#I told my mom and all to make sure that happens when I die
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Fuck it ill answer all of them in order
01: hah, no.
02: my cat
03: yup
04: Oh, very
05: Single
06: Im not picky
07: One single buttery round cracker
08: hah, no.
09: not anymore
10: hmm.. has to be several years ago now
11: yup.
12: Longer, even, just to prove that I could.
13: I hate several people.
14: I miss everyone.
15: Several!
16: My stomach hurts but my spirits are high. Im being very brave.
17: nope
18: Not as much as I used to be, but yes.
19: Nah, im good how I am. Things happened how they happened and theyre going to keep happening, so theres no point in meddling.
20: never snogged a day in my life
21: Exist and find joy in the moment. I never plan anything.
22: Nope
23: Nope, I only wear clipons.
24: uhhhh being gay.
25: A few, yes. My friends from elementary school (Primary for the brits)
26: Im not craving anything at the moment
27: I cant imagine so, im not desirable.
28: I can imagine so. My first bf was always flirtimg with anoother guy in front of me and when I told him it made me uncomfortable he just said "Dont worry about it" and we never spoke of it again. I think that counts.
29: Cannot confirm or deny, but its likely.
30: My feet kind of hurt.
31: I hope so.
32: Yellow. Pastel yellow, specifically.
33: Who can say for sure. I cant self-diagnose that kind of thing.
34: Trying to kill my mom in a fit of rage, but nothing I did had any effect on her and she talked down to me the entire time which only made the fit worse.
35: I dont remember.
36: Maybe. I dont like holding grudges, too much effort on my end.
37: for me, forget.
38: Who knows, its barely started.
39: probably either teen or preteen.
40: No.
51: (Fuck it ig we doing 50s now) Fetucinni alfredo
52: Probably not any reason higher than just the way the world is. There is no divine purpose and life is what you make of it.
53: I took my cat to the bathroom and gave her a piggy-back ride back into my room as was her will.
54: Nothing is black and white, but you'd better have a damn good reason or you get put into the pit.
55: Oh, very.
56: Like one or two at most and I did not do well.
57: Nope. In fact, I dislike the idea of having this one true love tied to you by fate. It takes all the choice out of the relationship. Either be with someone the strings of time have chosen for you, or be alone forever. Thats horrifying.
58: Snow and rain. Makes me sleepy
59: Love it.
60: I dont really care either way
61: Nope. I dislike that pet name even tho I use it personally for my cats, but it feels a little bit to demeaning to be used for a lover since in my experience its always been used from a position of power.
62: Living and being free to live.
63: I dont really like my name but I dont have anything I actually do like to change it to. I guess I just dont like being percieved.
64: I would rather kill myself actually.
65: God, I wish.
66: yes. Mostly. For the most part.
67: hermm... The owner of a warrior cats long term rp server.
68: I dont remember, I tend to say extremely deep sounding things at random. Im the stupidest bitch alive but it lets me spout sage wisdom once in a while.
69: No. Love is what you make of it.
70: I would die or kill for anyone I actually care about no questions asked.
70 horrible questions ... Fuck it
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?
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When I die I want to be buried in the warm earth so plants and trees and moss and tiny flowers can grow from me and all over me and I can once again become part of the earth that I came from <33
#just a desire#I really want to be buried like that#I told my mom and all to make sure that happens when I die#coquette girly#my txt post#im just a girl#just silly thoughts#girlblogger#girlblogging#this is what makes us girls#just girly things#girlhood#love being a girl#hell is a teenage girl#aesthetic#soft girl#this is a girlblog#fairycore#warm and cozy#it would#be so warm and nice and calm and peaceful tho:)
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sorry. still thinking
#its just been on my mind a lot more especially since talking about it with my mom in california she told me a lot i didnt know about#bc i was like 13 when it all initially happened i barely knew/was told what was going on. we just all saw him nearly dead on his floor#and then suddenly there was an ambulance and he was gone#and then he went to one of the city hospitals hours away and my mom was gone most of the time for months to be with him#and i knew he nearly died and was told later it was bc he got hiv but like that was basically it? and i knew it was from drug usage#but she told me basically everything this time. and it was just a lot#apparently i have a group of students from a texan medical college to thank for him being alive. bc they did an experimental thing on him#after his original doctor had given up hope and told my mom he was just going to die#we're not sure exactly what they did i guess it was some kind of medicine of course but like. anyway whatever it was it worked#and the thing i remember most. was my mom saying 'at least that makes it so he can help as many people as he's hurt.'#bc my brother just...has a complicated past and the things leading up to his near-death were especially#and apparently the test is gonna be in some medical journal probably. im guessing its what helped them confirm their experiment works#anyways. im just glad hes alive. but its a lot to think about
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One of the scariest things that ever happened to me was when I was working at Red Robin. I was around eighteen and I worked as a host. I answered phones, opened doors, and seated people. The job wasn’t strenuous.
One night, the phone rang. It was fully dark outside. My shift was almost over and my mom was picking me up because I still didn’t have a car of my own. She was waiting in the parking lot when the store phone rang.
I picked up with a chirpy greeting and slammed into a horror movie when a gruff voice informed me that he could see me. He had a shotgun pointed into the building and I’d see brain matter sprayed across the walls if I didn’t do what he said. My brain froze in blind panic. I couldn’t believe this terrible thing was really happening to me.
The restaurant was all windows, visible on all sides by the parking lot except for the kitchen. He could be looking in from any direction, shotgun leveled on customers, or coworkers, or me. “Do you hear me?” he asked.
I stared in blank terror, not answering until he yelled, “Do you fucking hear me?!”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you have a cellphone?”
“Yes,” I was so transfixed with fear it hadn’t occurred to me to lie.
“Give me the number.”
My mind suddenly whirred into panicky circles. I couldn’t give some crazy man my phone number, I needed to do something else but I couldn’t make up a number either because my head was pounding with adrenaline. My frightened head latched onto the only other number I had memorized.
I rattled off my mothers phone number.
“You’re going to hang up the phone, walk to the back dumpster with your cell phone in your left hand, and I’m going to call you. No one has to die tonight.”
I stood shaking with the phone pressed to my ear.
“Hang up.”
I hung up the phone. I was trembling, but I knew there was no windows in the kitchen. If I got to the kitchen I’d be safe, and that’s where he told me to go so I could make it there if I just held it together.
I made it to dry storage and met one of the assistant managers exiting. I broke down in sobs and started garbling in incoherent fear. He looked utterly flabbergasted by this, as I had the reputation of being the most level headed of the host staff.
He asked me to wait at the bar. He rushed off to try to finish what he was doing so he could deal with me. I was too scared to leave the kitchen hallway; I huddled as close the end of the bar as I could get without leaving the safety of the wall.
I was sobbing when the bartender looked over and saw me. She gasped in outrage and had me into the managers office in a blink, arms around me asking what was wrong, what was wrong.
I was finally in an enclosed room with a locking door. The gibbering in my head calmed to the point that I relayed the whole thing to the bartender. Near the end, the manager returned. He had my mother in tow.
She was furious, hearing the tail end of my death threat call. Apparently, while sitting in the parking lot she’d received the call I had been too scared to get.
The man had asked if she was me, and she was instantly combative. She didn’t tell him anything, just demanded to know, “Who’s This?” He hung up.
He’d called back once just saying my name and she’d angrily asserted, “No.” He hung up.
My mom was furious and confused and marched into the building. Part of her anger was that I’d given away her phone number. She’s a violently private person. My manager had been making sure the servers knew they didn’t have a host when my mom burst in on a mission of vengeance. He quickly escorted my rampaging mother to the back room and they were both in time to hear I’d received a death threat.
My mom rounded on my manager demanding to know why they hadn’t called the police and he pleaded that this was the first he was hearing about it. The police were called.
My mom and I waited in a booth while my nerves jangled with anxiety. No one had checked the cars outside for shooters and now I was sitting here exposed, surrounded by windows. She tried not to be mad about me giving her number given my emotional state, but she wasn’t thrilled with me.
A police office showed up an hour later. I answered her questions and my manager asked if I wanted anything. Everyone at the table looked astonished when I requested a root beer float. But by god, I wanted one.
The officer assured me that most events like this did not happen on site, that the caller wasn’t here. I didn’t believe the dowdy woman sitting across from me had even bothered to do a security sweep but I drank my float and tried to forget the darkness of the night staring in from all those windows. The clear line of sight on me from every side. The image of brain splattering against the glass divider. I drank more root beer.
I got a day off to calm down. On closing shifts after that my heart would pound when the phone rang and the bartenders all agreed to be on phone duty for me. A private investigator came in one day and I recited the whole event again. He’d been hired by the company as Red Robin’s nation wide had been targeted by the same caller.
The investigator told me he was working on it. That dozens of other businesses across the country had been called. He told me that if I’d given the caller my real number I would have been subjected to sexual assault over the phone.
I was starting to feel stupid. Everyone I told was so sure that he’d never even been present. That I’d never been in danger. The only thing I could console myself with was that many other girls had given him their number, but I hadn’t. I started forcing myself to pick the phone back up on closing shifts.
A few months later I was notified that he’d been arrested. The private investigator hired by a fast food restaurant had done what the police force hadn’t and tracked him down to a small town in the Midwest. My testimony was one of dozens used to convict him and for a while I received checks for 0.23 cents as reparations for the mental distress.
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I faked my engagement for free cake samples and got sued after I ran away AIO | haechan
pairing: haechan x baker!reader
genre: comedy, fluff, rivals (?) to lovers (?)
warning(s): quite possibly you will be inflicted with cringe, shameless scamming, mild swearing, one (1) innuendo
words: 5.4k
song recs: santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, too late for chocolate? by kana hanazawa, like a raspberry by 宇宙ネコ子, honey by kara
a/n: ty to my queens lana and cat for gassing up this dumpster fire i wrote in a caffeine haze while watching my bf die every 20 secs in ds3. the initial plot was going to be far longer and more fleshed out but i fear i'm past my prime ( ._. )" i still hope you guys have fun with this one!! i got to play around with hallmark comedy far more this time, so overall it was a fun time writing <3 happy new year, my lovely mooncakes!!
part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab <3
r/AmITheAsshole
u/YeastMode6969 • 3h
I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?
I (24F, small bakery owner) faked my engagement to get free cake samples at my rival bakery but the employee said I needed my fiance to be there. I panicked and grabbed the first guy to come through the bakery door after me. Turns out he’s not just some random customer. To top it off, he was ridiculously attractive even though he pissed me off every two sentences. I had a panic attack, told myself it’s totally not my fault, and moved on by baking fourteen cakes over the weekend. I thought I got away with it, but three days later, I got an email from him—he’s now suing me for “emotional damages” and “theft of pastries.” Am I doomed, or is this just karma with extra frosting?
⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 2,701 Comments
bun_theory0222 • 2h
INFO: Did you at least try the samples? Were they worth the lawsuit? We’re all dying to know here.
➥ Reply ⥣ 3.2k ⥥
muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h
nah cuz why is he suing when he CLEARLY wants to flirt??? this man is embarrassing but so are you. somebody matched ur freak <3
➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥
soggywaffle0205 • 6m
YTA why can’t this shit happen to me. AT LEAST I would commit to the bit.
➥ Reply ⥣ 420 ⥥
cerealfordinner0323 • 2h
Bro sued you just to slide into your life again. He’s not slick, and neither are you. Good luck with that wedding cake.
➥ Reply ⥣ 9,011 ⥥
. . .
If you could hop a few steps to the right, feign unconsciousness, and climb right into the active fireplace, it could potentially make everything okay. For you, that is. Not for the poor bakery employees who would have to call the cops.
“I’m sure he’s a handsome one!” The girl behind the counter giggles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “You’re- you’re so gorgeous!”
Setting aside the fact that most gorgeous women you know end up with malformed gargoyles, your current predicament is almost equally sinister. What started as an innocuous process to gain free wedding samples (in other words, a scam) has led to a question that should be obvious but completely escaped your mind following your trailing success.
“We’ll need to have you come in with your fiance for the free wedding cake samplers. Is he around?”
Is he around?! Boy, you sure hope so. Because now you’re also frantically looking around with the employee after you blurted out another lie: “He’s going to be here soon!”
When did you turn into a compulsive liar? You’re not sure if your mom would be proud of you for being so good at nabbing free food, or disappointed that you’re a filthy liar. After all, she did tell the buffet employees you were under 10 all the way till you were 14. So, really, you’re not the source of the problem! You brush your festive red skirt of invisible crumbs, trying to busy yourself.
The cafe itself is well decorated for Christmas—a silver reindeer bores holes into your head from by the front door, a small Christmas tree stands at the center that’s a little emaciated but the cute Sanrio ornaments in Santa hats make up for it, and most importantly, a beautiful Mont Blanc cake sparkles from atop the glass counter. (Seriously, why didn’t you think of this? Your own bakery is all sparkles and no play.)
You move out of the way of other customers, and casually glance at the source of your awe and joy. Powdered sugar dusts the top as idyllic snow, covering the sugared cranberries and sugared chestnuts, not dent in them under the white fondant star. The base of the cake is tied with an edible red ribbon, completing the seasonal aesthetic of it. A sigh rests momentarily upon your lips before it escapes.
You love Mont Blanc cakes, but you never quite get it right. That’s your biggest failure as an up-and-coming baker, and such is the reason for your unhinged serial sampling scam. You swear it started off as a search for inspiration in a creative rut but before you knew it, a lie had spilled from your eclair-sweetened lips, and another, and another.
It is at this point that you briefly consider bolting for the door. Tibet is great around this time of the year. Maybe if you convert to a monk lifestyle and atone for your sins, you’ll be granted a pardon in the form of delicious sweets. Before you can make your escape, however, the front door jingles, and in strides a sight unbelievably reassuring. A man with caramel hair enters, who might as well be wrapped in a giant red ribbon and seated atop a snow-white horse in golden ornaments.
It’s a Christmas miracle. Hallelujah! They still apply to you.
His smile—soft and sweet as meringue hearts—lights up the room as he inhales the warm, sugary air of the bakery. You’re hit with the vaguest sense of familiarity. He might be one of the few customers you get these days. For a moment, you falter. Are you really going to victimize this stranger?
Yes. Yes, you are. The situation is dire.
“Hi darling!” You exclaim within earshot of the employee, before lowering your voice. “Could you help me out a little here?”
The man blinks, dazed for whatever reason. “Uh… sure?”
“Okay, then follow along and ask questions later,” you reply, and loop your arm through his gingerly. The touch of his fuzzy winter coat makes you relax a little. It is chocolate-colored, with beige fluff around the collar. Not now, you think to yourself, You need to stop thinking about sweets for one goddamn moment.
“Here he is,” you laugh sheepishly as you bring the man forward. Gosh, what in the heavens are you doing? You didn’t even ask his name.
The employee stares, jaw agape. What’s with the reaction? He’s not that hot.
“O-oh,” she responds. “That’s quite the surprise. I never knew. Congratulations, sir!”
You turn to look at him. He simply scratches his chin with a sheepish smile, and manages to respond with a “Thanks, Kimi.”
He must be a regular, you think. Oh, (Name), what did you get yourself into? You’re just gonna have to read his name off his coffee order first.
“We have a selection of samples for our wedding cake choices,” the girl, Kimi, moves to the far side of the counter, offering a small menu card to the two of you. “I know you’re not a big fan of wedding cakes, Mr. Lee, but the latest tiramisu flavors should suit your tastes, no?”
Just how close are they?! You chew on your lip and try to calm your depraved little heart.
“Well,” he responds, thinking for a second, “I actually hadn’t thought this far. What do you think, honey?”
He turns to you with a radiant smile, but you sense a hint of mischief. You don’t have time to think of that though—so you just change the topic.
“Actually, do you have a Mont Blanc flavor? I’ve always had trouble perfecting it myself.”
Truth be told, that ‘honey’ had flowed from his lips and struck you straight in the heart. He’s not too bad to look at, you think now. His tousled hair catches the light with a playful sheen, framing his face and accentuating his disbelieving smile, while his fluffy coat adds a cozy touch to his charming, boyish demeanor. If you were to overthink a little, you’d find a hint of mischief in his voice. Alas, you’re a simple girl who only overthinks sweet treats, not boys.
“You bake?” He blurts, before his ears turn red from realization.
Kimi shoots him a puzzled look and your breath hitches in your throat. Was the miracle an idiot in disguise?
“I mean, uh, gosh, you make me so nervous, honey.” He looks like he’s trying his very best to ace an exam he never studied for. “I meant to ask if you're going to bake.. today? Don’t look at me like that.”
Maybe you should’ve picked a candied apple and prayed that a witch had poisoned it. You can’t even force out a smile at that pathetic save.
“You’re a lucky man, Mister,” Kimi jabs, a look of distrust in her eyes before they flash to you. “I’m afraid Miss (Name) in a wedding dress would make me drop dead at the altar.”
“Oh, you- you flatter me,” you choke out, “I promise you wedding gowns aren’t my thing at all. Besides, you’d look beautiful in white yourself.”
Why is she so into this wedding conversation? How close are these two? You’re not sure how to react, and neither do you know how this man is going to explain your mysterious disappearance the next time he visits the bakery. You’re sure as hell not going to continue the act beyond this. It’s time you retired from this scam business. You’re not even sure how you’ll talk your way out of this with the man, currently engaged in small talk with Kimi.
And— is he blushing?! Does he have something going on with the girl—Kimi? Did you just ruin something? Your heart tightens a little, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to the floor, head in your hands.
You laugh awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. When you open your mouth, you are interrupted.
“Actually, Miss, I think I take back what I said about the handsome part,” Kimi jokes, evident disdain sent towards Donghyuck.
Your natural response is a little laugh that leaves before you know it. Maybe, the feelings you sensed were of unrequited resentment. He does have the kind of face that looks like it’s often smacked by girls. No offense to him.
Kimi hands you the first sample (two delicious slices of Mont Blanc) and excuses herself to fetch the rest. The two of you make your way to a booth with the heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced. You might as well be at a funeral.
“So… free samples are that good, huh?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
“I’m Donghyuck, by the way,” he responds with a youthful laugh. “Might I have the honor of knowing my fiance's name?”
“(Name). And stop looking at me like that.”
He lets out a short breath.
“You know, maybe we should’ve pretended it was an arranged marriage.”
“Quite proficient in the scamming business, are you?”
“Oh, you’re better off not knowing my dirty secrets.”
You couldn’t care less about his secrets but the look you shoot at him is certainly dirty.
He opens his mouth but you interrupt him to absolve yourself first. “Listen, I don’t do this often. And I’ll have you know it’s nothing personal. Well, not against you. The owner of this place maybe.”
Donghyuck blinks. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all for being a hater with my fiance.”
You stare at him, not impressed.
“Sorry.”
“Okay, so this started a month or two ago. I had been working tirelessly, testing recipe after recipe, trying to perfect the Mont Blanc cake. It was my dream to make it iconic, you know? But before I could even settle on the perfect combination of flavors, some smug bastard opens a bakery right across from me. And what does he have as his specialty? Why, the Mont Blanc cake of course. Seasonal! Cute, elaborate new decor every two weeks! Just how rich is he? I bet he doesn't even bother to create his own recipes. This guy didn’t just steal my idea, he’s turned my passion into some overpriced, generic trend!”
You heave, tired from the onslaught of frustration. Chewing on your lower lip, a pout naturally makes its way onto your face, and so do more complaints.
“And that’s not all, okay? I never see him at the bakery. I refrain from entering my competitors' establishments unless I greet them in person. But this asshole is just never there! What, is he too good to work at his own bakery? Too good to grace us lowly bakers with a visit? How could he just swoop in and steal my signature item?”
Donghyuck listens to your rant with intent, cheek resting against his palm. He even looks a little ridiculously charmed right now.
“Wait… so you’re the infamous Free Cake Phantom everyone’s talking about?” He gasps.
You’ve finally turned to your poor, neglected Mont Blanc sample, just for your heart to jump out. “What?”
“Just kidding. Your secret is safe,” he says, digging into the cake with infuriating nonchalance. “But hey, you’ve got good taste. This Mont Blanc though? It’s my personal recipe.”
Your fork halts halfway to your mouth. “Your recipe? What, you work here or something? And, no offense, but it’s overwhipped.”
If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny. The man looks more like a confectionary than a confectioner. There’s no way he works here. He’s probably some jobless guy drifting from bakery to bakery on early Saturday mornings.
His jaw drops. “Overwhipped? Are you kidding me?”
You wave the fork at him like it’s a weapon. “Chestnut puree shouldn’t have the texture of mousse. It’s called finesse, Mr. Lee.”
Before he can respond, Kimi returns with another tray, and you slip back into character, placing your hand on Donghyuck’s. “Thank you,” you coo at her. “I can’t wait to share all these flavors at our wedding.”
Donghyuck stiffens slightly at the unexpected contact, but he recovers quickly, plastering on the fakest grin known to man. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
Kimi laughs. “You’re such a lovely couple. When’s the big day?”
You freeze, and so does Donghyuck. For a moment, neither of you has an answer.
“Oh, we’re still, uh, deciding,” you blurt, glancing at him for backup.
“Yeah, we’re thinking spring,” he adds smoothly. “Cherry blossoms. Very romantic.”
“Y-yes. Maybe the Raspberry Rose should be in the winner’s spot then.”
As Kimi bows politely and walks away again, Donghyuck leans in to whisper. “Should I book the honeymoon now, or…?”
“Don’t push your luck,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs.
He makes a pained sound, but recovers quickly.
The second flavor is dubbed “Marble Eclipse”, a decadent blend of rich chocolate and vanilla, perfectly balanced with a luscious buttercream frosting. You try to focus on the taste, but Donghyuck’s smug grin as he watches you take a bite is more distracting than you’d like to admit. You’re not easily flustered, not by men. Unfortunately, he would have been the exact type you’d have tried to nab in college.
You shake your head. Focus, (Name), you think to yourself, You’re in the enemy’s lair right now!
“So… I might as well come clean,” Donghyuck says with a serious tone, right after you’ve taken a bite. You pause in horror. What arcane knowledge is he going to use for your humiliation this time?
“I visit your bakery often, and I must say your selection is just as good, if not better.”
You exhale.
“Oh, it’s better alright,” you retort, before realizing the unwarranted passion in your voice. You compose yourself. “I mean, maybe their Mont Blanc is… a solid competitor.”
Donghyuck laughs, clearly amused by the bashfulness on your face.
“Wait, are you patronizing me?”
“Of course not!” He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt.
“I think the difference is that this one keeps up with the youth.” He waves his fork about, explaining his point further. “Everyone loves new, shiny things. Cycle those as much as possible. Have you ever considered holding blind box events with your cupcakes? I’m sure the kids would love to find out which flavor of panda bear cupcake they got—matcha, my personal favorite, or coconut cream, or… god forbid, chocolate mint. Ugh. Have you considered removing that from the menu? Anyway, that shouldn’t take too much time and money, right?”
The youth? What is he, forty? However, however, the look on his face as he describes your own baked goods to you is enough to make you intensely flustered. Has this man visited so often? And you never noticed him? How could you miss that easy-going smile?
A familiar figure saves you from whatever awkward, garbled response you were going to muster.
Despite Kimi’s arrival, Donghyuck has a hard time taking his eyes off you. Lashes swaying with each flicker of his eyes over your face, he’s hardly taking a bit of the delicious marble cake, in fact. What, have you got something on your face?
Kimi apologizes profusely before you can say anything to greet her.
“There’s only one slice prepared for the Tiramisu Dream sample,” she explains. “I’m so sorry about this. Would you mind sharing this one? I apologize again.”
“No worries, Kimi,” Donghyuck responds, laughing a little. You shake your head and reassure it’s alright too.
Anyway, that slice is going to be yours. You’re ready to pry it from his cold, dead hands.
To your surprise, though, he shoots a friendly smile at you.
“Want the first bite?”
“May I?” You ask, just to be sure.
“By all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “After all, what’s mine is yours, fiance.”
You swear, if he calls you that one more time, he’s going to end up in the cake display.
Kimi stares at the two of you blankly for a moment. It instantly flusters you and Donghyuck both, so much so that the idiot digs his fork into the cake slice and holds it up to your lips with a soft ‘ah’ —and so much so that you actually accept it graciously.
And all that only for Kimi to not even notice as she excused her way back to the counter. So now you’re just two idiots deep in your romantic charades. Donghyuck clears his throat, too late to cover his coral-tinted cheeks and ears. You’re certain you wear a similar expression.
“You’re- you’re so weird,” you jab, unable to come up with an insult higher than middle school grade.
“What, you wanted me to do airplanes too?!”
“Take that fork and drive it through your tongue, will you?”
“Woah, woah, no need for violence, Miss (Name). Peace and Love.”
Unexpectedly, it makes you break character into unbound laughter. The weariness of the act and the silliness of the whole situation leaks into the sound, and it’s enough to make Donghyuck join in. For passersby, you are just a couple already past your third, fifth and seventh dates.
“Any comments for the tiramisu cake?” Donghyuck asks, grinning ear to ear.
You catch your breath, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, I have a comment: who puts this much cocoa powder on top? Are you trying to choke your customers?”
“Awh, and I thought you were gonna be nice,” he whines, “Your smile is just so… inviting.”
As if on cue, he chokes on the cocoa powder.
“I still like it,” you continue. “I’d just do it better.”
“I have the utmost confidence in that.”
Gosh, his smile is nauseating—too bright, too easy, like he’s actually enjoying this. Maybe he’s a rising actor, and you’re the one being hoodwinked. After all, who looks at someone like that on a first meeting?
A moment passes, and suddenly his thumb is at the corner of your lips, brushing off the cocoa powder with a touch so casual it feels anything but. “Got it,” he murmurs, and the air between you shifts, warm and oddly heavy.
“So, how do you know all this?” you ask, changing the topic. You’re forcing yourself to focus, to breathe.
He leans back, a small laugh slipping out like he’s grateful for the lifeline. “You- uh- you could say I’m a connoisseur of pastries,” he offers, his voice lighter now. “I like to sample the best around town—just, you know, legally. I even take notes of my favorites.”
He gestures towards you, and you scoff.
The words settle between you as you toy with the edge of your skirt, smoothing the fabric down over your lap. There’s something about the way he speaks—so casual, so effortless—that needles at you. For a man so annoyingly confident, he sure seems relieved to have redirected the conversation.
Your hand grazes the tiny snowman buttons on your cardigan, tracing the cold plastic absentmindedly. His gaze flickers to the movement, then back to your face, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. You don’t know what’s more embarrassing—getting outed as the Cake Thief or the fact that he’s bound to know he flusters you.
You tilt your head, giving him a skeptical look. “How professional of you.”
The bite in your tone is softening, and you don’t like it one bit.
He holds up his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey, it’s an art. Someone’s gotta appreciate it, right?”
The faint chatter of other patrons fills the room, but his presence sharpens the moment, making it feel like it’s just the two of you. For a fleeting second, you catch yourself wondering what kind of person would take notes on pastries for fun. It’s so bizarrely specific, so utterly unnecessary—and yet, so like him.
His smile deepens, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teases.
You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping the traitorous grin threatening to break through. You refuse to indulge him, even as you feel the faintest crack in your defenses.
"Maybe,” you say, finally.
He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning back against his chair with a satisfied air, as if he’s won something. You glance at the tray, willing yourself to focus on anything else.
How awkward. How warm.
You spot a napkin fluttering off the table, carried by a sudden draft from the door. Instinctively, you step out of your chair to grab it, but Donghyuck beats you to it, scooping it up with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.
“Your knight in shining armor,” he declares dramatically, holding it out like a trophy.
“More like my nuisance in sugar-stained armor,” you retort, snatching it from his hand.
He laughs, unabashed. “Ah, so sharp. Yet here you are, sharing cake with said nuisance. Life is full of mysteries.”
“I’m just here for the cake,” you deadpan, dusting your hands off.
For a second, his smile falters—not in hurt but in sheer disbelief. He tilts his head, studying you with an incredulous expression, and you suddenly feel like a frog under a magnifying glass.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, almost to himself, his voice low but still playful.
“Get what?” you ask, genuinely confused.
Donghyuck presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. He steps closer, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of chestnut cream. “I mean, I could spell it out for you, but that might ruin the fun.”
“Spell what out?” you press, a little flustered now.
He straightens with a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, you airhead. Absolutely nothing. Is your head full of cotton candy, by any chance?”
You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, he’s already pulling his chair back, resuming his seat with a sigh.
“Mont Blanc, Marble Eclipse, and Tiramisu on the first date,” he states, deep in thought. “Maybe Matcha Lemon, Lavender Peach, and White Chocolate on the second… Perhaps a Red Velvet and a Strawberry Shortcake before you realize I literally own this place?”
You feel the heat intensify on your cheeks. You almost miss the last part, clouded by the implications of the rest of his words. He… wants to go on more dates with you? Was this a date all along? You’ve been swindled into having fun with a man somehow. He even knows the ins and outs of a baker’s life. And he’s charming in an oddball sort of way. You shouldn’t be feeling solidarity with this weirdo. But then again, somehow, his laugh is very… endearing.
Wait a minute.
“You- you really own the place?!” A scream dies in your throat.
Donghyuck looks positively taken aback. “So you actually weren’t aware?!”
“What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know?! You described yourself as a connoisseur of pastries. I thought you were some kind of freelance failure so I didn’t pry!”
“Excuse me?!”
“Well, either that or you’re unbelievably rich. But then you don’t look it. Your sleeves have flour and oil stains on them, and your shoes are all dusty too, and there’s gold flakes in your hair—okay, how did I miss this?”
“Geez, way to judge someone by their looks. I’m not taking that from the local tart snatcher.”
The retort barely registers because your brain is too busy replaying the words “I own this place.” The realization hits, and before you can think better of it, the chair screeches back as you bolt upright.
“Wait, where are you—” Donghyuck’s voice is cut off by your shrill, mortified “Bye!” as you make a beeline for the door, leaving behind a very startled staff and a half-empty tray of cakes. Immediately after your exit, you let out a shriek.
What the hell are you doing?!
Your face burns as you speed-walk down the street, each step punctuated by the memory of your impulsive retreat. You must have cast your senses away at that moment, like some wide-eyed fool in a fairy tale, almost charmed by that silly man and his absurd little quirks. It’s not your fault, of course—it’s his, with his flour-dusted sleeves, that stupidly endearing laugh, and the way he talked about pastries like they were a love language. What was wrong with him?! you think, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was your awkwardness and runaway theatrics that had caused the scene. You’d blame it on sugar overload if it weren’t for the nagging realization that maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten under your skin, and the fact that you deserved it.
. . .
You hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Not after your embarrassing getaway. But three days later, you’re staring at an email with the subject line: "Notice of Legal Action for Unauthorized Sampling."
You open it with trembling fingers, only to find what can only be described as the world’s most dramatic—and definitely fake—lawsuit.
Your jaw drops as you scroll through the email. He’d even attached a fake case number: #CAKE-404-NO-FUN.
The body of the email was littered with ridiculous legalese. Phrases like "egregious acts of confectionery negligence" and "failure to properly appreciate artisanal craftsmanship" were scattered between absurdly specific accusations.
There is a diagram. An actual diagram. Arrows pointing to "Exhibit A" (the Mont Blanc) and "Exhibit B" (the empty spot on the tray), annotated with notes like "victim of hasty consumption" and "left to fend for itself."
And then, at the very bottom, there it was—the pièce de résistance:
“This suit may be settled by one (1) heartfelt apology and one (1) coffee date at the aforementioned bakery. Should you require legal counsel, I suggest bringing your A-game. I am, after all, a connoisseur of arguments… and pastries. 😉”
You groan, head thunking against the back of your chair. The audacity. The drama. The fuckass emojis.
This man is getting to you.
Your first reaction is, of course, panic. Your second? Rage. And by the time you storm into the bakery at ass o’clock before it even opens, Donghyuck is waiting for you, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. (Which he does, actually.)
He’s propped on his elbows, his posture easy and unhurried, as if he’s been expecting you. The black apron around his waist is slightly askew, and his beige T-shirt bears faint streaks of flour across the chest, a testament to an already busy morning. His fluffy brown hair is an artful mess, the kind that looks unintentional but infuriatingly perfect, with a few errant strands curling over his forehead. There’s a streak of something golden—sugar, maybe?—on his cheek, catching the light as he tilts his head to regard you with an expression that’s equal parts curious and smug.
“You’re early,” he remarks, his voice low and teasing, as though he isn’t the root of all evil.
“You think this is funny?” you demand, shoving your phone in his face.
Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “Hilarious, actually. Did it get your attention?”
“You can’t just send someone a fake legal notice!”
“Worked, didn’t it?” He shrugs, leaning back with infuriating calmness. “Besides, you owed me an explanation for your Houdini act. You know, poor Kimi had to clear your tray. She almost cried.”
“She did not!”
As if on cue, Kimi pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, she absolutely did. It was tragic,” she deadpans before ducking back in.
You groan, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. “You’re unbelievable.”
Donghyuck leans back, smug as ever, and gestures to the email still open on your phone. “Unbelievable or resourceful? Let’s review: I sent a single, harmless message—full of creativity and wit, I might add—and look where we are.”
“At me wanting to strangle you?”
“At you running right to me,” he corrects, his grin widening. “What, were you worried?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap. “I’m here because—”
You stop, realizing you don’t have a decent answer. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I took you seriously.”
“Oh, you absolutely took me seriously.” He nods sagely. “I saw the panic in your eyes. Admit it: for a second, you thought you were going to have to pay me a hundred grand or grovel at my feet.”
“I- ugh- fuck you!” is all you can muster, stepping forward without thinking.
He mirrors your movement, the space between you shrinking by degrees.
“But seriously, you ghosted me, and I had to get creative. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured the legal drama might get my point across.”
“What point?”
“That I wanted to see you again.” The words come out so easily, so matter-of-fact, you don’t know how to respond. When you finally glance up, he’s watching you closely, his expression uncharacteristically sincere.
“Just because you’re all cute and covered in flour like the star of some indie chef movie doesn’t mean you get to toy with me.”
“Ha! You’re presumptuous—despite all the fine details on me you seem to observe.” He leans in. “But guess what, I’m a greedy bastard that loves attention. So, look closer.”
And you look anywhere but his lips, too pink and too plush, as your face grows hotter than a convection oven on broil.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, staring resolutely at the display of cakes. “That hardly counts as details.”
“Details,” he echoes, his grin growing wider. “Like the way I look at you?”
“You’re just a flirt,” you mutter.
He gasps, mock-offended, and gestures dramatically to the kitchen. “Kimi, did you hear that? I’m just a flirt!”
“You said it, not me,” Kimi calls back without missing a beat.
You laugh despite yourself, the sound surprising you. And Donghyuck doesn’t miss it. His gaze softens, the teasing edge in his voice dropping slightly. “There it is. I knew you could laugh without running away.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.”
For a moment, the air shifts, the humor giving way to something quieter. Donghyuck’s gaze lingers—not on your awkward posture or flushed cheeks, but on you, as though trying to piece together something he doesn’t quite understand.
“What?” you finally ask, defensive.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but there’s a small, genuine smile now. “Just... you’re such a fidgety person.”
“Are you trying to shell out an insult?”
“No, I mean, I always see you scuttling here and there. Always on the move. Always observing, but never stopping long enough to be seen. You just… don’t seem like someone who takes much time for yourself.”
You blink, caught off guard. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s crossed a line.
“I’m wrong?” he asks, almost sheepishly.
“I—” You pause, unsure of how to respond. “You’re nosy, that’s what you are.”
“That’s a yes,” he decides, grinning again.
Donghyuck chuckles, leaning just a little closer, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. “Tell you what,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ll prove I’m not just nosy. Let me take you out. Somewhere you don’t have to bolt out the door halfway through.”
“You think I’d agree to that?” you retort, though your words lack bite. The proximity is doing something to your brain, and you’re acutely aware of how close he’s leaned in.
His grin is confident and infuriating. “I think you’d be curious enough to say yes.”
Your breath hitches as you realize how little space is left between the two of you, your noses almost brushing. “Woah,” you whisper, trying to play it off, “my mommy warned me about boys like you. All up close and personal with flour in their hair.”
He raises a brow, unrepentant. “Smart woman. But she didn’t tell you we’re pretty good at first dates, did she?”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes, soft but genuine. “Fine,” you say, straightening up and taking a step back before your pulse betrays you further. “But you’re paying. And no weird cakes this time.”
“Deal,” he replies, his smile softer now, more sincere.
And for a moment, you believe it—not just the act, not just the cakes and the banter, but the idea that maybe, somehow, this strange, sugar-dusted series of events has led to something real.
. . .
r/AmITheAsshole
u/YeastMode6969 • 16h
UPDATE: I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?
Fine, you guys were right. We’re dating now. Let’s just say we’ve been filling my cream puffs lately 🫠
Edit: I also got the Mont Blanc recipe!!
⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 3,297 Comments
kimikakes • 13h
KIMI HERE, REPORTING LIVE FROM THE SCENE: they literally argued over frosting consistency for half an hour yesterday. This relationship is built on chaos and croissants.
➥ Reply ⥣ 7.1k ⥥
bun_theory0222 • 2h
Hellooo where are the recipes. Priorities, OP :/
➥ Reply ⥣ 4.1k ⥥
lil_sugar_daddy0813 • 1h
man i was betting on donghyuck dying alone i dont wanna lose my $20
➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥
muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h Give me your money NYEOW ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥
soggywaffle0205 • 6m why are you suddenly a furry ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥
muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h pays the bills ➥ Reply ⥣ 2.7k ⥥
#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#haechan x reader#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#haechan fluff#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 fluff#haechan x you#moonwrites#ok so initially it was way more long drawn bc hyuck was abt to make her do the 12 labors of hercules (bakery ver) to call off that lawsuit#would have been fun but i do not have the energy for it :((#so have toothrotting fluff instead#i know im late by 2 days but my friend went to the er on the 31st and i got piss drunk last night at a party
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Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts
Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?
Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."
The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.
"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.
Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."
That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.
Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.
I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.
Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.
The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).
Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.
Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.
Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.
Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.
Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.
Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.
"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.
Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.
Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.
#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#agathario#agatha harkness#rio vidal#tv: agatha all along#aaa meta#we actually got a bunch of great things y'all
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oh, you didn't know?
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 1.6k
Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.
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Steve has never had the best timing.
When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.
There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.
Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”
“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.
“Oh my god–”
“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”
Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.
Well fuck.
“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”
You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”
The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.
He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.
Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.
So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.
Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.
You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.
After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.
Steve’s plan was foolproof.
Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.
However, Steve really should’ve known better.
His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.
There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.
“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.
You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.
“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”
There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.
At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.
A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.
Then, late January, your birthday came along.
This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.
You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.
Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.
Except that isn’t what happened.
What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.
“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.
Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”
You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.
Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.
He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.
He’s miserable.
Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.
You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.
The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”
Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”
He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.
“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.
“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”
This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.
“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”
Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”
At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”
“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?”
“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”
You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”
Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”
“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.
God, he is so stupidly in love with you.
He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.
The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.
Then, a thought occurs to Steve.
“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”
“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”
Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.
And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.
Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.
-
⌑ writing masterlist
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x fem#stranger things#m's writing#fluff#valentines day#enjoyyyyyy <3#mans just wants a gf#bless him
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I Need You | Part 7
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8
Author’s Note: I am LOVING all of your comments on each part. So many of them either brought a smile to my face or made me actually laugh out loud, so thank you!!
Summary: You can't hide your emotions anymore and some things aren't what they seem to be.
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: angst, talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)
Azriel and Rhys came running into your room.
"What happened?" Rhys shouted as you stood there crying
Both of the Illyrians looked over to where the shattered glass laid, realizing what had happened. The shadowsinger gave Rhys a look letting him know he would fix this.
Rhys had everyone leave the house and stayed close by in case Az needed help.
"Hey, sunshine, let me help you" he barely whispered while taking steps towards you.
"You!" you screamed at him "You left me. You didn't care enough to let me know you weren't coming. And you didn't care enough to save me. I needed you and you were gone."
You took a deep breath and continued
"When they showed up to take me, I looked around for you. Thinking you would show up and save me. Now that I think about it, maybe I'm the stupid one. For believing you would choose to spend time with me instead of her for once. How stupid could I be? When I was being tortured all I wanted was to let go, to die. And not because the pain was too much, but because I knew that coming back and seeing the pity on your face would be so much worse. Seeing you finally 'care' about me because you feel guilty would break me beyond fixing." you took steps toward him as you yelled
His back was now against the wall.
"And now I'm broken! Nothing can fix this. And Cassian, poor Cassian was forced to watch while they rid me of my clothes and beat me. Why couldn't you just love me back? I needed you" You were pounding on his chest with your fists and he let you.
You could barely see through the tears. It felt nice to get some of it out. You collapsed into his chest, still yelling and crying. His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him and you both sank down to the ground. You were now resting on his lap and he held you while he cried.
"I needed you, I needed you." you cried "I need you"
"I know, I'm right here. I promise I'm not going anywhere." He spoke with his lips on your head. His own tears falling faster.
You eventually fell asleep on his lap and he carried you to his room. He laid you down on his bed and was about to go clean up the mess when you grabbed his arm.
"Please don't go" you spoke
"You want me to stay?" he wanted to make sure he heard you right.
"Yes" you stated, you couldn't keep the act up anymore. You needed your best friend back for right now. He could explain himself later.
He pulled up a chair next to his bed as you got comfortable under his covers. It was silent for a few minutes, your head was pounding from all the crying you had been doing.
"I always hoped that my mom had got away somehow and was out there looking for me." you whispered, barely audible
"Every time I went somewhere on a mission, I sent my shadows out to look for her, just in case." Azriel confessed just as soft
A small smile grew on your face, and with a million thoughts swirling through your head, you went to sleep.
You woke up the next morning and saw Az sleeping on the chair next to you. As quietly as you could, you slipped out of bed and went to your room. Everything had already been cleaned up and the guilt from the night before started to creep in.
Feyre was sitting on the edge of your bed, holding the note from Elain.
"I promise Elain truly meant well with the flowers." your High Lady told you
"I don't know why I did what I did last night, I'm sorry-" you started but she stopped you before you could finish.
"No, I would have probably done the same thing. Her note was, well, pathetic. But you have to understand that she wanted to apologize to you but was embarrassed. So, she thought the flowers would have been good for now." Feyre explained
"I was tortured and she's embarrassed?" you couldn't understand.
"When you're ready, maybe try talking to Elain? You deserve a true apology but only when you are ready. And while you're at, try talking to Cassian too. You both went through a lot together and it might help you. He won't say it but he's struggling." Feyre spoke while standing and walking over to you.
She pulled you into a hug and you let her. You leaned into her and she hugged you tighter. You were ready to accept help from your family.
You got dressed after she left and were going to head down to the kitchen to see if anyone else was up.
As you left your room, you heard a few voices coming out of Azriel's. You couldn't help but pause and listen.
"And why have you been so quiet? You were there, you saw what she went through. You should be trying to help her. Instead you've been avoiding her" Az spoke
"Alright lets stop-" Rhys started to say
"Why have I been so quiet?" Cassian asked sarcastically "Hmm let me think? Maybe it's because I stood there completely helpless while I had to watch Y/N be stabbed over and over again, dragged by her hair, relentlessly beat?!" His voice rose with every word
"And did you know, on top of all that, as she was about to be tortured in front of me, she comforted me? She told me that it was ok, that she could take it, told me to not worry about her?! He had the knife raised in his hand about to stab her, and all she could think of was to comfort me? I do not deserve her kindness and friendship. None of us do."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." the shadowsinger told his friend
"It's fine. It's just so hard to look at her and not see the fear and pain in her eyes. I failed her and I don't know how to make that up to her." Cass responded
"Listen, she just needs us to be us right now. She needs love and support. All we can do is be there for her." Rhys told them
"I'm just happy she showed emotion last night. Having her scream at me is so much better than her pretending she's ok." Az said
So Cass wasn't disgusted with you, he just felt guilty?
You opened Azriel's bedroom door and walked straight to Cassian.
"Y/N" the male stuttered, not knowing what else to say
You wrapped your arms around him and after a moment he embraced you too. You stood like that for a couple of minutes before separating, still keeping your hands on his arms.
"If you weren't with me in that dungeon, I would've given up. I wouldn't have had the strength to keep fighting. You were there for me, and that was all I needed." you told Cass
Azriel flinched at that last sentence. He knew you didn't say it to hurt him but he will never forgive himself for what he did.
Cassian sniffled, "Well, I think I could use a drink after these past few days, shall we crack open the most expensive bottles Rhys owns?"
"Seeing as it is still morning, I think we should save the drinking until later." Rhys chuckled
The four of you laughed and it felt good. You missed this so much.
"I'll take you up on that offer, but how about after dinner?" you offered
"Sounds perfect" "I'm in" Rhys and Cass responded at the same time
The three of you looked at Az and the male smiled and nodded.
You were looking forward to hopefully having a simple night just sitting with your family and enjoying their company. But right now, you needed to find Elain.
You were exhausted pretending everything was ok, and you figured talking to her could help.
After checking the kitchen with no success, you headed to your second guess of where she was at. The garden. You spotted her immediately, bent over some beautiful flowers.
"Hello, Elain" You started
"Oh! Y/N, I wasn't expecting to talk to you so soon. Um- I need to tell you, I...well I really didn't know...." the girl choked out
She seemed so nervous and upset.
"Elain, I'm here to apologize" you spoke softly and took a seat next to her. Her eyes growing wide at your words.
"What?? No, you were kidnapped and tortured and all because I was jealous of you? No I need to apologize. I didn't know the extent of what happened to you until after I sent the flowers. I was told that you were hurt but it wasn't until last night that Rhys showed me what you went through.. I am deeply sorry" she told you
"You were jealous of me?" you questioned
"It's stupid.. after everything that occurred with Graysen, I was scared to feel that pain again. When I first got here, Azriel was so kind to me. I started to get that feeling again and was terrified of being hurt. Az was so close to you so I convinced him to stay with me. I was embarrassed that I let myself act like this over a male. I am appalled with myself." Elain admitted
"You couldn't have known those men were after me. Am I hurt that you tried to keep my closest friend from me? Yes, but you should not carry the burden and guilt of my trauma because of that... and the flowers did come off as a little insensitive" you elbowed her playfully as you spoke the last part, hoping she would see it as a sort of truce.
She looked up at you with embarrassment on her face.
"In my defense, Nesta helped me write the card, and you know she's not very good at emotional apologies" Elain said and you both giggled
After a moment, the air seemed to turn serious again.
"He couldn't have known either," she gently added, "have you talked to him yet?"
"Well, I screamed at him and blamed him for a lot of it last night but besides that, no I haven't talked to him. The problem isn't just that he stood me up that night, which led to all of this. He started drifting away from me long before that and it hurt like hell." you admitted to her
"Ask him why. Be straight forward with him and perhaps he will do the same with you." she advised you
You gave the middle Archeron sister a genuine smile and went back inside.
That wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. You felt lighter after all that clarification but there was still something big weighing you down.
You needed to find Azriel next and you had a feeling this conversation wouldn't be as easy as the last.
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more than study buddies | h.c
summary: you’ve had a crush on hazel for yearsnow. after you get partnered with her in mr.g’s class, she asks you to come over to study for the final exam. tired of not being able to act on this crush, you turn to isabel for some help in seduction. you attempt a few of her tactics but it seems that hazel doesn’t really seem to be that interested. or so, you think until you’re straight it forward with how you feel.
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
contains: mature language, mature content, smut including — oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), hazel being an absolute teasing dom bc i said so, mrs.callahan almost catches reader and hazel but is saved by a locked door, reader does not know how to flirt to save their lives, isabel & josie being cuties and supportive of hazel and reader, no y/n!!!
a/n: i hope everyone enjoys. this is my first time ever writing about a sapphic character so i hope it meets expectations. thank you! :))
word count: 7K (i got extremely carried away)
You and Hazel shared Mr.G’s class. It didn’t take a genius to notice that Hazel was insanely attractive with her mullet rocker hair, insanely sharp cheekbones, and big blue eyes that had you blushing at just the thought. After being assigned partners for the ‘Death of Women in History’ section for Mr.G’s class, you two had got to talking more and more about each other.
First, that Mr.G’s class really made no sense a majority of the time and that you had no idea how he even got hired. Hazel agreed but pointed out that at least it was an easy class. Along with looking cool, Hazel just was so fucking cool. She knew taekwondo, how to build a bomb (you didn’t question why or how she knew how to do that) and how she blew up that douchebag Jeff’s car after cheating on Isabel, who had also become close friends throughout the year, with Hazel’s mom.
You were pretty sure that was extremely illegal but didn’t even have to comment on it to tell that it pissed and disgusted Hazel off beyond belief.
You were surprised to find out that she didn’t have a girlfriend nor had she ever had a girlfriend. This made you more hopeful for a chance with her. You gushed to Isabel as you had been doing all semester about Hazel once class ended.
“Oh my god, you are obsessed with her,” Isabel teased you as you walked down the halls. “You know, if you want, I could for sure give you some tips on how to hint to her that you wanna be more than just friends.”
This made your eyebrows raise in interest. You weren’t really the flirty type in any way. You were the type to repress your crush on someone for as long as you could until it eventually went away. Rejection clouded your confidence as soon as you even considered confessing to your past crushes.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you awkwardly chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I think we’re good now a-as friends.”
“Is that what you tell yourself when you're jerking off to the thought of her?” Isabel deadpanned causing you to blush.
You whip your head around the halls to see if Hazel or if anyone associated with her was around. You would rather die than have her hear that.
“I told you that happened one time!” You sneered through a whisper at the freckled girl.
Isabel continued to just stare at you unamused at your lies. The two of you approached your locker and there across the way was Hazel wearing a cozy brown sweater and green pants with her low Doc Martens. She was talking to Josie about something you couldn’t quite make out from a distance. Just seeing her made those memories of the many nights you’ve happened to use her as some inspiration to get off.
Many, many nights.
“Okay, a lot more than once but shut up. She is right there.” You sneered at your friend, glancing at Hazel once more before opening your locker to place your textbooks for the day.
As you do, you notice Isabel raise her hands up in defense before ogling at her Josie.
“Now go and talk to your girlfriend. I can see you eye-fucking her from here.” You poke at her gorgeous head of hair with a gag as she hugs you quickly, reminding you to FaceTime her tonight so that you can work out exactly how you could seduce Hazel.
Isabel happily walks over and throws her arms around Josie’s neck to kiss her softly. Hazel visibly grimaced at how heavily the kiss progressed in such a short amount of time before removing herself from their space.
“Hazel, hey,” you call out with a grin, hoping you didn’t scare her.
Hazel sighed out of relief at the sight of you which, of course, made your smitten heart thump.
“Shit, I’m glad I caught you actually. Mr.G’s test is coming up in about a week and I was wondering if you wanted to start coming over to study for it,” Hazel proposed and you felt your throat close up.
“Like a…. study-date?” You question carefully.
Hazel shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure, yeah. So tomorrow after school? We can walk to my house.”
You blinked once, trying to process what you already agreed to. You nod with a deep inhale, a nervous smile that you hoped looked normal to your crush for years now.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she reached forward to place a hand on your shoulder before walking away.
Your eyes followed her figure as you waited until she completely disappeared in the crowd of students leaving for activities and to go home. You inched forward to Josie and Isabel, lightly tapping on Isabel’s shoulder in a panic. Isabel audibly groaned and detached herself from Josie to look at whoever was tapping her but when she saw you, her face softened.
“What—“
“Hazel just invited me over tomorrow to study for Mr.G’s test. I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I wear?” You express in a panic, messing with your middle finger ring as a sort of comfort.
Josie raised a finger up and shrugged. “Maybe study? I don't know…” Her voice faded out as her girlfriend then stared at her warningly.
“No, I am coming over tonight,” Isabel removed herself from Josie who just gaped at you and the honey haired woman. “FaceTime is not enough. Bring your best outfit ideas and I’ll help with seduction techniques because, no offense, but you really need it.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Josie interrupted with a grin already forming, “you like Hazel?”
You raised a fist to punch her shoulder and point at her. “Shut up, Josie.”
“Oh my god, babe, you seriously haven’t noticed? She’s jaw dropped and drools every time she’s around.”
“Okay, whatever, jesus. Yes, I do and I’m freaking out right now because I really like her and she’s so fucking hot and not only that, she’s actually a really nice person. God, I want her so bad.” You stress yourself out as you think about how tomorrow evening was going to go.
Isabel glanced at you with a grimace as she understood your struggle. She reached forward to pat your shoulder, not knowing how else to comfort you.
That same night, Isabel made her way over to your place to help you pick out an outfit. The two of you went through every single item in your closet. Isabel gave you one single tip on the clothing options for seduction; cleavage. It should’ve been a given in your eyes but being told it would for sure.
So, deep within the old, thrifted clothes, Isabel found something you completely forgot you had bought on a whim. She pulled out a soft pink cotton dress that was practically lingerie as the boob area was lined with lace.
“Isn’t that too dressy for a study date?” You proposed to Isabel.
“Definitely but it’ll make your tits look amazing.” Isabel emphasized, motioning to your chest.
Did your tits not look amazing on every other day?
So, the next afternoon after the last bell rang, you rushed to the bathroom to change into that said dress, quickly smoothing down the front to lessen the wrinkles from how you shoved it into your backpack. You glanced at your cleavage and Isabel was right about how great your tits looked.
They were a pretty average size but the lace and slight lift on the top area made your confidence rise a bit. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot Hazel leaning on your locker. A black and white zig-zag button up, a black opened vest on top with a medium wash of blue jean and a pair of creme white Converse.
Her chains shine very faintly against her neck which shouldn’t have driven you insane as it did.
You move yourself into her eye-line with a friendly, innocent grin. Hazel’s brows raised in your direction then furrowing at your obvious change in attire.
“Hey, you ready to go?” She asked with slight confusion in her tone.
“Yeah, sounds good,” you nod.
“Oh! I was able to get my mom’s car today so we don't have to walk for, like, half a fucking hour.”
The news caused you to internally sigh in relief. You were wearing Converse which weren’t exactly the most comfortable for walking miles. Plus, you didn’t want to try and seduce your way into Hazel’s heart.
The whole drive was quiet as you, in all honesty, completely forgot about every single thing that Isabel had told you to do. It’s not your fault that Hazel looked ridiculously attractive behind the wheel, driving with one hand gripping the wheel with the windows down.
It looked straight out of a fucking rom-com. You couldn’t help but gawk at the way the wind blew her rocker hair wildly, exposing her sharp cheekbones. The soft melody of a random radio station playing in the background really just made it full circle.
Maybe you could start here and compliment her.
“You look really nice driving,” you blurted out, wanting to vomit already at how fast and loud the words left your mouth.
Hazel’s face twitched in confusion for a moment, glancing over at you with a slight grin.
“Nice?” Her tone was teasing. “Thank you, I think?”
“Yeah, of course,” you nod, embarrassment flooding through your veins.
Yeah, you didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive to her house. Pulling up, you tug the ends of the skirt of your dress down so you don’t flash her. You peaked over at her as she put the car in park, checking her out as discreetly as you could.
Hazel walked around the front of the car to open the door for you as you reached for the handle, catching you off guard. You froze for a still second before flashing her a flirty smile.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” you inform Hazel who had an arm raised and rested on the opened door.
“You’re the guest.” Hazel shrugged with a small grin before adding on, “also, it’s jammed on the child’s lock for some reason so I have to open it from the outside.”
This made your expression falter but you attempted to hide it. You threw your backpack over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car. Hazel moves out of your way to motion towards the front door. Or doors, in Hazel's case.
The walk to Hazel’s room made your heart sink. The confidence that had been waving in and out of your system had fully disappeared into thin air. Hazel strides in front of you, turning a corner to the egg-white wooden door to her room. She opens the door and moves out of the way, again, to let you in first.
“Just make yourself comfortable.”
You haven’t been comfortable since you walked into the house. Hazel sets her backpack down on the ground next to her desks' swivel chair. As she turned around, you tugged the front of the dress down to reveal your cleavage more for her to notice.
This is where it had to begin.
Setting your bag down in the same area, you brushed your hair out of your way and leaned on the desk with one hand. You made sure to make your arm press into the side of her boob to accentuate the front of the dress. Hazel turned to find you there right behind her, eyes widening and blinking once out of surprise of how close in prolixity you had become.
Then, Isabel’s advice came echoing in your mind.
“Compliment the smell of her or her room. Or even both. I know I love when people let me know how good I smell.”
“Hey, you know your room smells really good. It smells like you,” you smile, looking her up and down and leaning in closer. “What is it?”
Her room did, in fact, smell like some sort of fragrance mixture of woody, mahogany, and sage with a hint of lavender. Hazel glanced around the room before her eyes landed right where you had been wanting her to look; right at your tits.
“Uh, thank you. I have no idea. Probably ‘mahogany teakwood’ or some shit like that.”
You nod, mentally noting that. Hazel, then, got out all of the material needed for Mr.G’s class. Shit, you haven't even packed a notebook. Isabel gave you the confidence to assure you that something was going to happen.
Fuck.
Hazel was already getting out different colored pens and pencils, laying them out on her desk. You pretend to look through your bag, faking a sigh and groan as you continue your act.
“Damn it,” you muttered.
Hazel was quick to notice your frantic rummaging before asking, “what’s wrong?”
“I completely forgot to get my notebook so I can’t really study. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re fine,” Hazel reassured, a kind smile on her face. You hated how much it made your head spin. “Here— shit,” she dropped her notebook while handing it to you. The clumsiness made you smile; not making fun but in admiration of how cute she was.
Isabel was painfully right. You were obsessed with everything about her, it was concerning sometimes.
“I got it. Thank you,” you tell her as you bend forward to pick up the notebook from the ground, looking up at her from the ground.
Hazel’s eyes find themselves locked on your cleavage again. She nodded, clearing her throat and twiddling a pencil around her fingers skillfully.
“Yeah, of course.” Hazel smacks her tongue against her teeth. “We should probably… get to it though.”
You nod to yourself, clutching the notebook in a way that has the metal spiral digging into your palm. How were you going to seduce her when she actually wants to study?
“Right, yeah,” you respond, glancing over at her made bed. A thought filled your brain as you pointed to the bed. “Hey, is it okay if we get on the bed? It’ll probably be more comfortable that way.”
Hazel glanced at her bed then at you before nodding without hesitation. “Sure, yeah.”
The tension in the air was indescribable. When you were studying by yourself in your own room, you were usually blasting music on your speaker or in your headphones to the point of everything else around you becoming insignificant. There was complete silence in the room which made you even more nervous to be with Hazel in her room.
The two of you then sit on the bed; Hazel prying off her shoes to sit criss-cross on the bed and you lie down in front of her, one arm holding up your head and the other writing down mindlessly. Hazel actually seemed to be writing and studying while you were just scribbling your name down in different fonts. She had no idea how much you had been zoned out and bored.
That is until after half an hour of ‘studying’, Hazel asked you a question about a topic she was writing about.
“Oh, uh,” you look down at the paper and then back at her.
She was staring at you, waiting patiently for some sort of answer but she glanced at your graphite covered paper to see what you had been doing this entire time you had been here. Embarrassment begins to flood your system as you meet her gaze.
“Have you been writing your name over and over again?”
“Yeah…” You trailed off, having no defense whatsoever. You were bored, on the verge of giving up seducing Hazel. Might as well just tell her the truth. “I’m sorry, Hazel. I… never wanted to really study.”
Hazel chuckled and nodded her head towards the scribbled piece of paper. “Yeah, I noticed but why’d you say yes then? Did you wanna just… hangout or something?”
As you were about to open your mouth to ramble out some stupid love confession, Isabel’s voice echoed in your head.
“If you can’t do the subtle, seductive route, be honest about what you want. Some people hate it when they dance around what they really want to say or do. Be direct.”
You sucked in a deep breath, sitting up so that you were sitting across from Hazel with one leg hanging off of the bed. Your socked foot accidentally nudged her pant leg as you straightened out your back, making sure to keep eye contact with her.
“I want you, Hazel.” You kept your voice clear and lowered a bit to let her know that it was in fact in a sexual manner.
Hazel’s face dropped and you were already conjuring up an ‘it was a joke’ or ‘I’m just messing with you’ until she tilted her head with a smile.
“In a sexual and romantic way,” you emphasized with a grin.
“Is that why you changed into a dress after class?” Her tone was in its usual teasing way.
“What do you mean? I was wearing this all day.” You lied straight through your teeth but your grin gave away that you were being sarcastic.
Hazel just shook her head at you, muttering something under the lines of ‘such a tease’ as she leaned forward to press her lips onto yours. You blushed at both her words and how quick she was to kiss you. Her lips felt gentle and smooth against your own.
You inhaled and picked up a rhythm as she cradled the back of your neck with her hands. You were a bit intimidated by how experienced she was with her movements even though she had told you that she had none. Not that you were calling her a liar but she felt so fucking good.
Your hands awkwardly sat on your lap, not knowing where else to place them. This position made your lower back ache and not in a good way. You pull away from her slick lips, sucking in a deep breath.
“Can I,” you begin but hesitate for a moment. “Can we change positions? I’m sorry. My back is aching.”
You both softly chuckle at your question but it didn’t feel awkward. No, it felt more comfortable than anything. In fact, she shoved all of her school notebooks and pens on the ground with a cheeky grin.
“You can sit on my lap, c’mere.” Hazel scooched up further on the bed so that she was resting with her back against the bed frame, her legs straight out.
You blushed at the sight of her slightly slick and red lips and flushed cheeks. You forced yourself to follow forward and straddle Hazel’s legs. Her hands immediately found your waist, thumbs rubbing at the skin through the fabric.
“I’m not too heavy, right? Like it doesn’t hurt your legs?” You ask softly, placing your hands on Hazel’s shoulders.
“No, no. Trust me, this feels really good.” Hazel makes her point by running her palms up and down your sides than to squeeze at your thighs.
Your skin heats up as you feel her rings indenting into it with her soft grip. To hide your blush, you pull her into another passionate kiss. Your hands find her neck while she holds your waist, slightly rocking them forward. You let out a noise of pleasure as you feel her tongue swipe past your bottom lip.
Hazel began to smile against your lips after the noise left your mouth and she pulled away to then kiss at the skin underneath your jaw. You hum at the feeling of her lips sucking and biting at the skin. The room’s atmosphere was filled with the two of you letting out the gentlest of sensual sounds to egg each other on.
“Hazel,” you whine, rolling your hips into hers desperately.
Hazel detached herself from your neck to glance down at the way you were moving against her. She pecked at your cheek, placing her hands on your hips encouragingly. You noticed this glint in her eye and it was clear to you that she was turned on by how you were trying to get off on her.
“There you go. Just like that. That feels good, yeah?” Her tone raising a little with that stupid fucking smirk on her face.
“Please touch me.” You begged, a wave of desperation falling over you.
Hazel shook her head, obviously taunting your aroused state. “I think you’re doing good right now, pretty girl. Look at you, fuck.”
“Please,” you whispered, leaning forward to capture her lips onto hers.
Hazel pulled away to instead kiss right above your left boob, looking at you through her eyes to make sure you were okay with what she was doing. A slight nod was all Hazel needed to continue her journey down. She uses one hand to move the straps of the delicate dress off your shoulders.
You watch her tug down the top area of the dress to expose your bare chest. You try not to make it known how nervous you were for this. No one has ever seen this part of you and Hazel meant a lot to you in so many ways already. She gently takes them into her palms, a shiver running down your spine at the contact of her cool rings.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” Hazel hummed, now looking into your eyes.
It sounded so sincere and kind, you could shed a tear.
“Perfect?” You tilt your head to the side, no humor behind it. There was genuine curiosity if she meant it.
“Yeah, you are,” she pecks your lips once before placing another peck to the top of your tits. “I’m not just saying that because your boobs are in my face, by the way.”
This causes a soft laugh to erupt from your chest, leaning forward to rest your forehead on her shoulder. Her hands rub up and down your back soothingly as she chuckles along with you.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” You remove yourself from the comfort of her neck, pushing your hair out of your face.
“It’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that. Make you comfortable.” Hazel held your waist, looking between both of your eyes then your lips.
“I am. I just am really turned on right now.” You take your lip in between your teeth, adjusting yourself to grind once again on her lap.
Hazel took the hint and took one of your nipples in between her lips, sucking and licking on the bud. You gasp softly at the feeling, pushing your chest forward into the warmth of her mouth. You took one hand to brush her hair out of her face, moaning softly.
You were panting at the overwhelming feeling of her lips sucking and kissing at both of your tits and her hands gripping hungrily at your waist. It felt like so much but not enough all at once. You just wanted to be engulfed by this feeling; of Hazel.
“Can I go down on you?” Hazel asks softly, pulling away from your sensitive bud.
Your eyes widened at her words and tried to get out of your lustful haze. Your head felt clouded and not able to focus on anything other than this erotic feeling.
“I—Yeah. You really wanna?” You reply, a wave of both excitement and nerves flooding through your body.
“I really want to. If you’re not comfortable, though, that’s completely okay.” Hazel reassured you, kissing you gently on the lips. “We can keep doing this because trust me, this is really good too.”
You can’t help the smitten smile that spreads onto your lips. You hated how much you loved the bare minimum treatment she was giving you.
“No, I want to. I just— how do you want me?” You stare at her, waiting patiently.
Hazel bit her lip as she thought for a mere second before glancing to the empty space next to her. Hazel cupped your face once again to place a soft kiss to your lips. When she pulled away, you were quick to chase after the addicting taste of her. She pulled back with a teasing grin, moving her hands down to squeeze at your ass once.
“I’m gonna go and lock the door. Lay down for me, okay?”
For me. Fuck, she wanted to send you into cardiac arrest.
You nod and remove yourself from Hazel’s lap to sit down on the mattress. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear now that you were distracted by how your crush for years was sucking on your tits. Hazel rushed to lock the door, pushing her hair out of her face.
When Hazel locked her eyes on your figure on the bed, she sucked in a deep breath as if she was trying to keep her composure. She removed her open vest and her button up so that she was left in her white wife-pleaser and a black sports bra.
You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second in anticipation.
“You are so gorgeous,” Hazel tells you as she approaches the bed once again.
She crawls in between your open legs so that you are face-to-face. You answer by pressing your lips to hers. You crossed your arms around her neck to tug her more onto your body. Hazel moved her lips against yours, moving a hand from your neck to the skirt portion of the dress. She lifted it up so that it was resting around your stomach area to expose your black lace underwear you had worn for this.
Hazel hooked one finger underneath the waistband of the panties to snap it against your soft hips. You gasped at the feeling, in both pleasure and shock. Hazel pushes up on her arms to move down your body. She presses wet and attentive kisses down your chest and makes her way down to the plush of your stomach.
You sucked in out of habit so that you hoped you would appear thinner. You didn’t even realize earlier how exposed you were going to be. Hazel did take notice of the sudden tense feeling on your stomach as she kissed right above the waistband of your underwear.
“Hey, you gotta relax for me, okay?” Hazel mutters to you, hands kneeling into your soft thighs.
You sit up on your forearms to look Hazel in the eyes. “Sorry. I’ve never had anyone down there. I’m sorry if I look bloated or smell down there or—”
“Hey, it's okay. It’s okay. You look beautiful, okay? And as for the smell, its not supposed to smell like fucking vanilla or flowers. Men made that shit a standard because they’re fucking idiots.” Hazel’s words really set in your head as you tried to push away all the negative and harmful words that were telling you weren’t skinny or pretty enough to be doing this with her. “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be.”
You nod slowly, watching as Hazel places feather-soft kisses onto your inner thighs. She was so attentive to every single sensitive part of your lower region. She kisses right over that wet spot on your underwear before taking the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down. She flings them somewhere in the corner of her room.
You want to close your legs out of instinct but you hold them open. Hazel leans down onto your pussy, placing a soft kiss onto your clit. Your hips shift at the feeling but you try to keep your composure. She looks up at you as she licks one stripe through your folds.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, chasing her tongue for more.
Hazel continued to move her tongue through your slick folds, her hands gripping onto your thighs to hold you there. Your breathing was heavy and a slight layer of sweat began to form on your hairline and your lower back. The obscene sounds coming from your pussy only encouraged Hazel to pick up her movements.
You ran a hand through her hair as you felt it tickle at your inner thigh. Her eyes locked with yours as she sucked at your clit, waiting for pretty sounds to leave your lips. You whine and rock your hips against her mouth.
“You taste so good, baby,” she breathes against your slick folds. “So fucking good.”
The praise went straight to your core, your naked chest rising and falling as you were overwhelmed by her grip on you and her tongue hungrily moving through your folds. You tried to squirm away as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.
Hazel wasn’t letting that happen, though. She slipped her pointer finger into your entrance slowly, lifting her head up to watch your reaction to this new feeling. You nodded at the feeling of something inside of you, jaw dropped as you didn’t realize she had kept her rings on. Feeling incredibly pathetic and needy as you clenched around her finger, you rocked your hips down as if that would make the pleasure increase.
“That feel good, pretty girl?” Hazel’s voice breathy in arousal, pumping her finger with one hand and keeping a tight grip onto your thigh to hold you open.
“More, please. Haze, I need to cum, please,” you begged, not even responding to her question.
Your mind was too clouded with the endorphins releasing from how good she was making you feel. Your hips kept grinding against her, feeling so out of your normal state of mind. Your lips were kiss-swollen and hair was beginning to frizz from the beads of sweat that were forming at your hairline.
“You look beautiful like this. All fucked out for me, honey.” Hazel did as you had begged for, her pointer and middle fingers were now pumping inside of you.
Her hair, too, was frizzing up beautifully from the humid air that had been filling the room. Her chest and cheeks had a gorgeous pink hue to the pale skin from the lust. Her lips and chin were coated with your arousal. How could she be complimenting you when she looked like she came straight out of porno magazine?
“Really? I’m the beautiful one when you look how,” you pant in disbelief, “you do? Fuck, Haze.”
In response to this flirtation, Hazel adjusted so that she was face-to face with you once again and pressed her lips to yours. You moan softly against her at the taste of your own slick on her swollen lips. Hazel’s fingers curled into you to hear those moans that she could have on repeat if it was possible. You pulled away to keep your lips ghosting over one another to breathe heavy moans into your mouths.
“How do I look, hmm?” She taunted, her eyes flickering all around the features of your face.
You whine, trying to kiss Hazel again to avoid answering. She just pulled back, curling her fingers against your g-spot teasingly to purposely drive you insane. You were so fucking close and she’s asking you this now?
And as if things couldn’t go more awry, you hear a rather loud knock on the door.
“Hazel! Is everything alright in there?”
Hazel’s movements freeze for a moment as the realization sets in that her mom is just on the other side of the door. You glance at the door than at Hazel who was heavily breathing along with you.
“Yeah, mom, why? I’m just doing…” Hazel glances at you and smirks for a moment. You roll your eyes as you know she wanted to say your name as a joke. “Homework. Just studying right now.”
Waiting for a response from her mother, Hazel resumed the thrusts of her fingers. She even picked up the pace of her thrusts and you knew it was because of this thrill of almost getting caught. Fuck, and it really wasn’t helping your attraction to her.
You scrunched up your brows at the pressure building in your abdomen as you force the moans itching at your throat back. Hazel had this lustful glint in her eye as she watched your hips sputter as she knew you were so close to cumming. She could feel how much you were clenching and hear the soft ‘please’ and her name falling from your lips.
“Okay, well, I swore I heard someone else in there. Is there someone else in there?”
You almost felt bad for Mrs. Callahan as you were getting finger-fucked by her daughter while she was just on the other side of the door. Almost.
Okay, you didn’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, a friend. She’s helping me study for Mr.G’s final exam.” Hazel borderline shouts back before leaning down to kiss at the underside of your jaw.
“You’re doing so good for me. You’re gonna cum, pretty girl?” You nod, eyes watering from how good she felt and not trusting yourself to speak at the moment. You were whispering and begging for her to make you cum, the build-up becoming overwhelming.
“Did you guys want anything to eat? I can go and get some pizza?”
“Yeah, mom. Sounds good. Pepperoni is great. Okay, love you. Bye.” Hazel rushes out her words.
You reach your hand down to rub at your sensitive clit as Hazel pumps her fingers harder. Hazel moves your hand away to replace your hand with her own, wanting to make you cum on her own. You let out a shaky moan, a string of ‘please’ leaving your lips.
Your hand reaches down in between your legs to grip onto her wrists, trying to push her hands away from the overstimulation. Your back arches and chases the feeling over how hard you were cumming. Your thighs tried to clamp her hands still but she didn’t stop whatsoever, wanting your cum to lather her fingers.
“Haze, please, please. Fuck, right there.” You beg through dry sobs, cumming quicker than you could comprehend.
Your head went numb and your body went weak as shivers ran down your spine. Hazel watched as your hips eagerly chased the high, stuttering as you were slowly coming down from the orgasm.
“There you go, baby. Just breathe. You did so good. So, so good, yeah.” Hazel leaned down to kiss your soft lower stomach, slowly removing her fingers from your cunt.
Hazel refrained from groaning at the sight of your climax dripping out and lathering her fingers and rings. Her main focus was taking care of you right now.
“I need a nap,” you huffed as you raised an arm to cover your forehead.
Hazel chuckled softly, leaning down to place sweet and gentle kisses to your cheeks and then lips. “How about you pee for now and then we could take a nap? I don’t want you to get a UTI or something.”
You nod, agreeing with her. You take a deep breath in and out as you sit up slowly. Hazel watched you carefully as she continued to caress your sides and thighs.
“You have a private bathroom right?” You wonder as you stare at the door you entered from.
If Hazel’s mom was still home, you couldn’t fathom having to interact with her after what had just happened in this room.
“Yeah, it's right next to the closet over there.” Hazel jerked her head to a door that looked identical to the entrance to her room.
You nod as you should’ve seen that earlier. A sudden silence fell over the two of you; almost tense. Do you kiss her? Do you hug her? Do you ‘thank her’? No, thanking her would be so fucking weird.
Just get up and pee, you freak, jesus.
Hazel watched you move your straps back onto your shoulders and covered your tits that she wished she had spent more time on. You get up from the bed, turning your head to flash her a gentle smile, muttering that you would be right back.
“I’ll be here.” Hazel grins, pointing to her bed.
You open the bathroom door with a soft blush, shutting the door behind you. You locked eyes with your reflection and raised a hand to cover your mouth in shock. Your mascara was smudged under your eyes and your lips were a bit puffy and red. And god, your hair was a mess.
You looked fucked out.
You were fucked out.
A part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Isabel to show her it worked a lot better than you thought it would go. You shook your head and quickly used the bathroom, washing your hands. You dry them off on a towel, trying to keep your composure from flashes of what had just happened.
You adjust the skirt and top to your dress, wiping underneath your eyes to smoothen out the black mascara. You swing open the door to see Hazel sitting on her bed on her phone. She looked up as she noticed the bathroom light turn off and how you were standing silently to yourself.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?” She turned her phone off and tossed it to the side, her eyes trailing up and down your body.
“Mhmm. Yeah, just tired, honestly,” you reassure her as you sit down next to her on the mattress.
“Do you want to take that nap now?” Hazel smiled kindly, turning her head to look at the head pillows.
You couldn’t help but smile at her too. Why did she have to be so attentive? Not that you were complaining but god, you couldn’t believe she was even real.
“Maybe not nap but I wanna lay with you, if that’s okay?” Your tone was hesitant as you didn’t know what you guys were going to be after this.
“Like cuddle?” Hazel’s tone was hopeful and kind.
You nod and the next thing you know, Hazel is holding you close with your legs intertwined. One of your hands was on her chest, twiddling with her necklaces while Hazel’s hands were rubbing up and down your back. In the midst of the domestic silence, you pressed gentle kisses onto her neck and she reciprocated the pecks onto your temple.
You could stay here forever.
“Hey Haze?” You murmur onto her skin, watching goosebumps rise to her skin.
Hazel hummed in response.
“Are we, like, dating now?” You avoid looking her in the eye, anxiety clouding your thoughts.
“I have to take you on an actual date but yeah, I want to be.” Hazel shrugged her shoulders, acting cool about it but you could pick up by her tone that she was being genuine.
You purse your lips to hold back the giddy smile, snuggling further into her chest. Hazel cupped the side of your face, pressing her thumb underneath your jaw to tilt your head up and capture your lips into a gentle kiss.
After inhaling the pizza that Mrs. Callahan had bought for you guys, you impulsively decided to spend the night. You and Hazel lazily made out and whispered in the late of the night tangled in her sheets.
The next morning at school, you and Hazel walked in side by side. Your pinkies were just barely brushing against each other and you were wearing one of Hazel’s sweaters with your jeans from before you changed into your seduction dress.
Isabel was waiting by your locker to hear all the details as you refused to text her last night after what had happened. She was talking to Josie, smiling as she listened attentively to whatever her girlfriend was telling her about.
You look at Hazel with a soft smile as you approach Isabel and Josie.
“Ignore how they will act when she sees us together,” you warn Hazel quietly.
Hazel nods, making eye contact with Josie who was already sporting a knowing grin. You deeply inhale as you stop in front of the couple.
“Morning guys.” You politely say, sending Isabel a warning glare.
Her eyes were locked on Hazel behind you, a smile forming on her freckled face. Josie and Isabel both mutter ‘mornings’ back, eyes never leaving Hazel who just stared back with a tight-lipped grin.
“So, you two are coming to school together? How exciting.” Josie bit her lip cheekily as she rocked side to side, the smile never leaving her face.
“Well, you know, I hate polluting the air so saving the environment by just riding together,” you turn around to face Josie, tilting your head with a smile.
Isabel nodded. “Right, so how was that study session guys?”
You and Hazel locked eyes with flushed cheeks as you could still feel her lips on your body. She left a permanent mark on your psyche. Hazel looked down with a smirk, shrugging her shoulders to play it off as if it was a minor occurrence.
“Actually, it was very informative. Exploring lots of new things about women,” Hazel glanced over at you then at Josie and Isabel with a confident grin.
Your eyes widened for a moment, nodding along to her words. You glance at Hazel, wanting to kick her in the shin but you just continue to add on the conversation.
“Yup. Ladies learning about ladies. I love feminism.” You give them a thumbs up.
Isabel’s eyes squinted as she glanced between you and Hazel. Before she could add on another comment that would make you feel even more tense, the bell rang for your first period.
“Shit, I gotta go. I forgot my first period is on the other side of the school.” Hazel rushed out, tightening and adjusting her grip on her bag.
“Oh, I’ll see you later, okay?” You turn to her with a small smile.
You tried not to sound too clingy as you were already missing her presence. Hazel reciprocated the smile before leaning in to connect your lips into a soft kiss. You close your eyes and almost forget where you guys were until you heard a soft ‘oh my god’ that came from Josie.
“Try not to miss me too much, baby,” she mutters against your lips.
You nod, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. When Hazel pulled away, she turned to the other pair, raising a hand to wave them bye.
“I’ll see you guys.” Hazel walks away with a confident pep in her step as she rounds the corner of the hallway.
Yeah, you were done for. Thank God for Mr.G’s class.
taglist: @ptolemaeacles <33 for you
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happy 6 years of naddpod everyone <3 (alt title: the dragon pussy podcast making me cry for 6 minutes straight)
Transcript:
Mee Maw: That's true, but… there's also somethin' else. Murph: And you see she pushes her cloak to the side, and you see she has black scabs-- Caldwell and Jake: Oh, no! No no no! Moonshine: Oh, Melora! Murph: --and deep crick rot all over her chest and neck.
Marabelle, weakly: Jolene? I-- I didn't realize I was gonna get to-- say I was sorry. Moonshine (pretending to be Jolene): Thank you, of-- of course you're forgiven! I love you so much! You're my big sister!
Melora: You're not cursed. You were born like this.
Hardwon: (desperately) Gemma? Gemma? Gemma wake up. Gemma baby. Hey. Murph: You see she's-- she's-- she's cold and dead. Hardwon: Fuck!
Balnor: I couldn't help them. I can barely swing a sword. Alanis: There's a war coming, and everyone needs to fight. Even old men who don't know how.
Beverly, crying: No, he's-- he's my light. He's my Pelor! He always was! I strayed!
Bev Sr: You tell her the truth, Bev. You tell your mom that I died in the Feywild. Beverly: (crying) You know I'm bad at lying. Bev Sr: It's not a lie, Bev.
Deadeye: Yeah, I know I'm down a hand. And an eye. And a life. But I got a soul, and a family. And I finally know which is worth more.
Deadeye: I hate to think about what woulda happened to me, but maybe more I hate to think about who I still would've been if I had never met you.
Rosa: JV, I can't-- I can't find my lantern. JV: Aw, well look at that? There's a lantern right here. Rosa: Are you sure that's mine? JV: Yeah. Yeah, I'll-- I-- I'm gonna go look for mine.
Hardwon: --interpretation. I-- I-- Moonshine: Hardwon, I really don't want you to want to die, because I want you to live so much and I don't want to be alone in that feeling.
Lydia: Elias, is that you? Hardwon: It's uh-- It's still little Elias. You saved the child, ma.
Lydia: I don't know what I've been these past few years, I don't know what I've been these past few decades. But I want you to know that when I was your mother that... you were wanted.
Murph: Somebody who felt they could never have a child… um, is holding their child. Moonshine: I-- I didn't want to need you, dad, but… now that you're here… it-- it's kinda nice.
Murph: Your father has given you... a strategy guide on how to beat him. Caldwell: I have to look away so that the tears don't ruin the pages.
Beverly: (tearful) I don't want to go. I don't want to go. But I have to. It's my duty. I have to do this. Moonshine: Okay, youngin, I want you to know. I will love you whatever you choose to do. But, here's my two cents: A child has a duty to his father, but a hero has a duty to the world. Now, I've got my opinion of which you are. But it's time for you to decide.
Bev Sr: Thanks, Bev. I always-- I knew I could make the deal, because I knew you'd stop me.
Moonshine: (tearful) I-- I've been wanting to tell you about this for so long, and I just didn't get a chance to. And I don't know if I will, so I just wanted to make sure I told you.
Moonshine, crying harder as she goes on: Paw Paw. You are… You are my best friend. And you are the best part of me. (sobs) And I am so grateful. For-- (sobs) the fact that so much of our lives have been braided together. But… where I'm going, next-- after we beat Thiala, which we will-- you can't come, mmkay? So I just need to make sure that you are taken care of, and I need to make sure that you take care of some people, okay?
Pendergreens: This time, you picked me up. And you were nice to me for no reason.
Pendergreens: If when you come back... if I'm different? Moonshine: Mhm? Pendergreens: Just, remember me as I am now. 'Cause I like who I am when I'm around you.
Death: I will take everything from you-- Hardwon: Quit pointing at people! Death: --until you come with me. Hardwon: Ok-- I'll go! I'll go. Beverly: Hardwon, no! Hardwon: Bring her back, and I'll come. Bring her back.
Lydia: All my life, people told me what I had to be. You don't have to be anything other than what you are.
Lydia: I think you should talk to your friends. Not because you owe them an explanation, but because you deserve to be heard.
Melora: Beverly. Beverly: Yes? Melora: I wish you could grow up in a normal world, but the Gods have not blessed you with a normal life. You are… afflicted with duty. Things thrust upon you far beyond your years.
Melora: The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor, what an injustice.
Moonshine: How long do Half-Elves live? Mee Maw: You talkin' bout Hardwon? Moonshine: I mean-- It's on my mind.
Moonshine: I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't know what it's gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. (tearful) And there's a part of me that doesn't want to find out what that feels like.
Moonshine: There is something sour I probably need to swallow, though. It is-- There's people you meet that are once in a timeless body lifetime kinda people, right? Mee Maw: Oh, yeah. Moonshine: Okay. Mee Maw: And you keep 'em with ya. Moonshine: Okay.
Moonshine: (crying) It's okay, Balnor. Like all the most powerful things in this world, I knew I was only borrowing you.
Hardwon: Moonshine, when-- When I left Irondeep, I-- I didn't know where I fit in. And then I met you, and you didn't just let me in. You brought me in, and you thought I was good.
Balnor: I hope that you all get to leave this world with the same comfort that I had: knowing that it's in good hands. I love you. Murph: "Your knight, Balnor."
#naddpod#bahumia#happy six years of naddpod everyone!!#emily axford#brian murphy#caldwell tanner#jake hurwitz#moonshine cybin#hardwon surefoot#beverly toegold#naddclips#weavings
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HOTD blog post GRRM posted and almost immediately deleted under the cut for archival purposes
Beware the Butterflies
SEPTEMBER 4, 2024
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Back in July, I promised you some further thoughts about Blood and Cheese… and Maelor the Missing… after my commentary on the first two episodes of HotD season 2, “A Son for a Son” and “Rhaenyra the Cruel.”
Those were terrific episodes: well written, well directed, powerfully acted. A great way to kick off the new season. Fans and critics alike seemed to agree. There was only one aspect of the episodes that drew significant criticism: the handling of Blood and Cheese, and the death of Prince Jaehaerys. From the commentary I saw on line, opinion was split there. The readers of FIRE & BLOOD found the sequence underwhelming, a disappointment, watered down from what they were expecting. Viewers who had not read the book had no such problems. Most of them found the sequence a real gut-punch, tragic, horrifying, nightmarish, etc. Some reported being reduced to tears.
I found myself agreeing with both sides.
In my book, Aegon and Helaena have three children, not two. The twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are six years old. They have a younger brother, Maelor, who is two. When Blood and Cheese break in on Helaena and the kids, they tell her they are debt collectors come to exact revenge for the death of Prince Lucerys: a son for a son. As Helaena has two sons, however, they demand that she choose which one should die. She resists and offers her own life instead, but the killers insist it has to be a son. If she does not name one, they will kill all three of the children. To save the life of the twins, Helaena names Maelor. But Blood kills the older boy, Jaehaerys, instead, while Cheese tells little Maelor that his mother wanted him dead. (Whether the boy is old enough to understand that is not at all certain).
That’s not how it happens on the show. There is no Maelor in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, only the twins (both of whom look younger than six, but I am no sure judge of children’s ages, so I can’t be sure how old they are supposed to be). Blood can’t seem to tell the twins apart, so Helaena is asked to reveal which one is the boy. (You would think a glance up his PJs would reveal that, without involving the mother). Instead of offering her own life to save the kids, Helaena offers them a necklace. Blood and Cheese are not tempted. Blood saws Prince Jaehaerys’s head off. We are spared the sight of that; a sound effect suffices. (In the book, he lops the head off with a sword).
It is a bloody, brutal scene, no doubt. How not? An innocent child is being butchered in front of his mother.
I still believe the scene in the book is stronger. The readers have the right of that. The two killers are crueler in the book. I thought the actors who played the killers on the show were excellent… but the characters are crueler, harder, and more frightening in FIRE & BLOOD. In the show, Blood is a gold cloak. In the book, he is a former gold cloak, stripped of his office for beating a woman to death. Book Blood is the sort of man who might think making a woman choose which of her sons should die is amusing, especially when they double down on the wanton cruelty by murdering the boy she tries to save. Book Cheese is worse too; he does not kick a dog, true, but he does not have a dog, and he’s the one who tells Maelor that his mom wants him head. I would also suggest that Helaena shows more courage, more strength in the book, by offering her own own life to save her son. Offering a piece of jewelry is just not the same.
As I saw it, the “Sophie’s Choice” aspect was the strongest part of the sequence, the darkest, the most visceral. I hated to lose that. And judging from the comments on line, most of the fans seemed to agree.
When Ryan Condal first told me what he meant to do, ages ago (back in 2022, might be) I argued against it, for all these reasons. I did not argue long, or with much heat, however. The change weakened the sequence, I felt, but only a bit. And Ryan had what seemed to be practical reasons for it; they did not want to deal with casting another child, especially a two-year old toddler. Kids that young will inevitably slow down production, and there would be budget implications. Budget was already an issue on HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, it made sense to save money wherever we could. Moreover, Ryan assured me that we were not losing Prince Maelor, simply postponing him. Queen Helaena could still give birth to him in season three, presumably after getting with child late in season two. That made sense to me, so I withdrew my objections and acquiesced to the change.
I still love the episode, and the Blood and Cheese sequence overall. Losing the “Helaena’s Choice” beat did weaken the scene, but not to any great degree. Only the book readers would even notice its absence; viewers who had never read FIRE & BLOOD would still find the scenes heart-rending. Maelor did not actually DO anything in the scene, after all. How could he? He was only two years old.
There is another aspect to the removal of the young princeling, however.
Those of you who hate spoilers should STOP READING HERE. Spoilers will follow, at least for the readers among you. If you have never read FIRE & BLOOD, maybe it does not matter, because all I am going to “spoil” here are things that happen in the book that may NEVER happen on the series. Starting with Maelor himself.
Sometime between the initial decision to remove Maelor, a big change was made. The prince’s birth was no longer just going to be pushed back to season 3. He was never going to be born at all. The younger son of Aegon and Helaena would never appear.
Most of you know about the Butterfly Effect, I assume.
Yes, there was a movie with that title a few years back. It’s a familiar concept in chaos theory as well. But most science fiction fans were first exposed to the idea in Ray Bradbury’s classic time travel story, “A Sound of Thunder,” wherein a time traveler from the present panics and crushes a butterfly while hunting a T-Rex. When he returns to his own time, he discovers that the world has changed in huge and frightening ways. One dead butterfly has rewritten history. The lesson being that change begets change, and even small and seemingly insignificant alterations to a timeline — or a story — can have a profound effect on all that follows.
Maelor is a two year old toddler in FIRE & BLOOD, but like our butterfly he has an impact on the story all out of proportion to his size. The readers among you may recall that when it appears that Rhaenyra and her blacks are about to capture King’s Landing, Queen Alicent becomes concerned for the safety of Helaena’s remaining children, and takes steps to save them by smuggling them out of the city. The task is given is two knights of the Kingsguard. Ser Willis Fell is commanded to deliver Princess Jaehaera to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, while Maelor is given over to Ser Rickard Thorne to be escorted across the Mander to the protection of the Hightower army on its way to King’s Landing.
Willis Fell delivers Jaehaera safely to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, but Ser Rickard fares less well. He and Maelor get as far as Bitterbridge, where he is revealed as a Kingsuard in a tavern called the Hogs Head. Once discovered, Ser Rickard fights bravely to protect his young charge and bring him to safety, but he does not even make it across the bridge before some crossbows bring him down, Prince Maelor is torn from his arms.. and then, sadly, ripped to pieces by the mob fighting over the boy and the huge reward that Rhaenyra has offered for his capture and return.
Will any of that appear on the show? Maybe… but I don’t see how. The butterflies would seem to prohibit it. You could perhaps make Ser Rickard’s ward be Jaehaera instead of Maelor, but Jaehaera can’t be killed, she has a huge role to play as Aegon’s next heir. Could maybe make Maelor a newborn instead of a two year old, but that would scramble up the timeline, which is a bit of a mess already. I have no idea what Ryan has planned — if indeed he has planned anything — but given Maelor’s absence from episode 2, the simplest way to proceed would be just to drop him entirely, lose the bit where Alicent tries to send the kids to safety, drop Rickard Thorne or send him with Willis Fell so Jaehaera has two guards.
From what I know, that seems to be what Ryan is doing here. It’s simplest, yes, and may make sense in terms of budgets and shooting schedules. But simpler is not better. The Bitterbridge scene has tension, suspense, action, bloodshed, a bit of heroism and a lot of tragedy. Rickard Thorne is a tertiary character at best, most viewers (as opposed to readers) will never know he is gone, since they never knew him at all… but I rather liked giving him his brief moment of heroism, a taste of the courage and loyalty of the Kingsguard, regardless of whether they are black or green.
The butterflies are not done with us yet, however. In the book, when word of Prince Maelor’s death and the grisly manner of his passing (pp. 505) reaches the Red Keep, that proves to be the thing that drives Queen Helaena to suicide. She could barely stand to look at Maelor, knowing that she chose him to die in the “Sophie’s Choice” scene… and now he is dead in truth, her words having come true. The grief and guilt are too much for her to bear.
In Ryan’s outline for season 3, Helaena still kills herself… for no particular reason. There is no fresh horror, no triggering event to overwhelm the fragile young queen.
And the final butterfly follows soon thereafter.
Queen Helaena, a sweet and gentle soul, is much beloved by the smallfolk of King’s Landing. Rhaenyra was not, so when rumors began to arise that Helaena did not kill herself, but rather was murdered at Rhaenyra’s command, the commons are quick to believe them. “That night King’s Landing rose in bloody riot,” I wrote on p. 506 of FIRE & BLOOD. It is the beginning of the end for Rhaenyra’s rule over the city, ultimately leading to the Storming of the Dragonpit and the rise of the Shepherd’s mob that drives Rhaenyra to flee the city and return to Dragonstone… and her death.
Maelor by himself means little. He is a small child, does not have a line of dialogue, does nothing of consequence but die… but where and when and how, that does matter. Losing Maelor weakened the end of the Blood and Cheese sequence, but it also cost us the Bitterbridge scene with all its horror and heroism, it undercut the motivation for Helaena’s suicide, and that in turn sent thousands into the streets and alleys, screaming for justice for their “murdered” queen. None of that is essential, I suppose… but all of it does serve a purpose, it all helps to tie the story lines together, so one thing follows another in a logical and convincing manner.
What will we offer the fans instead, once we’ve killed these butterflies? I have no idea. I do not recall that Ryan and I ever discussed this, back when he first told me they were pushing back on Aegon’s second son. Maelor himself is not essential… but if losing him means we also lose Bitterbridge, Helaena’s suicide, and the riots, well… that’s a considerable loss.
And there are larger and more toxic butterflies to come, if HOUSE OF THE DRAGON goes ahead with some of the changes being contemplated for seasons 3 and 4…
GRRM
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Moving - Billy Hargrove
Billy x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Stranger Things
Word count:1,190
Summary: Joyce waiting to move you, Jonathan, Will and El till Billy’s better for your sake. Billy decides to come with and live with you in California. But first he has to ask Joyce.
Authors Note: I love this.
Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
“When are we going to Calfironia?” Jonathan asked his mom wondering how much more time they had left with their friends.
“Soon.” Joyce answered as they continued to eat.
“When is soon? I want to know when I have to say goodbye to the party?” Will pleaded for more of an exact answer.
“We aren’t going till Billy’s better and can leave the hospital.” Joyce told her boys.
“For Y/n’s sake?” Jonathan hoped they wouldn’t leave till Billy was better. For his sister's emotional health most of all. She wouldn’t be able to handle leaving Billy in his current state. The Mall accident was bad all around but Billy got the worst of it, but at least he was alive.
“Yes. For Y/n’s sake. Your sister loves Billy and I’ve seen his love for her.” Joyce nodded in confirmation. What happened to Billy affected him and her daughter the most. Joyce knows for a fact they love each other and seeing him almost die killed Y/n. She couldn’t take her away with Billy still in the hospital.
“I hope he heals fast. I hate seeing her so distraught.” Will nodded in agreement, it was hard seeing his badass sister so broken.
“We all do.” Jonathan reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Billy had treated a lot of them horribly but no one deserved what he did to save El.
^ ^ ^
“Hey” Y/n greeted Billy as she entered his hospital room. She never would’ve left but she wasn’t allowed to stay once visiting hours were over. So Y/n comes back every morning.
“Hey. Did you eat?” Billy questions, he noticed she had gotten thinner and it worried him.
“Yes, I ate.” she nodded, giving him a sarcastic smile, knowing he means well. Y/n to noticed her weight loss like she’s sure he did. But she was still eating, it must be stress.
“Just making sure you're still taking care of yourself.” Billy reached out to grab her hand in his.
“Your my priority right now.” Y/n looked into his eyes, squeezing his hand.
“I can’t be your priority if you end up sick and in the hospital right next to me.” Billy points out with a stern look in his eyes even though he wasn’t angry he’s just worried.
“What’d the doctor say?” Y/n asked changing the subject and hoping the doctor said he’s improving.
“That I can leave and be discharged in two days.” Billy smiled at her pulling her with enough force that she leaned on top of him.
“Thank god.” Y/n smiled, hugging him tightly.
^ ^ ^
“When are you moving?” Billy asked as they sat on her bed in Y/n’s room surrounded by boxes.
“Soon.” Y/n looked down, sadness evident in her demeanor. Leaving Hawkins wasn’t the hard part that made her sad, but leaving Billy? That did. “Mom says we’ll leave in the next couple days.”
The two stayed silent for a while not knowing what to say.
“Hey I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?” After a while Billy spoke up having an idea but he needed to leave the room and if it didn’t go as planned he didn’t want Y/n any more hurt than she already was.
“A coke please.” y/n gives him a tight smile in thanks but still in a sad mood.
Billy walked down the hall into the kitchen and saw Misses Byers just who he was looking for.
“Hi Billy.” Joyce greeted upon seeing him come out of the hallway.
“Hey Joyce.” Billy greeted back as he went to the fridge and grabbed himself and Y/n;s drinks before closing the fridge, turning around and asking. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” Joyce nodds pointing to the table so they both could sit.
“Thanks for staying till I was healed. It means everything to me to have had y/n here for it.” Billy started off by thanking her, he knew they didn’t have to wait but they did and he appreciated it.
“Of course, Billy.” Joyce sent him a smile, it also felt kinda good and odd to hear him thank you. That's not something Billy’s known for. She also knew how hard it must be for him to talk to her like this. With his home life she knows he’s not comfortable around most adult’s.
“I know you’re all moving to California soon. I’m from there and I’ve missed it since the moment I was forced to leave. I don’t want to be seperated from Y/n.” Y/n was the only thing he liked about his time in Hawkins. He was glad in a way he had moved to Hawkins, he met y/n because of it and he wouldn’t have otherwise. “Would you mind if I come with you guys?” he asked nervously.
“Billy you're welcome to join us, and I think it would also be the best decision for you and y/n’s emotional and mental well beginnings.” Joyce smiled warmly at the young man that was going to fight to stay with her daughter. She couldn’t ask for better for her daughter. “You can stay with us as well. Till you find a job and get a place of your own.”
BIlly let out a shocked but relieved breath. Looking Joyce in the eye’s. He was grateful to her. “Thank you, Joyce.”
Joyce waved him off. “You're welcome, and thank you Billy. For the joy and happiness you bring my daughter.”
With the conversation done Billy headed back to Y/n’s room with their drinks.
“Took ya awhile. Thank you.” Y/n smiled, thanking and teasing him. She grabbed her coke, taking a sip all the while Billy walked around the bed to sit across from Y/n on it.
“No problem.” Billy wanted to tell her to badly to wait any longer. “I do have some news.”
“What's up?” Y/n sat up fully giving him all her attention.
“I talked to your mom just now.” he told her as they faced each other.
“Okay?” Y/n stretched out, raising a brow. ‘He talked to my mom?’ she thought, ‘what about?’
“I can’t wait to show you all my favorite places.” he smiled at her. Billy wanted her to figure it out, he watched her look confused for a few seconds before her face lit up and billy let out a laugh knowing she got it.
“You’re coming to Cali?!” Y/n exclaimed with a huge smile across her lips.
“Yeah I’m coming.” Billy nodded with a matching smile.
Y/n leaped across her bed and hugged him, the force knocking them both back so y/n layed on top of him. “Yes! Thank you.”
“No, Y/n. Thank you.” Billy spoke softly, brushing her hair back with one hand and the other wrapped around her waist tightly so Y/n could go anywhere. They were never going to be separated again. Not if he could help it. She saw him for who he was under the asshole he betrayed, she made him a better man.
Taglist:
@padawancat97 @gruffle1 @starkleila @fandom-princess-forevermore @cherriebat
#imagines#imagine#x reader#y/n#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x byers!reader#billy hargrove x byers reader#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove imagines#byers reader#x byers!reader#x byers y/n#x byers!y/n#stranger things#stranger things 2#stranger things 3#johnathan byers#will byers#joyce byers#el
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hc! beecoming three
lottie matthews x fem!reader
summary: the one where you are pregnant and lottie loves to take care of you
warnings: endless amount of fluff it might make you throw up, established relationship, lottie and reader live together, characters are aged up, lottie being protective and an angel, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, not proofread
@l0tt1emy i hope you like this bby
𓆦 ever since you told lottie that she was going to be a mom, she became the happiest woman to ever live
𓆦 it’s not like neither of you weren’t expecting it to happen and had spent lots of money so you could finally be moms, but it was a pleasant surprise
𓆦 except for the fact that lottie’s life only purpose was to take care of you now and it was starting to concern you
𓆦 “baby, just come to bed,” you pout, tapping the empty space on your side as you begged her to join you
𓆦 after dinner, lottie had spent hours fixing the smallest details ever on the baby’s bedroom and organizing a huge bag with itens that could be needed for when you two had to rush to the hospital
𓆦 “but we need to be ready! what if the baby decides to come earlier?” she stops by the door holding diapers, with messy hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and looking exactly like 🥺
𓆦 “lott, the baby is six weeks old”
𓆦 lottie would always wake up early to make you breakfast, trying her best to make it healthy and nutritious for you and the baby. at some days, it was still dark outside when you tattered for her in bed but she wasn’t there because she got up at like 5am to get ingredients for meals
𓆦 when you decided to wake up earlier than usual after noticing her absence, you walk on your tiptoes to the kitchen just to find her mixing the ingredients for pancakes in a bowl
𓆦 quietly, you stop behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, briefly giving her cheek a tender kiss and resting your chin on her shoulder. “good morning, love”
𓆦 lottie wasn’t expecting you to be up so early and immediately flinched at your touch, making you two share a good laugh. she looks back at you and kisses your forehead
𓆦 “what are you doing here so early? are you alright? feeling sick? too cold?” she drops everything she’s doing to fully pay attention to you and make sure you are feeling 100% okay, inspecting every inch of your body and even hair
𓆦 “i’m fine,” you say, grabbing lottie’s anxious hands to hold them firmly in order to calm her nerves, “i just missed you. it’s so early, you should be in bed.”
𓆦 “i’m sorry,” lottie, now less anxious, nods and let go of your hands to gently place her warm touch on your stomach and slowly rub her fingers in a caress
𓆦 “i know i’m exaggerating but i just want everything to be okay,” she pouts and you felt the sudden urge to just squeeze her 😫
𓆦 “everything is fine, lottie. everything will be okay thanks to you,” you smile at her, getting closer to cup her cheeks and smooch her entire face
𓆦 eventually, she got less nervous about everything, not worrying or overthinking the small details too much. that doesn’t mean that she was any less eager to please you
𓆦 a few weeks later, you were in bed and it was past midnight when you couldn’t sleep, craving some ice cream. you didn’t want to wake up lottie and make her leave just to get you stupid ice cream but you would die for it at this point!
𓆦 “do you think the market is open now?” you whisper, turning your head to face lottie. it was almost instantly. the second she connected the words ‘market’ and ‘now’ her eyes fluttered open and she was already getting out of bed
𓆦 “i’m on my way, baby! what do you want?” she doesn’t even change clothes, just put a sweatshirt on top of her pajamas and heads out when she got all the information she needed
𓆦 thirty minutes later, lottie called you from the kitchen and the first thing you see when you get there is the counter covered in lots of ice cream with different flavors and a bunch of sweets and chips as well
𓆦 “oh my god,” you gasp, eyes wide open at the scary amount of food
𓆦 “i wasn’t sure if you liked vanilla so i decided to get others as well,” she explained with a super proud smile, “and some other stuff too cause i don’t want you to be hungry”
𓆦 before feasting on a full carton of ice cream, you were pretty sure that lottie almost ran out of breath thanks to your endless kisses and tight hugs
𓆦 singing to the baby was her thing. lazy sundays would be followed by lottie’s soothing voice singing the most beautiful songs ever and, sometimes, songs she wrote herself
𓆦 not only could she sing but she could spend hours speaking to your belly. telling the baby stories from your teenage years or gossiping about aunties taissa and van, reading stories or just being an adorable goofball, lottie was always near
𓆦 sitting on bed, lottie was lying on your side, elbows against the mattress for support and face inches away from your small bump
𓆦 “fuck!” she gasps, quickly withdrawing her hand from you as she feels the baby kicking into her touch. she was freaking out!
𓆦 “wait, sorry, i meant to say duck! please don’t repeat that,” she talks to the baby, hurrying to get closer again and place her entire palm on you, smiling incredibly big
𓆦 “i think the baby likes your voice, lott,” you whisper, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, keeping your fingers in there to rub her scalp
𓆦 “you think so?” she lift her head up to meet your gaze and she’s adorable. her face lights up like a fucking christmas tree ☹️
𓆦 lottie was having the time of her life any time she had to go out with you to shop baby clothes, accessories for the nursery or, really, anything related to you and your child. decorating the nursery was also her favorite activity
𓆦 she would buy thousands of plushies and cute blankets, millions of colorful books and lots of toys even though the baby wasn’t due for another five months
𓆦 “you won’t believe what i got for our baby!” is the first thing she says as she opens the door, running towards the couch where you were in with a box
𓆦 she lets you open and it’s a TINY SHIRT OF THE YELLOWJACKETS TEAM WITH THE NUMBER ZERO ON IT 😔
𓆦 when it became impossible for you to sleep, always sick, irritated, swollen or just exhausted, lottie would stick to your side and would try her best to not fall asleep
𓆦 “i’m not sleepy, i promise. go on, finish that story,” she murmurs with a tired and raspy voice in the pitch black of the bedroom. you couldn’t see her properly but you felt comfortable with your head resting on her shoulder and her hand around your body
𓆦 “so, jackie was telling me that shauna told her that mari once said that she found a recipe for a soup that included boiling a belt!” the tiny remains of any sleep you had inside you vanished as you were gossiping with your girlfriend
𓆦 “can you believe that? and who would ever eat a boiled belt for dinner? people are so crazy nowadays and i-“ you abruptly stop, shifting positions to look up at lottie snoring
𓆦 “oh, you’re sleeping,” you whisper, tightening your lips to suppress a giggle
𓆦 lottie was worried 24/7 but also extremely protective. even if it was extremely hot outside, she would beg you to carry a jacket with you
𓆦 she thought about bringing a spare jacket for you and carry it around just in case you got cold but she really wanted to give you her jacket cause pooks is just a hopeless romantic angel 🤗
𓆦 lottie was very gentle and careful all the time, but when it came to sex, you could practically beg her to do you and she would still be so hesitant
𓆦 not even when giving her very obvious hints like whining on her ear all day long about how needy you were, letting innocent touches linger or putting on a nice lingerie would be enough to convince her. lottie was too worried with the idea of accidentally hurting you
𓆦 just when lottie was much more used to the daily routine of living with her pregnant girlfriend, you wake her up in the middle of the night, poking her shoulder. “lottie? wake up.”
𓆦 taking all the time in the world to turn the small lamp on, lottie knows that everything is fine. you probably just wanted her to get you something to eat or a drink. the lamp on
𓆦 “want some water, love?” she asks, half asleep, rubbing her eyes that were still adjusting to the light
𓆦 “no, i’m okay. but i think the baby is coming,” you whisper, trying not to panic and to not make your girlfriend panic. the baby was early by four weeks!
𓆦 lottie’s sleepy expression and drowsy eyes quickly fade away as she bolts out of the bed, hitting her knee against the bed frame on her way to you
𓆦 “i told you we should have packed the things for the hospital before!!!”
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Mother’s Day Blues
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader
Word Count: ~900 unedited
Johnny loves Mother’s Day. You hate it.
MDNI | cw: vent fic, big mommy issues, mentioned childhood spanking, ED mention
Johnny loves Mother’s Day.
You hate it.
He watches you stand in the card aisle, shifting side to side, reading every single card. Snatching them up and shutting them hard just to shove them back into their little displays - huffing and growing ever more agitated as you go.
“It doesnnae matter what ye pick, bonnie.” He tries to be encouraging. “They’re all nice.”
“That’s the problem.” You mutter in a voice far too weak and bitter for his liking. “Why can’t they make one that just says, like, ‘You sure are my mom!’”
“Sweetheart…” Johnny knows you’re trying to cover it with humor, but the way your brow furrows breaks his heart. He sets a hand on your waist, pointing to a very generic, sparkly joke card. You nod and take it, grimacing still.
He hates it - hates watching you chew your lip and your hands shake while you pace back and forth before the 10 am alarm you set to call your mom goes off. Hates holding you while you sob in his lap after because of course she had to ask in a pathetic, whiny voice ‘is everything okay with us’ when she knows damn well it isn’t. When she won’t ever try to fix it or admit that she fucked up.
You carry the effects of the way she raised you everywhere you go. Johnny sees them all - knows them all by heart. Every time he notices you cutting portions and weighing yourself more than normal. When you use cruel words to describe your body. Every time you don’t tell him that you’re upset with him because you’re frightened of his reaction - body shaking so hard that you look like an earthquake personified. The lack of confidence in your interactions with others, how easily you fold and are ready to people please. Every time you get that glazed over, far away look in your eye after you remember something a little too clearly.
You only took him to meet her once. He’s never wanted to punch a woman like that before.
Johnny is, and always has been, of the opinion that you should cut contact. Cold turkey. Block her on everything and leave it be. You’ve argued about it more times than he can count, going back and forth about what would happen if you did. What the worst outcome could be.
“It’s not like she hit me…” You mutter.
“Spankin’ is hittin’, love.” Johnny takes your hands. “And it doesnnae matter if she did or not. She was rotten tae ye in every other way.”
You just get quiet. Tears well up in your eyes and what is he supposed to do when you get like that? Keep fighting? No, never. It’s your decision anyway. He just hates what she does to you and, by extension, how it effects your relationship with his mother.
Every time you visit is perfectly cordial. His mum loves you - sees you as her own. You’re Johnny’s after all. Her only son. You want to love her. You really, really do but when she says ‘I love you’ it feels like you’re going to die. Every time she hugs you he can see the way your shoulders tense up by your ears and your lips purse.
They’ve talked about it. Johnny and his mum. The horrified look she gave him when he told her only the little he knew at the time was more than enough. Bless her. She made it her goal to be the perfect mother-in-law. Never overbearing, never too needy. To love you quietly and meet you where you’re at.
He’s cried over it a few times - though he’d never admit it - watching her treat you with the gentle hands and words you deserve. It breaks his heart as you try to figure out what to do with it.
Johnny has known he wants to marry you for a long time. You’ve both talked about it, both made it known that you’re fully committed to one another forever. It’s just hard to plan a proposal when he isn’t sure how long he’ll be in town. He got the ring months ago and has just been holding onto it for the right time. So, in the end, he decides to be a bit spontaneous with it. His whole family is going on a beach day, and you look so pretty in your little cover up dresses.
His little nieces and nephews gladly help him set up a little path leading to a circle of flowers. His sister brings her big, fancy camera to take pictures while his other sister hints at you to wear something cute and invited you to get your nails done a week before.
Thank god you’re one of the most oblivious people on the planet.
Of course you say yes, tackling him down into the sand while you both cry. He knew you’d say yea but it still fills his heart to bursting. He buries his face in your neck to hide it, but he can’t stop it. You’re his, always and forever.
As the family congratulates and talks, his mother finally comes up and tenderly takes both your hands in hers.“Welcome to the family, love. It’s so nice to have another daughter.”
Johnny freezes, watching for your reaction.
Your eyes turn to saucers, a quiet hiccup shaking your chest before a full on sob follows. You bury your face in your hands and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. Johnny grabs onto you both.
She might not be your mum by blood, and you may never truly open up to her, but either way you deserve a good mother. He’s more than happy to share his own. Maybe someday you’ll heal. Little by little, by the same gentle hands that raised him.
A/N: Sorry for the angst but Mother’s Day has me fucked up.
#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#fem reader#ed trigger warning#cod x reader#reader insert#vent fic
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What do you think about Molly Weasley?
I have a lot of thoughts about Molly Weasley. I think she’s a fantastic character, just not in the way that JKR intended.
I think the intention was to make Molly kind of a mama bear. Fiercely loving, fiercely protective, hot tempered… but you know. In a cute way. In a warm way. I do think that Movie!Molly threads this needle. (I also think that her bear-ears hairstyle is perhaps intentional.)
Movie!Molly gets her big duel with Bellatrix, she gets (reasonably) annoyed at the boys for stealing the car. Her only spicy moment is the Howler… which is softened and made more comedic by 1) including a nice message for Ginny at the end 2) including a tongue-sticking-out moment, which turns the whole thing into more of a joke on Molly. Now it’s your mom being kind of weird and embarrassing… versus her public shaming you, toxic tik-tok mom style. The Howler is much worse in the book: “I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS.”
So let’s talk Book!Molly, because there’s a lot there. She’s a Prewett, growing up in a more *typical* pure blood family as opposed to being a “blood traitor” Weasley. (Cedrella Black was disowned for marrying a Weasley, Lucretia Black married a Prewett no problem.) Molly also married Arthur really young, and really quickly. It’s even lightly implied they married too quickly -
“I just think [Bill and Fleur] have hurried into this engagement, that’s all!” “They’ve known each other a year,” said Ron (...) “Well, that’s not very long! I know why it’s happened, of course. It’s all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they’re rushing all sorts of decisions they’d normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center —” “Including you and Dad,” said Ginny slyly. “Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?” said Mrs. Weasley.
There’s some psychological truth to that. (Also, Molly and Arthur were 100% hooking up while at Hogwarts:)
“[The Fat Lady] was here in my time,” said Mrs. Weasley. “She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning —” “What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?” said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement. Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll,” she said.
And the timeline’s too fuzzy to know for sure… but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Molly getting pregnant with Bill was one of the reasons she and Arthur got married so fast.
It’s hard to say, because you never get a great sense of their relationship, but I’m actually not sure how compatible the two of them are, or if they would have gotten married at all if it hadn't been for the war and all these external factors. There is an ongoing conflict between them: Arthur is a political radical who seems to enjoy upsetting the Malfoys - he’s not playing nice, he doesn't have a prestigious job, he’s not getting a promotion anytime soon, and he’s fine with this. His interest in muggles is fringe counterculture stuff, and his hobby is illegal. And Molly… is pretty establishment. She wants her sons to be Head Boys and Prefects, and then she wants them to get jobs at the Ministry:
“Mum went mad at [Fred and George after finding their prank candy.] Told them they weren’t allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms. . . . She’s furious at them anyway. They didn’t get as many O.W.L.s as she expected.” “And then there was this big row,” Ginny said, “because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop.”
Like we hear about this interaction secondhand, which softens the emotion, but I’m sorry? Molly burned their order forms? She wants them to do jobs they very clearly have no aptitude for, instead of being entrepreneurs? Arthur sides with the twins, and of course he does. They’re anarchists just like he is. But it *really* bothers Molly, and this conflict just keeps coming up.
[sidenote. You cannot tell that Arthur Weasley, once he was in his late 20s/early 30s, once he had grown into himself a bit. Tell me that this man didn’t once think “you know, I really should have married a Muggle. That would’ve been perfect.”’]
But back to Molly Weasley, nee Prewett. She wants a big family, and there is no way this doesn't have something to do with the fact that both her brothers were just brutally killed. She’s trying to distract herself, fill some void, find some meaning. The fact that it doesn’t work (because how could it, she’s got just buckets of unprocessed trauma) is maybe why she is so set on having a girl. Maybe a little baby girl is what she needs.
In the main timeline of the book, Molly 100% needs enrichment. She needs to start breeding alpacas or join a book club or get a job. (Job could be cool, especially since she has no kids at home and money is an issue.) Like come on, Molly is intense, Type A, and powerful. Possibly one of the best duelists in the entire series. She takes out Voldemort’s number two, and Bellatrix has already defeated Sirius - incredibly talented and powerful in his own right. I do think that the reason JKR made this choice (instead of letting Neville have a confrontation with Bellatrix, which would have been more narratively straightforward) is because (whether consciously or unconsciously) she doesn’t like the idea of one of her good-guy GUY characters hurting a woman. So Molly defeats Bellatrix with magic mom powers, which is the same reason Narcissia can lie to Voldemort’s face I guess.
What Molly definitely does NOT need to be doing is obsessing about her kids' significant others. Like take Fleur. (Who I think we as readers were meant to dislike more than we actually did?) Fleur is great. So when Molly has a problem with her… then starts trying to matchmake Bill with Tonks… until Tonks (another fan favorite) also starts annoying her… it makes Molly looks really unreasonable. Also, let Bill have his long hair and earring.
She gets weird about Hermione in Book 4, after she believes Rita Skeeter’s write-up that she's some sort of temptress playing Harry and Krum off each other. Instead of, idk, asking Harry (who she thinks of as a surrogate son) she sends Hermione a passive-agressive comically undersized chocolate egg. Harry and Ron get huge ones. That’s not cute, or funny.
Also, Percy and Penelope Clearwater. I know the real-world reason Percy hides his relationship in Book 2 is so he can be a red herring acting all suspicious… but in universe, I guess Percy just wants to date someone without his mom being weird about it? Like Penelope Clearwater is nice and normal and fine. Why is he hiding this relationship?
Then there’s Molly the disciplinarian, which we mostly see in the context of Fred and George (although there is also Ron being public-shamed by the Howler.) She is constantly giving the twins a hard time about their life choices, their jokes. Ron says “I remember Mum walloping Fred with her broomstick." Then yeah, she burns their order forms. She does feel bad about this later, and after the whole thing at the Quidditch World Cup hugs them and says, “What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn’t get enough O.W.L.s?” It’s meant to be a sweet moment, but this would annoy me just a little. It’s a little like saying, “I’m glad I don’t have to think of myself as being a bad mother.”
I also want to point out Molly's pretty clear favoritism. Fred and George are the problem children, Ginny is the baby (although we almost never see her and her mother interact, so it’s actually very hard to say what their relationship is like), and Percy is the golden child. We see how this sort of sets him apart from all his siblings, how he's described as pompous and full of himself, but also how he’s secretive and hides things from his family. It’s kind of precarious being the golden child, and when he finally does stop pleasing his mother he falls hard. (Although I will always be a big believer in Daddy Issues!Percy. That has to be why he commits that hard to Barty Crouch Sr that fast, and then ignores that many red flags.)
And of course Ron is the invisible child. Almost the first thing we hear him say is, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.” That one can slide. Molly’s got five kids at home, she made corn beef sandwiches, not everyone is going to be equally happy. But Ron’s clothes. Molly makes her own clothes, she's defined by her facility with household magic. She knits Ron sweaters... but at least two of them are maroon despite the fact that Ron hates maroon. His room is plastered top to bottom in bright orange Chudley Cannons merch. She couldn’t make him an orange sweater? There’s also the issue with the dress robes. Ron clearly doesn’t like them (“Mum, you’ve given me Ginny’s new dress.”) But he is the one who cuts off the lace trim later, and he doesn’t do an amazing job. I know that it's a joke, but like. That sounds like a job for Molly.
We do get Horcrux!Hermione telling Ron that he is the “Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter,” so this idea of Molly picking favorites is *kind of* in the text. But Horcrux!Hermione is wrong about Harry/Hermione being a thing, so maybe we’re meant to read this as Ron’s baseless anxiety? It doesn’t feel like that though. What it actually feels like is an unresolved plot thread.
So here’s my take on Molly Weasley. This is someone who is pretty high-powered, who suffered a period of emotional upheaval, then got married and started having kids because she kind of thought that was what you do - and it wasn’t as fulfilling as she thought it would be. I think a lot of her comments come off as *meaner* than JKR intended, because let’s face it - JKR has a kind of mean sense of humor. And if I want to speculate further… I think there are quite a few parallels between Molly Weasley and JKR. I don't think she put them there consciously.
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Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)
Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.
Word Count: 3,073
Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!
Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?
I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.
“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”
Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?
“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”
“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”
Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.
“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.
“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”
Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.
“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”
With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.
“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”
Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.
“Sure, yeah, okay.”
Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.
Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.
“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.
“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”
With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.
“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.
He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.
“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”
Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.
Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.
“Let’s have some fun boys.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.
Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”
Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.
“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.
“You’re dead, cherry pop.”
Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.
“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”
“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.
“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.
“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”
As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.
“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”
She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.
“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”
“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”
“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.
“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.
“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”
“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.
“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.
“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.
As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.
“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.
The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.
“I’m Y/N.”
The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.
“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”
“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.
“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”
His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.
“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.
At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.
Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”
I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.
“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.
“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.
“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”
“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.
“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”
The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.
“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.
“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”
“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.
“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.
As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.
#wally clark#wally clark x reader#wally clark fic#wally clark imagines#school spirits#school spirits fic#school spirits imagines#wally clark angst#wally clark fluff
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