feels like she was struggling in her own ways too. “that’s not your fault,” you try to gently remind her.

“it is, in a way,” she mutters. “I could’ve stayed closer to my house. but, I wanted to leave.”

“why? why did you want to leave?”

“because I was tired of it all.” her voice is hushed, breathy with the shame of the admission. anyone could tell how bad she feels to admit this. “tired of her holding on so tight. of feeling guilty for always leaving – guilty for a lot, really. of her paranoia… for the world and about sinning, and–” she cuts herself off, lips claiming together, turning away from you as though she’s aghast at having admitted so much.

but, it doesn’t feel like so much to you. her vague descriptions of her situation only further your confusion and curiosity. “why is she so paranoid?”

“she’s gone through a lot – when raising me on her own. and that just made her scared of everything outside our home. and even before those things happened that caused that fear…” she bites her lip. “she was cut off from her family before having me, and criticized a lot. I guess she was made to feel like a sinner, and she was scared of me becoming the same. or, I don’t know, just feeling the same. but, it was too much, her reminders and pressure. even when she was barely saying anything, I was scared. I couldn’t take it.” her words begin to waver at the end, and a piece of sympathy stabs you in the chest. you can see the great effort it’s taking her to confide in you about this. sure, it was clear since that first visit back home in october that whatever her and her mom had, it was complicated. and the more her facial expressions became decipherable to you, and the more she spoke to you about her mother, the clearer it became just how much the visits strained her, and the total, utter weight they placed upon her shoulders. but, it also became revealed just how much of a necessity they were for her, and despite all the discomfort, the intense amount of care and loyalty wrapped in those hours and days for her. but, this is the first time she’s given such a specific account of what her and her mom struggle with. just hearing all the layers to it is enough to make you falter in your steps, and you marvel at how much she must have gone through to lead up to her departure for university. most of all, you feel a pain for lee – she deserves to have a bond with her mother that is steady and comfortable, and to hear just how disarrayed it is in reality makes a longing stir within you. a longing that is purely for her sake, solely to secure her some more peace after all she’s clearly undergone in life and continues to carry with her.

“I’m sorry. that she was cut off, and that it led to, you know, you receiving so much pressure from both her and yourself. and for all the other stuff, like the paranoia and you feeling like you couldn’t leave her.” your apology feels so weak. all you can do is really just comfort her with your words and provide her some empathy. but, it changes nothing. she has still suffered through her life, and your words won’t erase the aftereffects it has on her. the lack of action you can really commit to makes you feel pathetic. but, you suppose that’s part of being her friend, someone who care so much for her. being there, even if you can only do a bit to help. because giving her any help takes precedence over any self-satisfaction you can wring out from accomplishing something bigger in assisting her. “you didn’t deserve to go through that. I wish you had had things easier, really. I can’t even imagine how hard it was – how hard it must still be.”

“thanks,” she mumbles, hands stuffed into her pocket. her eyes skim along the ground before latching onto your face, and she tilts her head in acknowledgement.

your hand itches. how badly you wish you could hold her and tell her everything will be okay.

when you two arrive at the cherry blossom trees, you’re immediately swept into immense awe, the feeling making you afloat in delight and admiration. the small flowers are an array of white and cream, small peaks of pink scattered about through the army of them. students surround you and lee, many of them sitting on the ground and playing card games together, eating food or drinking from a shared bottle. other people walk about, taking strolls or walking their dogs. the thing interlocking all of you together is the collective spark of joy and curiosity from the cherry blossoms, children being lifted by their parents to tug some from the branches, while other people reverently touch the petals.

you try to take a peak at lee, eager to see what her response to the scenery is, a satisfied thrum running through you when you catch a glimpse of her small smile, eyes scanning the park in her careful, unfaltering way. 

“see? aren’t you glad we came?” 

she huffs with a noiseless laugh. “you’ll really use even a natural phenomenon as a chance to brag?”

you feel your shoulders loosen at her response. thank god. things finally seem to be easing up. “well, if I won’t, who will? you certainly don’t give me compliments,” you mockingly say with an exaggerated frown. 

“mm,” she hums, pretty brown eyes drawn up as they skitter over the branches. “it just takes a lot of effort to come up with them.”

you burst into a loud, offended round of laughter. “is that statement meant to indicate social awkwardness or a lack of good traits in me?”

she shrugs, her smile widening. “I’ll let you guess.”

“if I do so correctly, will you tell me?”

“I shouldn’t spoil the fun.”

you snort at just how fucking deadpan she sounds saying that. “fun? I’m sorry, but who is it that leaves every party early again?” you taunt teasingly, bumping her shoulder. secretly, you harbour the wish that mentioning the party in a moment of banter will ease whatever tension and awkwardness has been caused by it, and any hesitation you felt at your choice fades away delightfully fast when she only rolls her eyes, responding with, “who is it that returned with me last time?”

“listen, in my defense,” you drawl, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “derek and his friends would’ve spoiled the rest of the night.”

“yeah. they would’ve.”

you falter at the quieting of her tone. “you didn’t like them either?” you already know the answer, of course.

“no, I didn’t.”

you smile at her bluntness, then wave a hand to a spot under a particularly large tree with winding, crooked branches that provide some shelter from the surprisingly bright afternoon. “here?” 

she nods, but continues to stand with her hands in her pocket. when you cock your head in confusion, her eyes awkwardly skip between you and the ground. oh. oh. she’s waiting for you to sit first. your mouth quivers with the temptation of a grin, stomach a whirlwind of butterflies. yeah, you certainly did good picking this one. 

when you sit cross-legged on the ground, lee shuffles to a spot a safe distance from you, stretching her legs out, and you nearly groan. you’ve been close to her numerous times by now, sure, but in her presence, you feel practically touch-starved, never being able to relish in enough of the pleasant tingle of her arm brushing yours. if you were together, maybe lee would brace her back against the tree, and you could lie between her legs. or lay your head on her lap. you feel a pleasure at thinking of these spots on her body you’ve never had the pleasure of touching before, seized by a desperation to know what they feel like. her thigh against your cheek, shoulder against your ear, wrist against your lips. 

she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, nimble fingers easily tugging one out. she carefully scans the grounds before taking out a plain silver lighter and lighting it. you could practically bury your face into the muddy grass. how does she look so good doing everything? how does lighting a cigarette, when it's in her hands and between her muted pink lips, turn into the most angelic of actions?

when her eyes sharply capture your gaze, you nearly flinch, immediately forcing yourself to linger on the small family walking by on a nearby path. 

“what is it?”

you ignore her intense eyes. god, why did her sparing doses of eye contact serve to do nothing but unnerve you? “nothing…” you fumble for something, anything, really, to say that can take the focus off you. “just thinking about what a great anti-cancer campaign you’re making for the children here.”

she laughs lightly. “yeah, well, I try.”

you raise an eyebrow at the cigarette. “very hard, apparently.”

her beam softens into a gentle tilt of her lips. “I’m glad it’s paid off for some recognition.”

“at this point, just admit you’re an attention whore, lee,” you tease. lee’s the farthest thing, you know that. she’d probably be content to slink into the background for the rest of her life.

you pull out the camera she got you, pointing it at the trees, the sunlight bursting through the edges of the leaves in a way that sends them into lime jewels, glittering under the sun’s heat. a thrill runs through you. spring really is here, warmer days to come.

when you direct the camera to lee, she glances at you from the corner of her eye, but says nothing, continuing to smoke. your hands feel like they could tremble in this moment. it’s your first time photographing her, and if you get the film developed, it’ll be your very first photograph of her. the knowledge of it all – capturing her in permanence, keeping her secure in this physical memento that’ll always exist somewhere, no matter what happens – makes the moment feel heavy on your heart. even just making it clear to her that you want her locked – no, that’s not right – kept alive in this way, is a vulnerable admission in and of itself, even if it’s declared silently through the simple raise of your camera. you can’t help but feel relieved she says nothing.

you snap the photo, her pose relaxed, torso leaning back on her palms, which are planted to the ground. behind her is a flood of white and pink flowers dotting the world, the grass alit with the flaming light of the sun.

you set the camera in your lap, thumb stroking the shining black surface. how powerful this little box is, to be able to retain and express a single moment forever. you know it’s a blessing to have such power available through the technology of these days, but how apparent does it make the sentiment that a moment only lasts for as long as a singular shutter. the way the petals litter the ground, how the kids’ laughter sways along with the wind, lee’s closed eyes as a particularly fresh breeze kisses that spot between her brow – you’ll only have these moments before your eyes for a few minutes or even a few seconds. and then, they’ll be gone. it leaves you with a bittersweet ache – how the witnessing of something can mean so much, and instigate such a flood or silence of emotions, and then, in a matter or minutes to hours, be gone and faded into a memory tucked away. sometimes, even though it’s silly to admit, you sometimes feel like you’re running out of moments to actually live on, scrambling to fill your time with things that can make for good memories rather than just trusting your life to naturally supply them to you.

you suppose part of that is due to the pressure of being in your youth. so many people frame university as the peak of their life, an amazing couple of years that simmer into oblivion the older a person gets, which apparently ends up being for the best, since they claim life never ends up quite matching up, anyways. you’ve heard this rhetoric so many times that you feel like there is a ticking clock constantly pricking at the back of your mind, reminding you pointedly of just how much time you have left before graduation. you feel like you need to keep doing more than before, and truly seize this apparently opportune, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

but, you don’t like the thought that things end here. that after university, or one’s twenties, life is just a downhill slope that you have no choice but to roll down the steep shape of until finally dropping into an abyss. you’d much rather life have the directionless shape it’s possessed so far, when happiness and good phases strike you with resounded and delighted force, and when hard times cause you to plummet when you least expect it – all without warning. your so-called “youth” surely hasn’t been all that ideal, and it hasn’t aligned to any exclusive feeling or experience. so, why should you subject the rest of your life to such a bleak, single-dimensioned expectation? sure, with each new year, each new stage of one’s life, more complications, complexes and dilemmas arise. that just seems part of the territory of having more time on earth, and so, more experiences to amplify the nuances and contrasts of life and struggle. but, surely, that cannot mean life simply ends when the number “two” leaves your age. because you’d like to think that in your thirties, and forties, and however many decades, even if life becomes more of a confusing jumble to map out, the lingering time on earth has only provided you even more experiences to dance and experience contentment in. you hope life is like that, for the idea of things becoming a slow, dull tug downwards as soon as you enter the real world is one that is too heartbreaking to face.

“what are you thinking about?”

you pick at a blade of grass. “wouldn’t you like to know?” you don’t even know what compels you to say such a thing. if it’s because you simply want to tease her, or if it’s a desperate attempt to seek out confirmation for her care for your thoughts.

“I would.”

you feel your face warm at the earnest declaration. “I was just thinking about – I don’t know, do you ever feel pressured to, you know, live it up at our age? have all these experiences because people say this should be the best time of our life?”

“no.” she takes a slow drag, pondering on your words before continuing. “I know what I do and don’t like, and I… don’t have the energy to pretend otherwise.” she shrugs lightly. “I just like doing what I know I like.”

“that must be nice.” that sense of security in herself, in the passage of time.

“you feel differently, though?”

“I don’t know.” you feel embarrassed now to confide in her about such a thing, knowing that she cannot relate. “there’s all this pressure about living out your twenties, and life ending once you depart from that age, so I get scared I’m not doing enough.”

“yeah.” she nods. “but, it’s not really true, is it? your life won’t end in your twenties. I think the people who say that are probably just… I don’t know – going through, like, recollection, nostalgia or some kind of monotony.” 

“that’s what scares me, though. that that sentiment of, like, missing your youth, is so common that it might indicate that those feelings – that emptiness – are inevitable.”

“and maybe they are. but, that doesn’t mean you have to deal with it if you don’t want to. if you ever feel that way, change it.” her eyes raise to you, honest and bright under the sun, shining to a light brown. “and don’t spend time on anticipating those feelings. that’s counterproductive.”

you huff out a small laughter. you don’t know if it’s her logic-driven thought process, or discardment of common social dilemmas, but her blunt words are so structured that you cannot help but chuckle in a mixture of amusement and endearment.

“if I do ever get in that slump, promise to help?” you ask, raising your hand to hers.

she blinks at your hand before enveloping it in hers. she’s dry and cool in your grip, and you wonder how cold her skin would feel under your lips. “promise.” 

–

lee feels pride simmering in her at the sight of you using your camera, but she hides her smile behind the cigarette, wanting to keep her happiness at watching you to herself, like a private secret.

when you aren’t looking at her, she watches you, eyes taking in how you bend in all different kinds of angles to get particular shots. at one point, your shirt runs up your back and she very intentionally rips her eyes from the patch of skin and faint hairs she saw. she’s more than thankful that you’re occupying yourself when her mind begins to race with images of sliding her palm along that spot and feeling its warmth.

after you lean in close to photograph her hand with the cigarette, so close she can smell your shampoo, she finds herself compelled to ask, “did you used to photograph?”  she can’t tell if your eagerness is due to a dormant passion getting awoken, or if this is your first time engaging with it.

you nod, smiling down at the camera. “yeah. I used to have a lot more hobbies as a kid. you know, photography, reading, drawing, writing. I was always interested in those things.”

from your class choices, to the kind of work you do in your organization, lee could always tell that you leaned towards creative work. but, rather than feel any sense of curiosity satiated at your answer, she feels it only fold in on itself and heighten. “what kind of things did you write?”

“I went through so many phases, I can’t even pinpoint one.” still, you bring your knees up, thoughtfully wrapping your arms around them. “for a while, I was really into fantasy. I loved writing stories on, you know, magical swords and daggers, characters who fit into all the archetypes. and imagining myself in those stories, too. when I hit puberty and started having back to back crushes, it was romance.” lee picks at her sleeve when you say this. so, romance had been something on your mind for a while. she wonders if any experience you could ever have with her – romantic, that is – would automatically be a disappointment. 

“I also had a sci-fi phase,” you add as an afterthought. “I loved, and well, still do, imagining myself in different stories.”

she hums. you seem to have a world of tales available to you, lost in your mind. she wonders what’s that like, to have so many universes and worlds to transport yourself to. she wants to learn about them all. she wants to know what exists in the ideal worlds you’ve spent your life travelling to. “what, um… drew you to those kinds of stories?”

“I guess it all depended on what I craved at the time. or what the media I was surrounded myself with caused me to crave? sometimes, I’d get through a fantasy series in a week, and real life would feel so boring in comparison. and so, I’d write stories, and through that, could at least temporarily live in that world, you know?”

she nods. she really does know. as a child, she had partaken in such little fantasies, imagining herself to be in the films she often watched alone when her mother worked long hours at the hospital. it gave her a sort of solace from what often felt like a lonely existence. 

“that sounds nice,” she admits. “that your thoughts felt believable enough that you could transfer to another place.”

“did you not have that?”

“not really. if I did, I don’t know, daydream, it’s not something that would last long. even with wanting to act – I thought it was a logical way to escape real life. I don’t think my thoughts were enough to convince me.”

“I get that. in a way, it might be a blessing.” when she raises her head to you, you smile. “sometimes, the daydreams being so convincing made it all the more heartbreaking when I came back to reality. I got to experience this beautiful fantasy, and then, it just shattered.”

 when lee had realized things would probably not work out for her as an actress, she supposes she had also felt shattered in a way. her escape plan had been broken. to you, the escape plan must have been your fantastical refuge. she can understand why it would have caused pain. “yeah. I mean, like you said, maybe it was a good thing? did it help you… like your life more?”

you chuckle. “not really, considering I always escaped back to it. now, though?” you glance at her and when she tilts her head, you continue. “now, I’m better with it. I also just don’t really do much creative stuff anymore. it never feels like I have the time.”

“maybe you should make a schedule.”

you giggle. “thank you, lee.”

she blinks. she doesn’t really know what’s so amusing, but you’re laughing, and she’s content with that.

–

“who would’ve thought there’d ever be a day where lee harker is the one who extended an invitation to a public place?” 

lee huffs slightly, backing away as you make your way through the bathroom, shoes softly tapping along the cream tiles. “yes. to the bar, not the bathroom.”

“they said you were in here!” you weakly justify, knowing the only real reason for being here is having wanted a moment alone with her before heading back out. 

not that it’s so unbearable outside. after all, it is a bar that lee willingly agreed to attend, so you knew from the get-go that it’d probably be quite soothing in comparison to some of the other places in this area. the part of the bar with the tables is alit with colours of pink and red, a soft flush to every object in the room, almost as though every inch is tinged with love. the streams of colour swarm even into the bathroom, casting everything into a hot, ethereal glow that seems to make your surroundings hazy. like a faraway dream.  

you and lee had spent the afternoon pouring over your work together, and due to her lighter load, lee left earlier to meet her friends, since maria had wanted to see the local band performing. she had initially bid you a goodbye, then promptly left, but not even ten minutes later, she returned back to you and fumbled out her notebook and black marker, quickly scribbling the name of the place down and handing it to you.

and now, here you are. when you found amaya and maria, amaya gestured for you to ignore maria, who was watching the performance in a trance, saying into your ear, “lee’s in the bathroom. the one downstairs, the guy here said it’s barely used.”

the music is muffled in the confines of the bathroom, and it feels like a private utopia. the warm light wraps around lee’s skin, and she looks iridescent, something spun out of flame and ash, eyes impossibly darker in the dim light.

“hm, avoid making that joke with them.” her lips quirk up. “I think two parties in a row have already started convincing them that I’m okay with more.”

“two in a row?” you scoff. “lee, the one you went to before the last was in fucking autumn. october, to be exact. that’s, like, a seven month gap.”

“well, my gaps in this circumstance tend to align more to seven years.”

you snicker. “fine. fair enough.” her words give you pause and you roll them over in your head, like a dice, trying to determine any possibility, before asking, “why did you come last time, then?”

she leans on the edge of the counter, and two sinks down from her, you perch up on the ledge. “I, um… well, I didn’t want you going by yourself.”

perhaps you’ve gotten too accustomed to her friendship. back in fall, a confession like that probably would’ve had you jumping in ecstasy. now, it just brings in a wave of embarrassment with a pinch of annoyance. so, she only came because she felt you’d be a loner there or something? self-consciousness and desire for more from her make an ugly pair, and you feel the bitterness of their combined powers.

“I wouldn’t have been alone,” you mutter, looking down. “my friend was going to be there.”

“I hadn’t realized.”

“so, if you had, you wouldn’t have come?” you can hear the petulant, undignified lilt to your voice. you know you sound irrational right now. it is damned sweet that lee came to make sure you weren’t by yourself. but, you pine for something more, and you know it’s selfish, but it’s been months, and you’re wanting.

“um, I don’t know.”

you sigh sharply, turning your head from her even further.

“what’s wrong?”

her voice quietly echoes in the bathroom, and you hear the soft trepidation lining her words. you hate that you’re the one to have caused such uncertainty. again. you debate perhaps lying, but the idea of that makes you wince. even if the ordeal of exposing the truth is a tad humiliating, the idea of starting to lie to lee is worse. you two have finally built to a friendship that is easy and vulnerable – how could you ruin that? and you can’t bear being dishonest with her. besides, she’s said something before that was… questionable, what with the night of the party. perhaps, you also have a one-use pass to say something questionable.

“I kind of wanted to hear you went just to… I don’t know, because you wanted to hang out with me.”

“I went for that too.” the admission is immediate and gentle, and you start at the lack of hesitation in it. perhaps you seeming off is compelling her to do it to assure you.

her response should sate your desires, and in some ways, it does. but, the mention of the party, the reminder of what she said about if she kisses you, only instigates a newfound desperation for answers. what did she mean when she said that? before, you were so concerned with having your friend back that you didn’t care to try to investigate, and fear of what could happen if you did only held you back more. but, what if this was your only chance? what if lee never says anything like that again?

trying to subtly pry, you ask, “did you, um… regret going?”

you watch her eyes flick up, glancing at the stalls across from you before going back down. “why would I?”

“you know…” you gulp down hard. just out with it. do it. “spin the bottle. the guys being jackasses,” you add, trying not to shine the spotlight entirely onto the potential kiss.

she shrugs, tilting her head in your direction. “I did regret it for a bit. I felt – I don’t know.” she shakes her head, and you hear the sharp breath of her singular inhale. “I felt worried I had embarrassed you.”

your mouth curves. god, she’s so sweet and darling. how no one has currently captured her heart, you don’t know. “I was a bit embarrassed. but, it’s not at all your fault. you had – have – every right to say no. I just, I thought it had to do with me.” you rub your palm on your neck, feeling your face burn at the admission. fuck, it could be so goddamn anxiety-inducing to practically lay out on an emotional autopsy table, insides spilled out for her to scan.

“it didn’t,” she says in a hushed tone. you can barely even look at her. “if anything, I would’ve…” a soft tapping noise emerges in the bathroom, and you know it’s her nervous fidgeting against the cold counter. “... preferred you over anyone else.”

you freeze at the words, feeling your nails dig into your palms. god, does she even realize how big a deal some of the stuff she says is? she tosses it around as though it’s nothing, even though you know she gives careful consideration to every sentiment spoken. what does she even mean by that? your body is still feeling weightless from the bolt of pure shock, as though you’re far away from this moment. there were awfully attractive people in that circle, people you had felt great anger at the thought of lee kissing. and she had secretly preferred you above anyone else, even her close companions? but, you suppose it wasn’t truly such a secret, since she just told you. and maybe that’s because there’s nothing to truly hide – maybe her desire for your lips in that moment had hinged on nothing but comfortability, friendship, and maybe shared sexual preference.

there’s only one way to find out. “why? because we – we have, I don’t know – we’re both gay? or because we’re friends?”

“mm,” she hums, nodding.

disappointment strikes at you like a harsh, ringing bell, the waves of the impact sending rolls of hurt through you, your stomach aching at the sudden emotion. “that’s it?”

from your peripheral vision, you see her shift. “‘that’s it’? did you… want there to be something else?”

fuck. she’s catching onto you. “I… I, well, no, I just wondered if there was.”

“why are you wondering?”

your stomach flips, her very direct questions shattering any semblance of control you thought you had on the situation. it leaves you horribly unsettled, and you readjust yourself on the seat, trying to ease the weight of your words with some distracting movement. “I just, I don’t know, I would just like to know.”

“but, why? any other reason could make things… different.”

your head whips to her, holding your breath without realizing. surely, she must be talking about romantic feelings. no other admission having to do with the almost-kiss could cause discomfort. only something having to do with having wanted the kiss could cause things to change. nothing else. right? you’re sure of it. but, again, she’s speaking in a hypotheticals – she’s not confirming she has these reasons herself. perhaps she’s just truly curious about why you’d want to know. it feels too good to be true, to think she really could want this kiss.

but, the part of you that itches, and longs, and feels like raw flesh under her gaze, wants to hope. and if you hope that she has those reasons, then you hope some kind of assurance will help. “different isn’t bad. and you know, if something one of us said ever did cause, I don’t know, change, then I think we could get through it.” hypocritical words, considering you had been hiding your feelings for months out of fear of the heartbreak and change that could be aroused from a confession. but, it’s true – at least, it feels true when you think of lee confessing. because you’d ensure that anything she does, or says, would never cause a strain on your end. when you think of her being the one to initiate something, a sort of protectiveness takes over. you’d never let her words lead to a severement of the friendship, not if you can help it.

she’s silent.

your fingers cling onto the edge of the counter, the nausea of anxiety swimming in your throat. “please, lee, is there anything else?”

her eyes meet yours, and they’re practically shining in the shadows of red. “there is.”

your fingers ache. “tell me.”

“I wanted to kiss you. I want to, still.”

your eyes burn, and you grind your teeth together, trying to will away the sudden urge to burst into tears. you didn’t realize just how badly you had wanted her, and itched for her to touch you, until now. just the confession from her is enough to make you want to crawl to this dirty, tiled floor and sob against it.

“I want you to, as well.”

she breaks the eye contact, her breaths shaky and heavy. you see the slow rise and fall of her shoulders, and your hand flinches. 

“lee, come here.”

she glances at your knee before nodding quietly, lifting herself from the edge and slowly making her way to you, not stopping until she’s right in front of you. her hands fiddle at her sides, and her sense of nerves is an odd sort of comfort to you, your own stomach still prickling with the anxiety and anticipation of the moment. hands trembling, palms sticky and sweaty, you gently take ahold of her wrists, and tug her closer. she lets you lead her, just as she had that day in the subway station. god, what would have happened had that day never occurred?

her face is impossibly close to yours. you feel the smooth coldness of her watch, and you nearly shudder at the warmth of her nearness. you can feel the weight of her so close to you, and with just another tug, your chests could easily press together. you feel your mind go numb, slightly delirious, at the exhilaration of being so close to her. you could count her long, beautiful lashes if you so wished it. her gaze lifts to you, and your eyes skitter down, stomach turning at knowing she just caught you watching.

her hands carefully slip from your grip, and you feel your gut tighten in momentary panic until she places the flat of her hands on either side of your thighs. seated on the counter gives her a few inches over you and she leans down so your faces are levelled. you gulp, feeling your body taken captive by an indescribable amount of flutters and whirlwinds.

“can I kiss you?”

your lips part, the entire moment feeling far from real life, wrapped in the hazy veil of a dream or a fantasy. you’ve thought of this moment so many times – and to experience it feels like something far from the bounds of everyday life.

but, it also feels extremely real. the soft guitar of a Mazzy Star song streams through the walls, you can hear the tremble of lee’s breaths, you can feel the sticky, wet sweat of your armpits, causing your shirt to cling to you. you smell the cigarette smoke on her, and you wonder if she can smell the musk of the long day on you. the counter isn’t comfortable, and presses too harshly against you, and your lips are still dry from the chill of the rainy afternoon.

It’s painfully real, and the last thing you’d ever want is any alteration, no matter how minor.

you nod, trying to still your breaths.

lee’s eyes scan your face, just as it has so many times before. has she wanted to kiss you every one of those times?

her lips close in that hard, determined line, and you know she’s ready. those dark eyes remain on your lips, and she slowly moves in, eyelids shutting as she presses them to yours. 

the two of you meet with a small, wet sound, and your eyes close on instinct, red and blue spots clouding your vision. her mouth is soft, so soft, like every other part of her she hides, and you shiver at the feeling of them tenderly cushioning yours, wrapping around and exchanging the tenderest of touches with your bottom lip. lee kisses like she does everything – with focus, hesitation and a slow build to comfort. her lips move with careful slowness, small wet noises coming from her ministrations, and your stomach aches with how gentle her movements are, as though your mouth is a place to study and commit to memory.

☆

she cups your face with one hand, thumb gently smoothing over the bumps of your pimples, and you nearly groan at the touch. fuck, how long you had wanted her this way, how much you had craved and hungered to feel these little touches that only resided in fantasy – those long fingers along your jaw, the pad of the thumb on your cheek, those pretty, pink lips moving against yours. every small touch has you feeling a new burst of agony, excitement and arousal, all mixing together to replenish and answer the longing questions that had accumulated over months of wanting this girl.

this girl who can’t keep away from your mouth, who is starting to move faster and harder, her mouth massaging against yours with wide, firm movements. the tip of her tongue skims across your bottom lip, and you feel yourself clench at the cold touch of it. without meaning to, a soft gasp pulls from your lips, and lee’s tongue pushes into it, brushing against yours once, twice, before breaking from hesitation and beginning to stroke it with gentle laps. you squirm against the counter, aching to push down on it and grind against it, the spot between your legs aching. 

her other hand raises to your back, and you marvel at how big it feels, the touch sending you into a long, painfully obvious shudder. lee’s lips twitch, and you know she’s smiling. her fingernails skim along your back over the fabric of your shirt, and you moan softly at the tickling sensation. another puff of air hits your lips, the movements of lee’s mouth stilling for a split second, before the velvety sound of her laugh rings in the bathroom.

☆

god, she’s laughing against your lips. laughing against your fucking lips. her tongue is out of your mouth, but her lips still brush yours, upturned in a wide smile. the realization feels like the most important, cherished discovery of your entire life, and it being a true reality, one that you’re experiencing, makes you feel like you will remain locked in this moment forever, never able to move on. how could you, when this moment existing, truly occurring, is the one thing to be made real from months of private dreams and pining thoughts? you will never move on.

as the heat of the moment sizzles down, and the fog clears, lee continues to smile against your lips. you mumble, “shut up.”

your eyes wander from her nose to her eyes, and you’re frozen at how fond she looks. laugh lines creased, under eyes more defined from the lift of her smile, blinks slow and gentle, so different from how harsh they are when she’s deep in thought – she looks at you like something to treasure, and you’ve never felt so desired and exposed. not that your memory is reliable right now – every sense, every thought, is wrapped up in the kiss.

“mm,” she hums. “okay.” then, she leans in again. 

–

when lee calls her mom that night to check in, and she’s asked the usual question of: did you say your prayers?, lee doesn’t feel like it’s a lie to say yes, even though she doesn't say her prayers, and never has. it's because she held you tonight, for the first time, and that felt so close to holiness. 

she feels like she's running on a high. she feels like she could almost commit herself to belief again, so long as the scripture is written on your lips. 

[miss-sweetea-pie]

One of my favorite parallels between Aang and Zuko is during the crossroads of destiny episode. I feel like it’s more subtle since lot that happened was side sweep mostly in Aang case unfortunately.

For most of the story we noticed Aang and Zuko are parallel with each other for example we get their back stories at the same time, we watch them work together. And during the guru and crossroad episode we see that they need to make an active decision on who they are meant to be. Time to face there wants and needs.

For Aang his want is to be with Katara no matter the cost vs his need to master the avatar state.

And for Zuko it’s wanting to go home to the fire nation vs need to do the right thing and make an active decision and be branded as a traitor.

And the really interesting part is that the writers use katara as an anchor in away to express this point.

My favorite way to explain it is that Zuko was suppose to let Katara in and Aang was suppose to let her go.

And guess what they both fail.

Zuko’s betrayal was supposed to be a surprise for both the audience and the characters. all out in the open. oh no! Zuzu we where rooting for you! How could you?

Aangs betrayal was a secret only the audience and Aang knew about it. And it should have been explored more in season three. And yes Aang did betray everyone when he turn his back on the Guru. And he definitely betrayed Katara in that moment, because all katara wants is for him to have control of the avatar state and end this war. And it crazy that Aang keeps the truth to himself, like he doesn’t feel bad about keeping that from Katara? So much for getting the mark of the trusted. Am I right? (Sure the show tried to explain that azula’s lightning blocked his chakras now but that sounds more like a sloppy way to fix it so Aang can get his forever girl, also it ruins the narrative, this was an internal struggle for Aang to overcome) I have heard the argument that Aang being shot with lightning was a punishment for letting go of Katara but I see it more as a punishment for letting her go in that moment when he should have already done it. Think about it if he just mastered the avatar state he essentially could’ve just rolled into Ba Sing Se with god mode activated, stopped Azula and black sun would have been a success and war is over. Him not letting go of Katara when the Guru suggests it does however tie into he’s character flaw, avoidance. he waited till he has no choice but to do it so he is “punished” for it.

Well at least Zuko got to redeem himself. All Aang got was a perfectly place rock it’s a shame.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Internet Is Forever: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: A man is going around killing women in their homes and filming it for all to see. It's heartbreaking to watch but you're determined to catch him before he can hurt anyone else.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place." - George Bernard Shaw

You're not required by your work to attend any more therapy sessions. Melissa signed off on your progress even though you were a bit sad to leave. She had created such a safe space for you to vent about your life and feelings. She gave you the option of attending sessions either through insurance or out of pocket which you might do. You don't need to be going multiple times a week or even once a week. Maybe you might do a bi-monthly thing.

You and Spencer are getting ready to go to work when you notice him staring at himself in the mirror by the front door. He got a haircut since his hair was getting too long but you think he looks sexy. You cap the thermos full of coffee and slide it into your bag before walking over to Spencer. He runs his fingers through his hair and tries to style it in a way that makes it look normal.

"Spencer, would you stop? You look handsome."

"What if they don't like it?"

You turn him to face you and reach up to touch it. He closes his eyes when he feels your fingers glide through his hair. You scrape your nails against his scalp lightly, and you grin when you see goosebumps on his arms.

"It doesn't matter if they do or not. I think you look sexy."

"My hair was getting too long."

"I know. I don't mind this at all. As long as your hair isn't longer than mine."

'It wasn't that long," he chuckles.

"Again, you look very handsome." You tighten your grip on his hair and lightly tug it. "Plus, it's still pullable."

"Don't start something you can't finish," he growls.

"Come on, we're going to be late," you laugh.

Everyone is already in the briefing room when you get to work. He nervously plays with his fingers so you take his wrist and run your hand over his pulse point. He slides his hand into yours and squeezes it tenderly. You let go of his hand when you walk into the briefing room.

"Well, hello," JJ says.

Everyone looks at Spencer in confusion.

"What, did you join a boy band?" Hotch asks.

"No?"

"Isn't he handsome?" you grin and kiss his head.

"Alright, this is Dorris Archer who is the third woman to go missing in Boise, Idaho this year. With her are Paula Renmar and Samantha Rush. They went missing roughly two months apart," JJ says.

"Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties to early thirties and all living on their own, but two of them were in committed relationships. It looks like they lived in normal suburban houses that can give the unsub privacy."

"The differences are more striking than the similarities," Spencer says about the looks of each woman. "There are different hair colors and different body shapes."

"What do you know about his MO?" Hotch asks JJ.

"That's why we were invited in. The abduction sites are pristine. There is no DNA besides the victims, and there are no signs of forced entry or a struggle. The victims aren't reported missing until two or three days after they're abducted."

"Two or three days? Women like this don't just vanish without someone noticing."

"Yes, which is why I asked Garcia to dig into their lives."

Speaking of, Penelope walks into the briefing room at the right time. She gives Spencer a confused look but doesn't comment on his hair.

"When I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see how the unsub is doing it. It's through their social networking sites. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and just about everything else. If it's a social media network, they were on it. If you look at each of their last posts, they all say the same thing. They were all going out of town, on a business trip, or on a vacation. However, when you look at the time and date stamp on each of the photos, they were posted the morning after they went missing."

"The unsub posted them," Hotch says.

"Social network apps are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open. They posted everything from what they were having for dinner to where they were going on dates."

"So, this unsub friends his victims and then uses that as a cover once he takes them? That means he can hack into their accounts. He's excellent with computers, then."

"That definitely profiles as patient and organized," Spencer says. "He's obsessive enough to remove all forensic details but also patient enough to wait two months before abductions."

"He can afford to be. He gets three days to do whatever he wants to these women. That means we need to assume these women are already dead. The question is what he does do while he has them?"

You continue the conversation on the plane.

"So, if this unsub is using social networking apps to find his victims, can't we use that to find him? If these women each had a hundred friends following them, then the unsub would pop up on each of their lists, right?"

"The detective in charge, John Fordham, looked into their groups. Everyone checked out."

"Social networking sites are surprisingly insecure. Facebook recently tried to update all their privacy settings, and in doing so, they made everybody's profiles viewable."

"Can somebody explain to me the appeal of these sites? 'Eating sushi tonight. Yum.' 'Boss is keeping me late at work. Grr.' Whose life is so important that we'd be interested in this kind of detail?" Rossi asks.

What a boomer. You have to hold your laugh in but you lock eyes with JJ who only smiles.

"I don't know. I guess that's the running joke, right? Nobody is, but we'd all like to believe there's actually an audience out there that wants to follow our every move. some sites even have a GPS feature built in. You can tell exactly where someone is every time they post a new comment."

"This is telling us how he's finding them, but it's not telling us how he's getting into their houses," Hotch says.

"At the very least, I believe that he has copies of their keys. Dorris had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56 AM. He knew that, too. He also found a way to deal with her dog. A German Shepherd she adopted from the pound last year went missing the night that she did," JJ explains.

"So, this guy's gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse and talks his way inside. Once he's familiar enough with the house, he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything."

"What about the people who come into your house that you don't consider a threat? Home repair guys? Dog walkers?"

"Detective Fordham looked into that, too," JJ says. "No one even came close to being a killer."

"Okay, Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction sites and see if anything points to his MO. Dave, you, Reid, and Y/N go back over the women's lives. Start with their friends on the social networking sites. If this is how the unsub is finding them, maybe they're connected to him without even realizing it."

Once you land in Boise, you meet with Detective Fordham at the police station.

"Thank you for coming," he says after the introductions. "We can really use your help."

"Did you find anyone willing to talk to us about the victims?"

"The problem wasn't who to bring in. It was who not to."

Looks like you're doing interviews. The man you're with is Dorris' boyfriend who is eager to give any information that might be important.

"Thank you for coming in, Nate. We just have a few more questions about your girlfriend's disappearance. Did Dorris ever mention letting someone in her home?"

"Like who?"

"We're just trying to figure out who would know the code to her home security. It must have been someone she trusted with the combination."

"No," he shakes his head. "She was smart. She took precautions. That's the whole reason she got Bruno, her dog. She trained him for like six weeks."

You sigh and take out her crime scene photos.

"I know these are going to be hard to look at, but do you see anything different?" You lay out the photos for him. "Maybe something he might have done to get himself inside?"

Nate has a hard time looking at the photos but he is confused rather than sad. He comes across a picture of a bookshelf that's only filled with photographs of her and Nate. There are three shelves with two pictures on each shelf.

"No, this isn't right." He points to a picture of them that's on the top shelf on the right. "This is when we first started dating. It should be on the left, not the right."

"She wouldn't have rearranged them?"

"No. She arranged them in a certain way to tell a story. It was how we fell in love."

You step off to the side and call Derek who is at her house with Emily. You explain to him about the misplacement of the photographs. If he rearranged them, he must have put something behind them.

"Do you see it?" you ask.

"Yeah. It looks like he tried hanging something on the wall behind it. There's even a little bit of residue left over."

"Morgan," Emily calls out.

"Let me call you back." Derek hangs up the phone and walks over to Emily who is on the small landing on the stairs. "What is it?"

"I found something on here, too."

"What would he try to hang on this part of the wall?" he asks.

"Well, from here, I have an unobstructed view of the second floor and down the stairs."

"It's the same thing down here. You can see the entire entrance." A light bulb went off in his head. "Cameras. He put up cameras."

You, Spencer, and Hotch head over to her house once Derek and Emily request your presence. He quickly explains the discovery of the holes and the theory of the cameras.

"We think this is what he's using to spy on his victims. They're small, they're cheap, and they're easily hidden behind photos, books, and plants. The footage they record can then be transmitted anywhere to a website of your choice and even your cell phone. He can toggle between cameras to see everything that's happening in the house."

"How many did you find here?"

"Five. Upstairs, downstairs, bedroom, and even the bath."

"A ruse might get him in the door but it doesn't buy him enough time to put five of these up."

"Right. That's why we think he starts with one camera facing the front door. That tells him when it's safe to enter the house, when she comes and goes, when the dog-walker comes, and what the combination to the house is."

"It fits his MO. If he learned their every detail on social networks, he would be just as obsessive in his surveillance," Emily explains. "Once he learns their routine, all he has to do is pick the lock, put up the rest of the cameras, and he got their whole life at his fingertips."

You stand on the landing and look at the front door. The unsub's energy is all over the place. He's been here more than once like Emily theorizes.

"What does he do with the video? Does he keep them?" Spencer asks.

"If he's a voyeur, yes."

"Voyeurs are rarely violent, though. Their excitement comes from spying without the object knowing they're being watched. By abducting his victims, he's removing the outlet of his sexual release. He must have some other agenda with these cameras."

"He might be sharing the footage with other people. We need to have Garcia dig into surveillance and illegal video websites," Hotch says.

Spencer sees a picture on the fridge of Dorris and Nate which he takes down.

"I'm going to take this with us."

"Why?"

"We originally profiled that there wasn't any facial similarity between the victims, but I'm not so sure that's true. I want to compare Dorris' picture with the other victims."

You four head back to the police station where Rossi is talking to Penelope over video chat.

"With the videos the unsub took, it looks like he posted one of them online which I can use to nab him."

"If he puts it on the web, can't you track that back directly to his computer?"

"Normally, yes. Normally, I can get you the network he's using in seconds and get the physical address of his modem. This guy is different. "Do you guys know what a proxy server is?

"It's an internet relay," you say from behind Rossi who jumps slightly at your presence.

"Precisely. Kids use them to get around blocked sites. Now, usually, one proxy is plenty but this piece of work is using dozens of proxy servers. He's bounced his signal off of China, North Korea, Russia, and South Africa."

"Garcia, can you trace him back to Boise?" Hotch asks.

"Of course, I can. That's exactly what I'm doing but time is the unfortunate ingredient I need." Something comes across her computer that you can't see. "It looks like one of the proxy servers archived what he was streaming on the night of Dorris' disappearance."

"Can we see it?"

"Pulling it up now." Penelope's video chat moves to the left of the screen and another screen pops up on the right so you can still see her and watch the video at the same time. The unsub is wearing a ski mask to hide his identity as he enters her house. He immediately types the code into the alarm panel to disable the alarm before it goes off. He takes something out of his pocket just as Bruno walks up to him. "Oh, please don't hurt the doggie."

He doesn't. He feeds it a treat and lets it out of the house. Now that he's alone, he slowly treks up the stairs as if he is making a show for himself.

"Well, Prentiss and Morgan were right. He knows the house, and the dog knows him. How many trips inside the house would that take? A dozen?"

The camera changes the angle to show the entire upstairs floor and the stairs. He reaches the top of the stairs and heads to Dorris' bedroom. The camera switches the angle so that it looks like it's a POV camera.

"See that? The camera's attached to him. It's his point of view so he can relive it over and over again," you say.

The unsub grabs Dorris' throat and starts strangling her. She immediately wakes up and starts struggling but the unsub has a deathly grip on her. Penelope immediately looks away from the screen, not wanting to see that.

"Can someone tell me when it's over?"

"Not yet." When Dorris takes her last breath, the camera changes to one he stashed in her bedroom. "Okay, he's done." Penelope turns back around to watch the unsub fix her hair like he's caring for her. He wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "He's tender to her. She means more to him as a corpse than as a living person."

"Garcia, we need to find the unsub's network. Even if it's a rough area, it'll help narrow the geographic profile."

"Sir, that's what I'm trying to figure out. There is something else kind of huge you need to know about." She goes into the code of the video and shows a piece of the code outlined in red. "Do you see this line of code there?"

"Yeah."

"It allows the user admin, and in this case, the unsub, to set up a chat room. People were watching this on the night of the murder."

"We thought he was posting these after the fact. He's not. He wants people to experience it with him. He wants an audience. He has fans."

x

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