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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

just a kid [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: you're a field medic at the Avengers Tower and get into an accident where you hurt your head. It was only supposed to be a mild concussion, yet things don't seem to be going right when you try to remember the accident.

warning/s: mentions of violent/dark scenes.

author's note: here’s the first of a little two-parter I worked on not long ago, hope you all like it!

part two | masterlist | wattpad

I woke up with heavy eyes and an aching head, momentarily dazed.

"Hey there, Doctor Y/L/N... can you hear me okay?"

Breathing deeply, I found the energy to clear my throat and scan the view above me. I was laying down on a bed, in a hospital room, I think. The lights were ever so bright and I now knew how annoying it felt to wake up like this as my patients had.

"What happened?" I asked, eyes roaming around until they settled on my doctor. "Doctor Maya? What am I–? Why am I here?"

I recognised Doctor Maya as a colleague of mine, though unlike me, she was a doctor who worked at the Avengers Tower whereas I worked as a field medic so was more on the move. The only reason I'd be here is if I was in an accident. Was I? I wasn't sure.

"Something happened when you were on your last mission," she explained gently. "I– hold on. I'm going to get Miss Maximoff, okay?"

"Wanda?" I asked, furrowing my brows and pinching them to relieve the stress in my head. "Where is she? Is she here?"

"She just nipped out," Doctor Maya said, before backing up. "One second, Y/N."

She left the room momentarily, leaving me to try and remember what had happened. I was on the quinjet and was getting briefed with my team. There were casualties that we had to get to and an agent– an agent I was helping, yes!

I groaned, clutching my head when I tried to remember. Deciding I shouldn't push myself so soon, I waited until the doctor returned with Wanda. Maybe they could tell me how I ended up here. I wasn't exactly injured, at least not physically and that I knew of. My head hurt and that was about it.

The door to my room opened suddenly and I looked that way, seeing Wanda rushing in wearing her civilian clothing. The doctor followed soon after, gently closing the door behind her.

"You're awake," Wanda said with relief, stopping by my bedside. Her hand rested on mine, squeezing it comfortingly. "How are you feeling?"

I smiled upon seeing her, even if she was staring at me like I was a fragile piece of glass. We'd been dating for a while now and she always had the power to make me feel better with her presence.

"I'm alright," I promised. "Just a bit confused to what happened. The last thing I remember is going into the field. Then I woke up here."

She chewed on her lower lip, exchanging unreadable glances with the doctor.

"There was a mine that detonated near you when you were helping an injured agent," Wanda explained softly, and I opened my mouth to speak, but she quickly added, "The agent is okay before you ask. But you hit your head from the impact. Mild concussion."

"That's why your head hurts and you're having trouble remembering," the doctor said, earning my attention. "You should be feeling better soon. And I've got some medication for the pain."

Now that Wanda mentioned it, I did vaguely recall being thrown back by a blast. But remembering it was like watching a film with poor satellite, the screen fuzzing around the edges and remaining unclear even though you focused hard. I was sure it would return to me soon.

"Thanks," I said, before attempting to sit up straight. Wanda helped me as I looked to her with gratitude before paying my attention back to Doctor Maya. "Am I alright to leave?"

"Of course, yeah," she said, nodding quickly. "Feel free to come back if you have any trouble. You should be okay though."

I nodded and smiled gratefully before watching her leave. Sighing, I pushed my hair from my face and looked to Wanda who was hanging by me patiently, eyes twinkling with concern.

"I'm fine," I promised her with a knowing look.

She gave me a small smile – her way of saying I'm still worried, but I'll dial it down – then moved to the chair beside the bed and grabbed some clothes.

"You can change into this," she said about the clothes in her hand, and I was sure they were some of hers; mine must have been ruined from the mine. "And if you want, you can stay with me whilst you recover."

I raised my eyebrows as I accepted the clothes. "You sure? It's nothing serious. I can take care of myself."

She shrugged, eyes avoiding mine with embarrassment as her hands played with mine. "I wanna help. I like looking after you... plus, you've stayed at mine before. This isn't any different. And you can be closer to Doctor Maya in case anything is wrong."

I weighed the decision briefly before giving in, unable to resist how cute she was when she was worried. "Okay, yeah, sure, why not?" She smiled widely, and I added, "Any excuse to cuddle with you, right?"

She chuckled. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Just let me get ready and we can head to your room. I'm actually a little tired."

She nodded and helped me up so I could get ready. I didn't think much of the whole thing, until later that night when I fell asleep beside Wanda.

My dreams never usually meant much. I wasn't one for reading into them, nor was I one to get seriously affected by 'nightmares', knowing they were usually a concoction of bad horror films and stupid ghost stories from my childhood.

But tonight was different.

It wasn't a dream and it wasn't a nightmare, but rather a memory that couldn't exist.

There was debris everywhere, a mixture of yellow rays blinding my sight with dark shadows looming over me. Destroyed buildings and scattered bodies – none were alive – surrounded me. The heat was too much, but I had a job. I knew I had a job, but I couldn't focus because of how fast my heart was racing, beating an incessant drum in my ears, and how rigid my body felt.

"Help!" a voice was shouting. A young girl, I think – she sounded like a kid. Who was it?

Before I could make sense of anything, I heard a loud noise, like an explosion, that sounded so close yet also extremely distant. Nonetheless, my eardrums weren't spared. The mine, maybe? Was this a memory? Was this how I got hurt?

I was thrown back, head hitting a wall, but I didn't pass out. There was a figure looming over me, short, like a child's shadow, but with no visible face or features. Nothing, actually, just a dark outline staring at me though I couldn't stare back because there was nothing to stare at.

The shouts for help returned, but it was distant like the explosion. I couldn't make sense of anything, and when I closed my eyes to blink, I opened them to find debris washing over me all over again, flying in the air along with my body. It had to be the explosion, my memory returning.

This time, when I hit the wall, I woke with a start. My eyes snapped open, taking in the dark room and nightly blue hue casting over the ceiling and walls. I swallowed hard, finding my breath, and raised my hand to gently massage my forehead. An aching pain was shooting all over, forcing me to sit up as slowly as I could as to not wake up Wanda, who appeared to be fast asleep beside me.

I checked the clock beside her bed and saw it was closing on half three in the morning. I went to bed around nine, which was also when I last had my medication. Doctor Maya said I could have it every five to seven hours and when I got a severe headache.

"I guess this counts...," I mumbled to myself, before grabbing the medication and bottle of water beside the clock.

I downed the two tablets within seconds before sitting upright for a few more minutes, needing a moment to myself before attempting to get back to sleep.

"Y/N...? Are you up?"

I winced at the sound of Wanda's groggy voice, immediately feeling bad for waking her. I turned around and saw her rubbing her eyes with one hand whilst blinking away her fatigue.

"Just have a headache, don't worry," I reassured quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "You can go back to sleep."

"Do you need me to get you anything?" she asked, finally able to keep her eyes open long enough to meet my gaze with her cloudy green ones.

I smiled through my exhaustion. "I'm okay, love. I've had some medicine."

"Well, I can get you something to–" she began, trying to make a move to sit up, but I pushed her back down gently.

"I'm okay," I repeated sternly, before slipping back into bed beside her. Wrapping an arm around her torso, I said, "Get back to sleep."

She nodded tiredly, getting comfortable and pulling me closer to her. I felt her arm wrap around me as I snuggled closer, relaxing in her embrace.

"Wake me if something is wrong," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you, too," I returned, kissing the closest thing to me which was her chest. "Goodnight."

Admittedly, it was still difficult for me to fall back asleep. It must have been no longer than ten minutes when I heard Wanda's breathing and felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath me – she'd fallen back asleep. I sighed, slightly jealous, but stayed close to her and tried not to think about my accident or my weird dream/nightmare. Eventually, slumber found me.

The next morning, I didn't exactly feel well-rested, but I didn't want to concern Wanda nor draw attention to it as I knew it was probably just a rough first night. Instead, I let myself get distracted with Wanda wanting to cook me breakfast.

I soon found myself in the kitchen, sitting at the island and watching Wanda cook some pancakes for us both with an endearing smile on my lips. She was still in her pyjamas like me, her red hair pulled into a messy ponytail as an afterthought, and she radiated beauty. Right there, I could only wish my future looked exactly like this.

My moment of admiration was interrupted when someone came into the kitchen, earning our attention. It was Sam, one of the Avengers and a colleague of Wanda's.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted with a smile. Already dressed for the day ahead, he asked, "Do I smell pancakes?"

"They're for Y/N, so back off," Wanda said playfully, pointing her spatula at him threateningly.

He raised his hands with defeat as I chuckled.

"Relax, I've got a shake," he said, grabbing said protein shake from the fridge. "Enjoy your pancakes." He glanced to me, expression softening as he added, "And I hope you feel better, Y/N. I heard about your accident."

"Thank you, Sam," I said gratefully, noticing the way Wanda flinched at his words. "I'm already feeling better, so..."

"That's great," he said genuinely, before looking between us. "I'll catch you guys later."

We both waved our goodbyes to him as he left. I wanted to question what was up with Wanda just then, but as Sam left the kitchen, the door slammed shut and startled me more than I thought it would. The noise sounded so familiar, so loud, kind of like what I heard last night in my dream. It must have been the mine when it exploded, a ghost of a memory that was returning. But that didn't seem right. Why didn't that seem right?

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up, only to notice she was now standing by my side and looking down at me with concern.

I licked my lips, nodding. "Yeah, sorry, I just... yeah. I'm fine."

Her eyes were swimming with doubt, but she chose to say nothing. Instead, to my relief, she pulled me close, giving me a quick hug which I appreciated. As my head rested against her chest, I tried to ignore the familiar striking pain travelling around my forehead.

—

It was two nights later when another strange dream plagued my sleep. Similar to last time, there was a strange combination of scenes that I was sure I remembered and scenes that made no sense. This time though, all that I could feel was a tenseness in my whole body, like I was in a frozen state and my mind and body couldn't communicate. I couldn't move, paralysed by... fear? Shock? Disbelief? I didn't know what it was, but I woke up in the same way.

I'd heard of sleep paralysis, even experienced it a few times without realising. I think this was one of those times, with my body frozen in bed beside Wanda, but I didn't know it at the time. It just felt like a horribly-real dream. The room was dark, the familiar, yet unsettling, nightly blue hue casting shadows on the wall. But on the ceiling, bright and terrifying scenes played out before me. An explosion. Debris. Screaming.

None of it made sense and all I could feel was shock, horrified at how I couldn't move a muscle even if I tried. I tilted my head, seeing the alarm clock glowing red in the dark, letting me know it was past midnight. To the left, I saw a sleeping Wanda, lost in her dreams and unable to help me. I wanted to get up, run my hands over my face, have some water, open a window, do something. But I couldn't move. All I could do was watch the nightmare dance across the ceiling as my heart struggled to beat regularly and my lungs struggled to get enough oxygen.

I didn't know how long I was stuck like that, tears brimming my eyes and body paralysed with fear. But it finally ended and I opened my eyes, only to find the ceiling blank and myself able to move. Reluctantly, I lifted my hand, wiping the tears from my cheeks. It was just a dream (or form of sleep paralysis in hindsight). It wasn't real. But God, it felt horribly terrifying.

Admittedly, I was scared to go back to sleep for fear it would occur again. So, my eyes stayed wide awake, burning with exhaustion, and I continued to stare at the shadows on the wall, feeling my heart pounding in my ears.

I must have fallen asleep again at some point, as I woke up the next morning to Wanda getting out of bed. Sitting up in bed, I looked around and found the fear of last night wearing off now that the room was bathed in the morning light. Still, I was more shaken than I thought.

Not wanting to draw attention to it though, I let the day go on as usual, deciding to appreciate the free time I had from work to spend with Wanda. We decided to go to the park for a walk – Wanda thought it would help get me out of the Tower and I was hoping the fresh air would give me some clarity and help me to recover.

Only, it did the opposite.

We were walking hand in hand, myself listening to Wanda as she chatted about something that happened in training. If I'm being honest, I wasn't really listening; my thoughts were preoccupied with the jumbled mess that was my mind. Glimpses of memories were dancing across my head, teasing me with elements of the truth I couldn't quite make out.

My eyes drifted around mindlessly, settling on a little girl playing by the swings with her parents. I didn't think much of it, but then the familiar shouts for help from my nightmare plagued my mind, making me flinch. The dark, looming shadow returned and I suddenly felt a headache coming on, the pressure against my brain making me nauseous.

I stopped abruptly, letting go of Wanda's hand. She stopped speaking, turning around and furrowing her brows with concern.

"Hey, Y/N, what's wrong?" she asked, and I winced, clutching my head to relieve the pain.

The wave of nausea left after a moment, but the headache remained. I heard Wanda repeat my name quietly, sensing my discomfort.

"I think I need to see Doctor Maya again," I finally found my words.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, resting a hand on my cheek and tilting my head up to meet her eyes. "You can tell me."

Her eyes were reassuring, calming me in an instant. I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn't want to burden her with my anxieties, so I offered her a small smile.

"I just don't think my recovery is as straightforward as I thought," I settled. "She may be able to help."

Wanda chewed her lower lip, nodding slowly. Thankfully, she didn't question me anymore. Instead, she took me back to the Tower to see Doctor Maya. I was grateful as she waited with me for her to be free, until I had to convince her I'd be okay going in myself.

"Are you sure? I don't mind," she said, exchanging looks with Doctor Maya, who looked away quickly.

I glanced between them, mildly confused, but nodded to Wanda. "I'd rather go alone, Wanda. I'll be okay."

She nodded, squeezed my hands comfortingly, then let me go. When I headed into Doctor Maya's office, she took a seat behind her desk and motioned for me to sit before her.

"You said this was urgent," she spoke first, after I took a seat opposite. "Is everything okay?"

I licked my lips, looking down at my hand as it scratched the arm of the chair nervously. "No... not really."

After a moment of hesitation and partial embarrassment, since I knew this was only supposed to be a mild concussion that felt like so much more, I explained everything that happened to Doctor Maya. The odd dreams/nightmares, the headaches, the overlapping memories and sleep paralysis. As hard as it was to relive, I told her everything in hopes she had an answer that maybe I hadn't realised.

When I finished speaking, she looked distracted with her own thoughts. I waited patiently, watching as she nodded to herself before looking to me calmly.

"It doesn't seem like anything to worry about, truthfully," she said, which I didn't expect. "You suffered a mild concussion, yes, but it must have rattled you more than we thought. The dreams and trouble sleeping are a result of your headaches and returning memories. You do remember what happened, right?"

I nodded, though something felt incorrect. "I think so, yes. I was helping an agent when a mine went off. I was thrown back, covered in debris. Hit my head."

She hummed. "Yes... and you're taking your medication?"

Another nod. "Of course. I just want to get better. The sooner I do, the sooner I can return to work."

"Then it seems that your only opponent is stress and impatience," she said simply. "You need to relax. Keep taking your meds. Try not to worry about returning to work just yet. Focus on getting better. I can prescribe you some sleeping pills if you think that will help."

Sighing disappointedly, I nodded. I was expecting more to be honest, possibly an explanation. Her words made sense logically, but it still didn't feel right. Nonetheless, I didn't want to hold her up any longer, so I let her prescribe me some more medication before leaving. Maybe I'd give relaxing a shot.

—

"It's a meatball."

I stifled a laugh as I studied the oddly shaped ball of meat in Wanda's hand. "Is it?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "It is otherwise you're making your own meal."

I laughed, pressing a haste kiss to her cheek. "Okay, okay, it's a meatball. Add it to the tray."

We were cooking spaghetti and meatballs for dinner about six days after my incident out in the field. I was still staying with Wanda at the Tower, and I was taking Doctor Maya's advice with my recovery. I didn't worry myself with returning to work which, admittedly, helped out, and the sleeping pills knocked me out long enough to get a good sleep. Though, sometimes the nightmares would still return. I didn't think about them too much though, not wanting them to hinder my recovery. Instead, I focused on getting better with my very supportive girlfriend by my side.

Wanda added the meatball to the baking tray, alongside the others, but as she reached to form another one from the bowl full of minced meat, she accidentally knocked it to the floor. The meat splattered across the tiles, making her gasp.

"Shit," she cursed, eyes widening slightly.

"Very clever," I teased with a smile.

"Let me just–"

"I got it," I cut her off, already bending to clear it up. "Just put the tray in the oven, yeah? Try not to drop it."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

I looked up in time to see her rolling her eyes playfully, but she grabbed the tray as I said.

I kneeled down, scooping the meat up and throwing it in the bowl, knowing it would have to go in the bin now. As I did, I realised how familiar the meat looked. Pink and flesh-like, covering my hands and sticking to me. Suddenly, my hands were shaking, the fleshy bits surrounded by blood, and I tried to blink away the sight, expecting to just see minced meat, but I couldn't. They were covered in what I somehow knew was the flesh of body parts.

Startled, I fell back onto my butt, my back hitting the drawer behind me and pulling me from my daydream. Wanda looked down at me with confusion, before sensing something was wrong and leaning down beside me. She rested a hand on my head, thumb stroking my forehead.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused eyes staring between me and my hands which were still shaking. She grabbed the tea towel from the counter above us before wiping my hands for me and holding them. "Y/N. This has happened a few times. Please tell me what happened."

I was still shaken, unsure why there was a discomfort in the pit of my stomach. I risked glancing at my hands, which were clean and no longer covered in human fle– I mean, meat.

"I don't know what's going on," I finally admitted to her, shaking my head. "It's like my thoughts aren't my own. I can't control them. I just keep seeing stuff that isn't real."

She frowned, eyes peering through mine patiently.

"I still can't remember what happened with the mine," I said, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. "It's like, I know what happened and I know it's real, but when I try to remember, it just doesn't happen quite right. The picture doesn't appear. And I don't know why."

She pressed her lips together, jaw clenching slightly. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"What did the doctor say?" she asked lowly.

I sighed, the discomfort still lining my stomach. "She thinks I just need time."

Wanda nodded, finally lifting her gaze. "Maybe she's right."

I knitted my brows together with frustration, nudging her away and standing up. "I don't need time! I'm a doctor, too. I know it shouldn't take this long. It was a mild concussion. I've treated hundreds of those."

"Y/N–"

"Just forget it," I said with exasperation, pulling away from her as she tried to reach out again. I knew it was uncalled for, taking it out on her for no reason, but I was too frustrated with the situation to care. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk."

She sighed from behind me, running a hand through her hair. I left her in the kitchen, suddenly not in the mood to eat. Clearly all of Doctor Maya's advice wasn't working – what I was experiencing wasn't normal. I needed to see her again.

So, after cleaning my hands properly and having a walk around the Tower to clear my head (as expected, it didn't work), I headed to Doctor Maya's office, hoping she was still in work today. To my surprise, when I reached her office, I saw her door was slightly ajar and she was already speaking to someone. My intention wasn't to eavesdrop, but when I heard my name said in a hushed whisper from a familiar voice, I knew I had to stay.

"...can't say anything," Wanda finished. "She'll get better."

Doctor Maya sounded frustrated. "It's not right, Miss Maximoff. This is against everything I stand for. Against everything Y/N stands for, too, I'm sure."

"This is for her benefit," Wanda snapped, before taking a deep breath. "Look, she can't handle the truth. It'll break her... I haven't worked out the kinks, but it'll be okay. She'll get better."

What the hell were they talking about? What truth could I not handle? Wanda and the doctor were in on something together, something they didn't want me to know... and it was something to do with why I was feeling like how I was. I knew I wasn't going insane – something was wrong!

I left them to it with plans of seeing the doctor afterwards, not wanting to get caught, and tried to wrap my head around the fact that Wanda had been keeping something from me this whole time. How could she? I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I thought that we could trust each other.

What was she hiding?

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlet witch #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu #marvel

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carelessannie · 3 years ago

Text

refreshments Steve is a pianist who accepts a gig at a coveted, high-class restaurant. What he doesn’t expect are the “perks” for working the evening.

Inspired by this video Chris posted, and really had no right to. Pairing: Steve x Peter (Spidershield) Rating: E Warnings: public sex, blow jobs, dub-con Read here on AO3

Steve is led through the restaurant towards the lounge where the baby grand piano waits for him. He spares a quick glance around the room, noting three couples hidden in private booths and a larger party of businessmen at the banquet table. It's still quiet, even with evening business starting to pick up, and the host motions for him to sit at the piano bench.

"Can we provide you with refreshments tonight, Mr. Rogers?" the host asks, voice hushed in the respectful environment.

"Oh, uh..." Steve looks pointedly at the piano, but the host doesn't seem deterred. Alright. A drink might be nice. "What do you have that's good?"

"We could bring you a menu..."

"No, no— just bring me whatever's best."

The host looks startled, but recovers quickly and nods, "Alright. Do you have a preference?"

"A preference for..."

"Your server? Male or female?"

That's weird. Steve just chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head, "No, I really don't care who it is. Would I be able to get water all night though? It probably won't be good to get dehydrated while playing, right?"

The host just nods, serious, and Steve's smile falls flat. It's fine— he's not here for comedy, he's here to play for rich families and socialites on a Saturday evening. His host gives another nod before backing away, disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

Steve shakes it off.

Most of his music is memorized, and the only thing on his tablet is a set list and database in case he gets a request he doesn't know. With twelve minutes to go, Steve pushes back to use the restroom and is stopped by a hand in the crook of his arm.

"Oh, sorry, I'm just..." Steve sputters to a stop, eyes trailing lower and lower and lower until he finally meets deep, honey brown eyes. Oh sweet mercy— this boy is gorgeous, heaven-sent, and Steve is suddenly aware of every inch of his body, just how awkward he feels in front of the young man at least five years his junior.

The boy's eyes drop, a shy smile ghosting over his face as his cheeks darken. Oh. Okay, so maybe not so awkward.

"Sorry," Steve extends a hand, "my name is Steve."

"You ordered refreshments for the evening?" The boy responds instead of an introduction, blinking up through long lashes.

"Oh, I... yes. You're my... okay, okay sure, please."

The boy holds up a glass of water, and Steve jumps to take it, startled when the younger man giggles in amusement, "I can put it down, Steve."

Oh, his name sounds gorgeous in this boy's mouth. He lets the server put down his water cup— coaster napkin and everything— before offering his hand again. This time the boy only hesitates a moment before taking the offer, hand dainty and warm in his grasp.

"I need to use the restroom before I begin— could I get your name?"

Dark eyes widen in surprise, and the boy pulls back a bit, "Peter. M'name's Peter."

Peter. Darling. Hot as fuck. Steve rushes back as fast as he can, disappointed when the young server is nowhere in sight. Well. That's okay, probably best not to have distractions tonight.

Steve sits gingerly, closing his eyes to center himself. He cracks his knuckles, takes a few sips of water, and then runs his fingers lightly back and forth on the keys, silently worshiping the instrument in front of him before settling into the first chord.

It rolls effortlessly through his wrists, pressing each key lovingly, and letting his foot pump and sustain the dissonance. Every breath in the room is held, every eye on him.

He holds for an exhale, wets his lips, and then dives into the piece, filling the room with a joyful dance through his fingers, his body. God, he loves this. Loves watching people tune him out, accepting his music as their new normal. Loves how sometimes he'll catch someone closing their eyes, turning their face towards him like a daisy, eager for sunlight in their dark, gray day.

The first time he feels it, he's sure it's a mistake. A shift of his pants, or a draft under the piano and across his legs. Steve shifts a bit to rearrange himself and lays back into the keys, losing himself in the music again.

The second time, he jumps, smashing his knee against the underside of the keyboard. What the... hell?

There are fingers at his waistband, tugging at his shirt where it's tucked into his pants, and deftly undoing the button and zipper. Steve can't even look down. When he tries, all he can see are nimble fingers and— oh god, are those his server's hands?

He freezes when a hand reaches down into his pants, and he misses a key, bringing the song to a halt. Every eye is suddenly on him, and his pants are open, and he's still being paid...

And Steve just continues, giving the crowd a sheepish grin and jumping back into the line he had just missed. It's hard to concentrate with hands in his pants, pulling down his briefs, and fishing around boldly.

Oh, shit. Peter wraps a warm hand around his dick, squeezing firmly, and peeling his pants and briefs down with the other hand. Why is he under the fucking piano? Why is he inside Steve's pants, touching— oh god, and licking— his cock so shamelessly?

Steve tries to remember if there was a moment in their brief interaction that could have been mistaken for a come-on. Anything that was a signal, or even fucking permission, and he's coming up blank.

It doesn't matter now. Peter is licking lightly up and down the length of Steve's cock, and dammit he's getting hard. The attention makes him squirm in place, caught in-between wanting to shake the boy off and wanting to give him more room to get comfortable.

No. Steve, no. There's something seriously wrong here, and you can't be— ohhh geez.

He moans out-loud as Peter swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, letting the whole length sink into the wet, velvet heat of his mouth. He bobs his head slowly, matching the unsteady rhythm of Steve's playing.

His fingers keep playing, but Steve is completely consumed by the boy in-between his knees, humming happily at the end of his cock. He curses the bench for restricting his movement. As he sits, the best he can do is wiggle, all of his pleasure directed greedily by his server.

And now... holy shit, and now he's getting close. The song he's playing is coming to an end, building in tandem with his pleasure, swelling into rolling chords and a tight throat, gagging lightly as he thrusts forward, and...

... and the song resolves, resounding through six final chords, and he barely hits them as his pleasure crests, hands trembling, head dipping forward in surrender to his orgasm. He spills into Peter's eager mouth with a groan, drowned out by the polite applause that surrounds them.

It dies down, and Steve needs to catch his breath, needs a drink, and is suddenly aware that Peter is still lightly suckling his cock. In one long pull, he downs the water and pulls back from the table, avoiding looking at Peter as he quickly fastens his pants.

Just as Steve's jumping up to flee, the owner of the restaurant appears, looping an arm over his shoulder, "Where're ya goin'? Need some more water? I can get Peter to—"

"Look," Steve stops him, voice hushed as he points under the piano, "I don't know what just happened, but I'm not—"

"— Nonsense!" He's pushed back towards the bench, "You asked for refreshments, and my best server is happy to provide. Surely you've enjoyed his skills thus far?"

Steve is speechless. This was... planned? He looks down to meet Peter's eyes, and the boy is still licking his lips, clearly cleaning the fresh load of Steve's cum from his face. It's filthy, right in the middle of this restaurant— but Steve's noticing now that most tables have at least one pair of folded legs underneath the cloth, men and women alike receiving refreshments all night.

The owner pushes him down into the seat again, handing Steve a glass of water as Peter starts on his buckle again. "Just enjoy it, Rogers. Peter's the best at what he does— I promise, two hours will fly by."

His cock slips back into Peter's mouth easily and he groans in despair, fingers shaking as they settle back on the keys— both of them preparing to play their instruments.

Before he starts the next piece, he can hear a faint whisper of, “You taste really good, Sir,” from Peter’s sinful lips. He’s gonna die. He won’t make it.

Two hours. He can do this.

(I’ll tag @starkeristheendgame @femmeparker @snowstark @moodystark @peterrparrkerr @lemonpeter @vaguekiwi just because)

#spidershield #not lfl yet #nff #read warnings #steve x peter #steve rogers #peter parker #rairpair #kinktober #i guess?#one shot #my writing

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adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years ago

Text

Title: More than Words

Pairing: Idol! yoongi x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, thigh riding, dirty talk

Rating: 18 and over

Permanent Tag List: @heyimtavia @mochilicious-yoongi

Y/N:

You were hustling to get to his studio before 12pm, knowing damn well once 12pm hit, you wouldn’t be able to grab his attention. You rush up the hall, iced americano in hand, and bang your knuckles onto the door of his studio.

*Silence*

You pace back and forth from one leg to the other waiting for him to answer the door. Impatient, you knock again. The door swings open and before you stands your boyfriend Min Yoongi. “Hi!” You smile excitedly, handing over the coffee you purchased for him. He smiles wide at you, grabbing the coffee with one hand and pulling you towards him with the other hand. He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek and breathing you in. “Thank you so much jagi.” “You’re welcome. I wanted to give you some fuel for your day. I'm excited to spend the evening with you.” You explain stepping back to adjust your purse on your shoulder. “Uh, yeah, about that.” He winces and you feel your heart drops knowing what’s coming next. You swallow back the lump in your throat, clearing it completely. “Jagi, I completely forgot, and I told the members we could record the new track tonight. I’m so sorry, please don’t be upset. I know this is a surprise.” You felt the anger sear up inside you. How could he forget? You knew he was busy, but this was too much. “No, I’m not surprised. This is just how you are Yoongi, my busy bee. Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight. Please, don’t worry about it. We can catch up another night. Have a great recording session.” You give a tight smile, blowing a kiss to him before sauntering off, leaving him standing at the studio door.

Yoongi:

He couldn’t move. He just stood there watching her walk off. His heart thumping in his chest. Her words echoing in his head. ‘Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight.’ He couldn’t lose her, not when she was the best thing to ever happen to him. He was so in love with her, how could he be so stupid and allow his work to come in the way of his relationship. He growled under his breath, pulling out his phone. “Namjoon-ah, I can't record tonight. I have to take care of some other things tonight. Let’s reschedule for next week.” He hangs up and immediately makes another phone call. “Hi yes, It’s Min Yoongi. I need a favor.” Yoongi smiles sneakily, biting his lip.

Y/N:

You stand sulking in front of the microwave, listening to the kernels of your popcorn settle, ready to take it out before it burns. Just as you are about to yank the door open to your microwave, you startle at the sound of your doorbell ringing, huffing at how silly you are for getting such a fright. You walk over to the door, pressing your ear to it. “Who is it?” “Courier, special delivery, signature needed.” “You have the wrong address. I’m not expecting a delivery.” “Is this Miss Y/F/N Y/L/N?” “Yes.” You almost whisper. “Uh, Ma’am, please I have a lot more drop offs tonight, and this requires a signature or else I can't leave.” Your brow furrows at what it could possibly be that’s so urgent. You open the door slightly, eyeing the courier suspiciously. “Sign here please.” He hands you clipboard. You sign it, handing it back, and he then hands you a black gift box tied with silver ribbon. “Who is this from?” “I just deliver the packages ma’am but whoever it's from, they must really like you cause these deliveries are not cheap. Have a great night.”

You make your way back into your apartment and plop down onto your couch. You pull open the ribbon and lift the lid of the box to reveal a small white card atop white tissue paper. You lift the card out of the box and read the small cursive text.

‘Meet me at the Rooftop Del Mar and wear this. A car will be by in one hour. Xo Y.’

You pull the tissue paper from the box to reveal a black drape neck mini dress. Your mouth falls open as you feel the soft material and you run to jump into the shower. You are dressed and done up in under the hour time limit. You head downstairs and are greeted by a driver who is holding a tablet with your name on it. “I’m Y/N.” You say and the driver opens the back passenger door for you. You take a seat and attempt to call Yoongi but it goes straight to voice-mail.

You are at the restaurant in no time and soon the driver is opening the door and helping you to exit. “Welcome,” A male host greets you upon entrance into the restaurant, “Please follow me. You are our guest of honor.” You can’t help but blush, unsure of what’s going on. Your head is hazy and the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your tummy has you a bit queasy. You are escorted up to the rooftop, the elevator opening to an extravagantly set up dining area. There are no tables set up, only what seems like hundreds of bouquets of roses, pillar candles, and a red carpet. Your mouth hangs open and you look around drinking everything in. “Enjoy madam.” The host bows and gets back onto the elevator to leave. “Uh, wait. I don’t know what’s going on.” You stutter, your mouth dry.

You hear a click and suddenly your favorite love song plays on the overhead and you feel your heart thump in your chest. “May I have this dance?” Yoongi appears before you. Your jaw drops at how amazing he looks dressed in a white shimmering suit with pink embroidered top. He smiles at you, taking you in. “You look beautiful, jagi.”

Yoongi:

“How? Why? I thought you had to work?” She questions, picking at her fingers. “Work can wait. You can’t. I’ve been working too much and neglecting you, the most important person to me. I’m sorry for that jagi. I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me, just how much I love you, here, tonight. So, may I have this dance?” He smirks, holding his hand out to her.

She smiles that big beautiful smile and moves towards him, taking his hand. He pulls her towards him, her giggle filling him with joy. They begin to sway side to side, her palm resting on his chest, his hand on the small of her back. “Won’t you get in trouble for not recording the new track?” She inquires. Yoongi shrugs. “The thought of losing you trumps any trouble I could ever get in.” He says, twirling her around. She giggles again, her body pressed against him when she returns to him.

They gaze into each other’s eyes and all Yoongi can think about is how much he loves her, how he’d do anything to see her smile the way she is right now, and how he’d never do anything to jeopardize what they’ve built. “What?” She chuckles, her cheeks reddening. “You’re just so beautiful. I can’t stop looking at you.” He whispers, leaning in to plant a kiss on her soft lips. “Dinner is served outside sir.” The host appears. Yoongi nods, leading Y/N out through the decorated area, and onto the deck where a beautiful candlelit dinner has been setup.

Yoongi pulls out the chair for her to sit and takes a seat across from her on the bench. He looks up at the night sky, thinking how not one star in that sky shines as bright as his gorgeous Y/N. “Yoongi, this is so amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She assures almost nervously. Yoongi reaches his hand across the table to take hers. “Of course, I did. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I haven’t been doing right by you. It’s wrong of me to always put you on the back burner. Yes, work is important but all these accolades and then no one to share them with? If my whole world fell apart, I know I’d be ok, so long as I have you. You deserve someone who cares and I do, so much. I promise to show you that often jagi. More than words, actions. I never want to lose you, us.”

Yoongi sees the tears forming in her eyes and he brings her hand to his lips to comfort her. “Don’t cry my love.” She stands immediately, walking over to sit in Yoongi’s lap, her head in the crook of his neck. He pulls her close, the feel of her warm body against his bringing him such comfort. “I love you so much Yoongi. I was so scared earlier, like you just didn’t care anymore but this is so amazing. You’ve made me so happy. I don’t want to lose us either.” “Never jagi. Never.” He whispers, kissing her shoulder. She shifts in his lap, moving to plant kisses on his lips. He doesn’t fuss, instead letting her dig her hands in his hair to tug at his locks.

He can’t help but moan when she drags her tongue along his bottom lip. He opens his mouth for her and she wastes no time deepening the kiss, swirling her tongue around his. She breaks the kiss, licking her lips seductively as she stands. Yoongi looks past her, smirking when the host steps out to check on them then immediately turns to walk back in when Y/N straddles Yoongi. “Jagi, we’re still in public. Let’s finish dinner and we can head back home.” Yoongi pants, his breath catching in his throat when she thrust her hips forward. She shakes her head in opposition and Yoongi frowns. “I want you now.” She whines. “Not going to happen my love.” Yoongi declares.

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with that dark lustful look Yoongi knows too well. “I’m serious.” He warns. “Me too.” She teases, planting an open mouth kiss on his neck, suckling at his flesh. Her hand dripping down to massage at his manhood. Yoongi sucks in a breath, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet. He walks over to a secluded area, covered by greenery and potted trees. Yoongi takes a good look around, happy to have found a spot out of camera view.

Y/N:

“My poor naughty girl. It’s my fault you can barely control yourself.” Yoongi whispers against your collar bone, planting kisses against it. “It is.” You moan, attempting to reach down to grab his erection until Yoongi grabs both your wrist in one of his large hands. “No, no, no my love. Tonight, is all about you.” He smirks, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. He raises your hands above your head, holding them in place there. He lifts his bent knee up and anchors it into the wall between your legs, planting his flexed thigh into your heat. He grips your hip with his free hand and drags you across his thigh. You gasp out loud and watch the devilish grin spread across Yoongi’s face. “That’s it baby. Use me. I want to make you feel good, watch you cum.” You whimper at his words.

Bending your knees to gain better footing, you soon begin to rock back and forth along his firm thigh, your needy bud throbbing and hardening with each thrust. “My gorgeous girl. So needy, I’ve neglected you for too long, haven’t I? Dying for release?” “Yess. Yoongi. I need you.” “I’m right here baby. Watching you, wanting you so badly. You look so beautiful. So hot against my thigh. Soaking into my pants.” He whispers, licking at the shell of your ear. You moan out, rocking harder against him, bending your knees further to press more of your electrified bean into his tensed muscle. Your panties are completely soaked and the friction against your nerve endings has you coming undone faster than you had anticipated.

“Yoongi, so close. So…. God damn close.” You mewl, throwing your head back. Yoongi releases your hands, taking your hips into his hands now. You grip his shoulders, staring into his eyes as he presses his thigh into you more, aiding you across his thigh at an accelerated rate. Your mouth falls open, and you pant frantically, your throat drying. “That’s it jagi. Let go, soak my thigh, cum for me baby.” “Oh god,” You cry out, the coil deep inside your belly tightening. You clench your cunt suddenly, your coil snapping immediately. “Oh, yes! Yoongi, I’m cumming.” You shout, digging your nails into his shoulders. He pulls you into a kiss, one hand buried in your hair the other on your ass, still dragging you across his thigh. He swallows your sobbed moans with his tongue, slowing the pace as you come back from your high.

You pull away from him, pressing your back against the wall. Yoongi stretches his leg, the very apparent wet spot glistening in the moonlight. “I ruined your suit.” You say breathlessly. He shrugs looking down at it. “I don’t care about the suit. How do feel?” “OK, like I want more.” He smiles his wide gummy smile and moves towards you, pressing his body into yours. He kisses you softly. “Like I said it’s all actions from here forward jagi. Whatever you want. Although, maybe we should eat?” You giggle, kissing him again. “OK, maybe just a quick bite.” “That’s my girl.”

#anon request #bts smut #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

🥺 Writing ask abt eah with apple and darling "You're not a machine or- or some thing, you're a person, and I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise"

Apple was getting ready to go home for a party- a birthday party to be more specific. Her birthday party if you really wanted to go into detail.

It was May, the beginning of summer. Not that summer truly meant much in Ever After High- it was a year-round school after all, but it did mean a little bit of time would be allotted for students to spend some time at home and relax.

However, Apple was not relaxed- not in the slightest. It was only a little while ago Darling had broken her curse and they realized they were each other’s destined true loves. It had only been a few weeks since they started dating officially and now Apple was going to have to go home and see her mother for the first time outside of video calls since the Dragon Games. Not only that- Her mother was planning on hosting a giant birthday gala for her- and she let her invite her entire class as well as half of Ever After just for fun.

Sure, this meant she was able to continue to hang out with her friends and be herself for at least the night, which she’d enjoy, but it also meant things could easily slip- especially if someone thought they could get something out of outing her to her mother. Darling tried to assure her no one would be that cruel, but Apple feared otherwise. Goodness knows Ever After High has no shortage of mischievous students. Kitty, Duchess, and Faybelle to name a few.

And goodness knows her mother wasn’t exactly the understanding type either.

At least her friends would be there... and Darling. Darling usually made everything feel a lot better. Though... perhaps tonight that wouldn’t be best. She had to act like nothing happened- that she wasn’t gay. Oh god... this was going to be a long break.

“Got everything packed?” Raven asked, a trunk of clothes levitating in dark purple magic next to her. Apple sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“Yep,” She faked energy and enthusiasm. “All ready to go to my mom’s.” Raven cringed.

“I know it’s gonna suck, but hey, we’ll at least be here for the night. That’s something, right?” Raven placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It... is,” Apple said. “But you know how it is. She’s all ‘follow your destiny- be popular- be pretty or else’ and blah.”

“I kinda know the feeling, yeah...” Raven sighed. “But hey, technically you do have destiny on your side. True loves kiss and all that.”

“True,” Apple chuckled a little, going to the window and whistling for birds, who quickly went to her trunk of clothes and lifting it for her. “But...”

“I know, not that easy,” Raven admitted. “Not everyone is blessed with parents who were already destined to be evil so they really don’t care if your bi or not.”

Apple snorted. “Yeah.”

“You got this. And remember- if anything should happen, Briar, Darling, and I are totally willing to take you in for a spell,” Raven reassured. This did very little to comfort Apple, though she appreciated the effort.

“Thanks,” She decided to say, though the thought that she could possibly be kicked out of her own home scared her more than when Raven decided not to sign the Storybook of Legends- which was why she was determined to keep her secret, no matter what.

“Well- my dad’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at the party,” Raven said, checking her mirror phone.

“I’ll walk with you,” Apple said. Raven nodded, and together they made their way down the many, many flights of stairs. The girls didn’t say much, as Raven was busy texting, while Apple was doing her best to practice her happy face before they finally reached the bottom, where Darling and Maddie were waiting for them.

“Apple! Raven! There you two are,” Maddie beamed at them, and Raven chuckled.

“Hey Apple,” Darling smiled giving her girlfriend a peck on the cheek. Apple smiled.

“Hey,” She said, before scanning around.

“Relax, the limo is outside, we’ve one last moment to ourselves,” Darling said, holding her hands.

“We’re literally right here,” Raven rolled her eyes playfully.

“Oh hush,” Apple rolled her eyes.

Maddie gasped. “You kiss Darling with that mouth?” she giggled.

“Whatever. I’ll see you two at the party,” Apple snickered, and Raven and Maddie took their cue and headed out.

“You ready?” Darling asked, pulling Apple away from the stairs.

“Not in the slightest,” She admitted with a pathetic laugh.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you the whole night if needed,” Darling said, tucking a loose strand of Apple’s hair behind her ear.

“That’s what I’m afraid of... I want to be with you so bad, but if she were to find out...” Apple didn’t need to finish the thought. She sighed.

“I know,” Darling sighed. “Just- know no matter what I’m on your side, and what we have is very, very real, and she can’t take it away from us, okay?” Darling asked, Apple nodded, leaning and the princesses shared a quick but passionate kiss.

“I know. I’ll see you tonight,” She said, giving her a hug, which Darling quickly returned.

“Should anything happen, just call for me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” She promised.

“My knight in shining armor,” Apple smiled at her.

“You know it,” Darling winked and teased. Apple gave her another quick hug before forcing herself to let go and go to her ride.

Not to Apple’s surprise in the slightest, her mother wasn’t there to pick her up, just the usual dwarf or two. The birds dropped off her luggage in the trunk of the limo and Apple took her seat. Once they started going, she immediately slumped and tried not to think as her mirror phone blew up with texts from Briar and her other friends in support and details about how great this party was going to be.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of being driven, she finally arrived at her castle, and walked right inside, the dwarves taking care of her luggage for her.

Not to her surprise once again, her mother wasn’t there to greet her. Instead, there was a table with some flowers and a single slice of apple pie (long cold by now) waiting for her, with a note that read:

“So happy you’re here my little apple dumpling. So sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you, but I’m very busy planning tonight’s party.

Hugs and Kisses,

-Mummy”

Darling hated when her mother babied her, but she wasn’t ready to face her quite yet, so she took her mother’s absence as a mercy more than the blatant neglect it was. Apple took the pie, tossed it in the nearest garbage, before stopping by the kitchen, grabbing an apple, and heading off to her room to pass the hours away until the party.

No place like home alright.

Her phone was still blowing up from texts from Briar, but Apple figured she’d just wait until Briar passed out to try and answer them all- goodness knows that girl sends 50 texts that could easily have just been four, though she said it “preserved the tone that way”. She loved Briar, but she could be a lot at times.

Apple sighed as she entered her room and flopped onto her overly fluffy bed and pondered if her mom kept any poisoned apples around so she could just skip this whole mess and wake up whenever Darling would be able to get past her mother’s guards and they could just run away into the sunset. Or if she could jump out her window and Darling could be there to catch her...

A girl could dream.

Eventually, she just decided to scroll social media to pass the time, making sure to like any and posts wishing her a happy birthday, though deciding not to comment. Sure it was highly unusual, but she simply did not have the energy today.

She was probably on her mirror phone for hours, when there was a knock at her door. Apple took in a deep breath, putting on her happy face, before opening and finding out her mother was on the other side.

“Apple darling, how was the ride home?” She asked, not waiting for Apple to invite her in.

“It was great mom,” She said, closing the door behind her.

“Good, good,” Her mother nodded to herself, before turning and looking her up and down. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

“No, Lizzie Hearts actually designed me this dress I’ve been dying to wear-”

“Oh, that’s good. Can’t have you turning another year older in that old thing,” She said, gesturing to her dress. Apple only nodded.

“You excited for tonight? I’ve spent all week planning for you,” Snow grinned, going to her tablet and tapping a few things.

“Yep! Totally hexcited,” Apple gave a thumbs up.

“You going to start on your hair soon?” Snow asked, not looking up.

“Yep yep,” It was getting harder for her to be enthusiastic.

“Good,” Snow nodded, turning off the device and looking back to Apple, thinking a moment before smiling.

“You’re growing up so fast my little apple, darling,” She said. “Time really flies when you’re away at that school.”

“I guess, yeah. Though- it’s almost hard to tell with all those tests,” Apple joked. Snow laughed.

“Professor Rumplestilskin keeps you busy?” The queen said.

“He’s just like you described,” Apple confirmed. Snow chuckled.

“Older I bet, though. Goodness knows that old miser has probably only gotten worse with age, unlike some people,” She grinned. Apple nodded once more, not really knowing how to respond.

Snow White paused. “Something on your mind, my little dumpling?”

“Nope! I’m absolutely perfect,” Apple internally panicked, quickly putting on a cheesy smile.

“Good, but do know if anything’s wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me, alright? One of the dwarves can handle it,” Snow patted her head.

“I know, mom,” Apple really hated it when she babied her.

“Right,” The queen nodded to herself. “Well then- I’ll let you get ready now. I really do hope you’ll like this party- All of Ever After is coming in your honor,” She said, beginning to exit.

“Yipee,” Apple said halfheartedly.

“Hate to go, but a few things need to be finalized. Hugs and kisses darling, see you later” Her mother blew a kiss as she headed out.

Once her mother was out of earshot, Apple flopped onto her bed, grabbed a pillow, smushed it against her face, and groaned.

This was going to be a long, long night.

.o0o.

Despite everything, Darling was glad to be home. Sure, her parents didn’t exactly know about the fact she was the white knight and she had to constantly make sure Daring didn’t accidentally spill the beans, but other than that her family was fun to be around- which was more than she could say for other families in Ever After. After all, her parents knew she was gay practically from the moment she was born- as a girl “prince charming” practically set it up from the beginning.

What they didn’t know was that she was dating Apple, meaning that Daring had failed and wasn’t Apple’s destined Prince Charming, but that she was instead. That was a secret she didn’t have to worry about Daring sharing because despite him realizing his destiny was likely with Rosabella, he was still deeply embarrassed by the whole thing.

Still, it was an unspoken agreement between the Charming siblings not to speak a word of what happened at the dragon games- not until Apple was ready to tell her mother anyway.

But despite all this, she was still happy to be home, as it meant she could return to her familiar backyard and practice sword fighting with her brothers in their favorite hang-out spot, where their father used to make them practice “saving damsels in distress”. It was a nice little spot that the siblings spent years building and crafting to perfection, with chairs, hammocks, some of Dexter’s favorite books, swords and dummies for practice, and a few mirrors to suit Daring’s vanity, as well as an elaborate bell system that reached back to the castle in case their parents needed them but didn’t want to go searching.

However, the one downside of the nook was that there was terrible cell reception.

“Darling, you have got to relax and stop stressing about Apple, the party isn’t for several hours, take a mirror and nap on the hammock. I know it works like a charm for me,” said Daring, admiring himself as he advised his baby sister. Darling rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t panicking as much as I am. I swear you and Rosabella have been texting constantly ever since the whole ‘winter in summer’ fiasco,” Darling pointed out, deciding to somewhat take his advice and sit in the hammock.

“I took his phone while we were in the car, it was driving me insane,” Dexter patted his pocket. Darling snorted.

“Don’t encourage him, it was rude,” Daring shot his brother a glare.

“Alright, calm down you two,” Darling rolled her eyes. “though- if you want we can settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“Uh-uh. No sword fighting- not today anyway. Mom said we have to stay ‘clean and pristine’ for the party tonight,” Dexter said.

“Lame,” Darling groaned, refreshing her mirror phone once more, but not getting any better results than the fifty times she tried before.

“Darling, you seriously need to relax. Apple’s dealt with her mother her whole life, she’ll be okay for a few days,” Dexter said.

“Easy for you to say,” Darling rolled her eyes, trying again but still getting nothing.

“Yeah bro, don’t underestimate this whole thing. You know how the Queen can be,” Daring pointed out.

“Okay, you got me,” Dexter huffed, putting a bookmark in and closing his book. “I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“You know what’d relax me? A good sword fight,” Darling’s eyes shone mischievously.

“I’m not gonna fight you- I always lose and always end up bleeding somehow,” Dexter shook his head. “Plus- mom said no fighting.”

“Daring?” She turned to her eldest brother.

“No can do Darling. Gotta stay handsome for the party, keeps away the suspicion,” He pulled out his mirror once more, checking out his own reflection again.

“You guys are so lame,” Darling groaned.

“What time even is the party, anyway?” Dexter asked.

“I think the palace doors open at 5, but that’s if you’re insanely early and-”

“-And everyone knows it’s best to be fashionably late as opposed to early,” Daring interrupted her.

“I’m gonna go get ready,” Darling decided, swiftly getting off the hammock.

“Isn’t it a little early to be getting ready? It’s only 3,” Dexter pointed out.

“Mom’s probably going to make me scrub the dirt from my nails like- 50 times before the party so we’ll see how long this takes,” She sighed. “The plights of being a girl.”

“You say that like Daring isn’t right there,” Dexter snarked.

“He makes a good point, Darling. I should be getting ready too,” He said, putting away his mirror.

“Dex, you coming then?” Darling asked. Dexter sighed, putting his book away.

“I guess so,” He said, and the Charming Siblings left their nook to head back into the castle.

After that it was hours of priming and preening, Darling barely had the time to check her phone as the handmaids chatted her ears off about gossip she couldn’t have cared less about, which was made worse when her mother came in and started talking about gossip amongst the royals about who was dating who and fashion trends or whatever. Darling was hardly paying attention, having never cared about these types of things.

It wasn’t like she disliked getting dressed up and doing her hair and painting her nails and such, it was just- when the maids and her mother did it, they hardly ever asked her what she wanted and Darling could never really get a word in on such matters. Hell- the most her mother had probably ever listened to her was when she came out, and when she begged her to let her go to Ever After High and stop being homeschooled. Other than that, she was pretty sure nothing got through, as her mom had a clear preference for Dex, and her dad had a preference for Daring.

Whatever, she had her own way to cope. If she could just get her phone...

“Aaaand, done. Oh now don’t you just look gorgeous,” One of the maids said, placing the final touch on her dress. Darling snapped back in the moment, taking a second to admire the dress they put her in, nodding briefly in approval, quickly walking over to check her phone.

No texts from Apple.

She was probably just getting ready too, Darling had nothing to worry about.

“So...? What do you think?” Her mother asked.

“It’s a lovely dress, thanks mom,” Darling said, not really looking at her, sending Apple a quick text.

“You teens and your mirror phones,” Mrs. Charming rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go looking for your brothers. Don’t mess up that hair.”

“Got it,” Darling still didn’t look up. Her mother sighed before leaving. Darling then thanked the handmaids for their service, then went down to the foyer to wait for everyone.

Apple still hadn’t replied to any of her messages. Darling shouldn’t have been surprised- it was her party and knowing the queen, she was probably keeping her busy or having her change a million times. She should just... attempt to relax. They’d be at the party soon enough, and Darling could give Apple her gift and keep her safe and happy and loved.

The gift Darling had gotten her was separate from the “family present” her parents had made for Apple. It was a necklace and a pretty simple one at that. It was gold, and had the engraving of an apple on the front, but on the back, there was a little rainbow. Darling hoped it was subtle enough and that no one would ask any questions, but she really wanted it to be special to her.

Darling had fallen for many girls throughout the years, but it was easy to say she cared about Apple the most.

Eventually, the rest of her family came down the stairs and it was time to go.

“You ready?” Dexter asked. Darling shook her head.

“I’m a Charming, I shouldn’t be this nervous,” She hugged her arms.

“It’ll be okay. You’re a lot tougher than you think- Apple too,” Dexter reassured. That did help a little.

“Thanks, Dex,” She said.

“No problem. Let’s just go and try to have a good time,” Dexter said, clearly trying to hype himself up too.

“That can’t be too hard, right?” Darling joked a little, stepping into the carriage.

“I hope not,” Dexter said, following suit, and the Charming Family was off.

.o0o.

Apparently, it could be that hard.

Once they arrived, Darling was greeted at the door by some gruff-looking dwarves who grabbed the family’s present out of Dexter’s hands (Darling kept her gift in her purse) and they were formally announced to the party room before being asked to quickly move aside for other guests. Say what you would about Snow White, but she sure knew how to get things done quickly and efficiently. Darling then went to go and try and greet Apple, but more dwarves said she couldn’t greet the princess until later. She briefly made eye contact with her girlfriend, who sent her a silent distress call she wished she could answer, but alas, she had to wait and try to party with everyone else.

Of course, it was nice to mingle with her fellow classmates, but they literally just got off of campus just a few hours ago, so outside of complementing everyone’s outfits, dancing a bit, and taking a few photos, there wasn’t much they could do. Piper and Briar did their best to keep things lively, but something about Apple being forced to sit on a throne the whole time away from everyone else really sucked the energy out of the kids, who wanted nothing more than to mingle with her.

However, after an hour or so, Snow White allowed for the festivities to “officially begin” and Apple was allowed down, though she was quickly overwhelmed by hugs from her friends, which made Darling chuckle as she waited patiently for her turn.

“You looked like you were going to die of misery if you had to sit there a moment longer,” Darling said as she hugged her.

“You have no idea. My mother says adding cushions to a throne looks unprofessional so that’s just solid metal baby,” Apple joked tiredly.

“You’re doing great, Apple. You got this,” Darling whispered. Apple hugged her tighter.

“I know she means well, but sometimes I seriously want to strangle her,” Apple joked.

“I know the feeling,” Darling sympathized as she let go so no one would be suspicious. Apple then continued hugging and catching up with other guests, while Darling waited steadily for her to finish. Apple finished, and swiftly- though subtly- returned to her girlfriend’s side.

“So... wanna dance?” Apple offered.

“Oh you know I’m a dreadful dancer, that’s not fair,” Darling shook her head as Apple grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor.

“The way I remember you totally beat Chase in that dance-off,” Apple pointed out.

“Everyone knows Chase is just about the worst dancer ever after, and we won only because he slipped and fell off the board,” Darling rolled her eyes, but it was too late, as Apple had already gotten her near the center and began to dance.

“C’mon, it’s fun,” Apple said, her eyes shining under the party lights. Darling sighed in defeat and awkwardly began to dance with her. Apple chuckled a little bit, but reassured her that she was doing great, and soon enough, she loosened up enough to the point that she was actually having a good time. Though of course, this became easier when she saw Apple was having a good time. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing. Perhaps everything was going to be alright- they’d find ways to reach each other and take care and know they were loved and everything was okay and was going to be okay.

After an hour or so, once again, the dancing was called to a brief pause, as Apple was dragged off to open her presents while the rest of the party continued, though Snow White did allow Briar, Raven, and Darling to join her. She went to her seat and began unwrapping box after box of presents, each more elaborate and fancy than the last, and Snow White hovered nearby making comments about them, thanking the families who gave them. Books, jewelry, dresses, tea sets, and all sorts of things were unwrapped one by one, only to be quickly taken away by dwarves, and Darling felt a twinge of guilt for getting her something so minimalistic and small.

However, after the last one was taken away, Darling took the small box out of her purse and handed it to Apple.

“A... personal gift? That’s highly unusual,” Snow White commented, and Darling internally panicked.

“I think it’s a sweet signifier of a good friendship,” Briar commented nonchalantly, though a bit on the nose. Apple smiled at Darling sweetly before opening it and gasping.

“Darling, it’s beautiful,” She said, admiring the engraving.

“Rather small isn’t it?” Snow raised an eyebrow.

“I paid for it myself,” Darling said, trying her best not to give the queen a dirty look. Apple then flipping it over and touched the engraving of the rainbow with her fingers slowly.

“Oh Darling, it’s absolutely beautiful,” She said softly.

“A... rainbow?” Snow raised an eyebrow, and Apple quickly turned it over.

“What’s suspicious about a rainbow? Rainbows are pretty,” Raven tried to defend it, and Darling realized she probably just made the biggest mistake of her life.

“Rainbows can mean a great number of things,” The queen said, looking at Darling.

“Rainbows are also just... pretty,” Raven continued to try, but she wasn’t as good as Briar.

Snow White thought to herself a moment, before ordering for the festivities to continue and for the cakes to be brought out and to begin serving it to the guests. However, after saying that, she turned back to Apple.

“Apple, darling? A word,” She ordered, walking out of the ballroom.

“Oh god- Apple, I’m so, so, so sorry-”

“No, Darling. Don’t be,” Apple stood. “I... I think I can handle this.”

Raven and Briar exchanged a look.

“Are you sure, Apple?” Raven asked.

“I... I think so. Briar, keep the guests entertained. I don’t want anyone to stop partying for my sake, okay?” She asked.

“If that’s what you want,” She nodded, before hugging her. “Just be safe.”

“I will,” Apple hugged her quickly.

“What about us?” Raven asked.

“If your mother so much as raises a finger-” Darling started, but Apple stopped her.

“I... I think I can handle this. She’s my mother, right? I’ve dealt with her before. I-i have facts and destiny on my side,” Apple said, trying to hide her nervousness.

“Okay... if you want to handle this alone, we’ll let you. But- if you need help, but say the word, alright? Raven and I can be there in a flash,” Darling said. Apple smiled a little, before frowning.

“I have to go... I’m sorry- she’ll get mad,” Apple turned away.

“Good luck,” Raven said.

Good luck. Right.

Apple took a deep breath before exiting out into the hallway.

.o0o.

She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart was pounding in her chest. She was terrified to confront her mother, but she had years of pretending everything was fine under her belt in preparation for this very moment. She entered the hallway to find her mother pacing ever so anxiously in her long and elegant white dress with her usual red cape. However, once Apple entered the scene, her mother’s pacing stopped.

“Why did that girl give you a present?” Her mother asked.

“Because I’m important to her and she wanted a way to show that to me,” Apple replied matter-of-factly.

“Important to her how?” Snow raised an eyebrow. Apple got a bad feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to say- she didn’t have to-

But well...

“Important to her how, Apple?” The queen demanded.

“W-well... you know how I got poisoned at the Dragon Games?” Apple said.

“By the Raven girl, I presume?” Snow raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly her mom, but kinda- that’s not important. What’s important is that it was the apple- like from our story,” She explained. “You know- the ‘true love’s kiss will break the spell’ apple?”

“Apple, I know my own story,” She gave her a look. Apple tried her best not to crack under it.

“Well, I was poisoned and in a coma, and Daring tried to kiss me and- well... it didn’t... work,” Apple said.

“What? What do you mean Daring didn’t work? He’s supposed to be your destined prince, how can this be?” Snow demanded.

“I-i don’t know- well... I do kinda know...” Apple whispered.

“I demand an explanation,” Snow ordered.

“Well- after Daring’s kiss failed everyone was kinda just gonna give up, but Darling was there, and she had this crazy idea, a-and... wellllll...” Apple didn’t finish.

Snow White paused.

“You mean to tell me that... princess broke your little curse?” She asked, seething with hatred.

“Y-yes,” Apple nodded.

The queen paused again.

“And what happened after?” She said coldly.

“W-well for awhile nobody would tell me what happened out of fear of how I’d react, until Darling eventually told be during the whole ‘snow in summer’ fiasco and well- then we... started... dating..?” Apple said that last part quieter than the rest.

“This is absolutely ridiculous- do you seriously expect me to believe all this?” Snow crossed her arms. Apple blinked.

“Mom- it’s the truth,” She stated. Her mother laughed.

“That’s impossible. The Storybook of Legends would never say such a thing,” She said. “The girl must’ve simply done CPR, gotten the piece dislodged from your throat or something.”

“Mom, that’s not what happened- you know how the curse works, ‘true loves kiss’. Darling Charming is my true love,” Apple argued, getting angry now.

“Don’t you dare address your queen with that tone,” Snow snapped. “The amount of disrespect you’ve had today is outrageous. First the complaining, then the lack of focus, then the lies? I am your mother, but I am also your queen, and I expect the utmost respect, is that understood?”

“Mom, for the last time, I’m not lying! I’m in love and am dating Darling Charming. She broke the curse and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Apple asserted, tears now threatening to spill.

“What absolute ludicrous. I will not take such blasphemy. Such a relationship is impossible. Go to your room until you’re ready to tell me the truth,” She commanded.

“N-... No.” Apple put her foot down.

The queen paused.

“No...?” She asked, her eye twitching.

“No. I’ve already told you the truth, so I’m not going anywhere,” Apple glared at her.

“No daughter of mine would speak to me with such blatant disrespect,” Snow White was aghast.

“Mom, whether or not you like it, me and Darling are destined for each other, and there is nothing you can do to change that. Even Principal Grimm agrees with me- Principal Grimm!” Apple exclaimed.

“Do not raise your voice at me, young lady.” The queen threatened.

“Then listen, for goodness sake,” Apple threw her hands in the air. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth, and you refuse to believe me! Why? For some- stupid outdated idea?”

“I’ve had enough of this attitude- go to your room. Now.” Snow ordered again.

Apple didn’t move.

“I won’t ask again, Apple. Go. To. Your. Room,” She stepped forward, causing Apple to take a step back.

“G-go ask Principal Grimm if you don’t believe me,” Apple said, trying her best not to crack. Snow slowly walked towards her daughter, until Apple was backed against a wall. The queen grabbed her face.

“There are hundreds of street orphans far more worthy of your destiny than you are. Do not forget this.” She quickly let go, before walking away, while Apple stood there, dumbstruck.

Eventually, her knees gave in, and she collapsed into sobs, and Darling burst through the door, and Darling immediately wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Apple, it’s alright, I’m right here,” Darling did her best to soothe.

“She doesn’t believe me- sh-she said- sh-she s-sa-said-”

“It’s okay, Apple. I know... she’s wrong. She doesn’t believe you,” Darling tried with all of her might to squeeze the sadness out of her, but nothing was working.

“Sh-she said hundreds of o-orphans are f-far more worthy,” Apple hiccupped, and Darling’s heart broke.

“Apple, she had no right to say that. You aren’t some... machine, you’re a human person. She had no right to ever treat you or make you feel that way,” Darling soothed, but Apple continued to cry, which she couldn’t blame her for.

This sucked.

“I love you Apple, you know that, right?” She asked. Apple nodded her head.

Good. At least she knew that...

“If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure my parents or Briar’s or even Raven’s wouldn’t mind, okay?” Darling said. Apple nodded again. Darling kissed the top of her head.

This really, really sucked.

“It’s gonna be okay, Apple...” She practically whispered.

“Y-you promise?” Apple looked up at her weakly. Darling wiped some of the tears from her eyes.

“I promise... maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but I promise, someday it’s gonna be okay, alright?” She asked softly. Apple nodded slowly.

“Okay...” Apple rested her head on Darling’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” Darling asked. Apple shook her head.

“I wanna stay here... with you,” She said hoarsely. Darling nodded her head.

“I can do that,” She said, stroking her face softly, wiping more tears away.

And she meant it. She’d stay right there until Apple felt better, no matter how long it took. Apple knew it, Darling knew it. And despite everything, that did make Apple feel a little bit better.

She was loved. Perhaps not by her mother, but if she didn’t love her, that was her mistake.

Her mother was wrong.

What she and Darling had was love, and nothing could change that.

#my fics #ever after high #dappling #darling charming #apple white #eah #snow white #snow white eah #long post #tw homophobia #tw abuse #the charming siblings #dexter charming #daring charming #tw abusive parents #homophobia

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comelylust · 4 years ago

Text

Workmates

That's right I deliver what I promise, Request through my discord, Anon asked for some Miguel with plot so I made a plot attempt haha. if you find spelling or grammatical errors sorry I do this from a tablet 👀read the warnings 👀.

Warnings: Smut content, +18, street fights, mentions of alcoholic beverages.

"Ugh I really can't stand it" You mention this to your boss with an irritation in your voice, pacing back and forth with both hands on your head "how the hell are you two friends?! it's so... agh"

Seeing how frustrated you were all your boss did was scoff at it, he continues to clean the glasses and arrange them on the shelves in the back, he looked like he really didn't care that two of his workers don't get along as well as he would like.

"You're just stressed, go take a break" Your boss laughed, gesturing towards the employee door where you already knew who was there, Miguel, chances are he was listening to everything, instead instead of embarrassing you your anger continued to rise.

"He's a nice guy, you're just not used to his temperament."

He's right, you still don't know him well enough just a couple of months ago you moved to Spain for personal reasons, but let's say things were getting difficult and you decided to venture to a new destination in search of opportunities, at first you didn't know where you were going, you were coming and going without a previously planned route, this didn't bother you at all you felt better about yourself above all you felt free for the first time in your life.

On one of your countless trips you heard a group of strangers talking about a certain wrestling tournament which caught your interest. You decided to join that event after they finished their talk, grabbed your stuff and headed to a new country.

When you finally arrived in Spain the first thing you did was to look for a temporary job, difficult at first you didn't have the necessary documentation to back up your identity, yeah shit, it wasn't the best idea to leave with nothing but your passport.

You continued your search now in the slums of that country, hoping that someone would offer you help, instead the only thing they offered you was endless fights showing the wimps not to mess with you, earning you a little respect from the locals.

"Strange" You thought "People usually loathe people like me".

It didn't take you long to figure out the reason why the inhabitants were so used to subjects of your ilk. Miguel Caballero Rojo, a subject without a shred of compassion when it came to street fights, was brutal and violent making his opponents regret it on the spot.

Going to where he always made his appearances you found on the way an old cantina: on the outside it was crumbling, but the old letters of the place were still visible. Entering with your best hard face you asked about that mysterious man, without receiving a clear answer, again you let out a disappointed sigh and a pout formed on your lips.

"Hey, don't be so sad" A middle aged man catches your attention offering you a drink which you cheerfully accept "You're not from here are you, cutie?" Your eyes widen like saucers when he found out you're just an outsider, without taking the drink away from your lips you nodded.

"Well, I need a bartender so why don't you stay for a while while you wait for him" He offers the old rag along with the apron, you were in doubt, but you really needed this job, the opportunity to work and hit on a guy sounded exquisite without hesitating a second longer you made your decision.

"Okay I accept, just for a while".

"I'm Daniel by the way" The old man who is now your boss mentions it.

You worked in that bar for the next few weeks, you didn't do much, just make drinks and take out old creeps trying to be smart. Now the main issue, if you met Miguel, yes, he really looked violent, and yes he had hated you.

When he first walked into the bar he was fuming, his nostrils flared, his muscles tensed and the fingers on his hands were crusted with dried blood, in short he's pissed, to add more to the mix you lunged at him with incredible speed that even Miguel himself was taken by surprise.

"What the fuck" He exclaims as his head face down is resting on the dirty floor, you crossed his wrists and paralyzed him with a knee on his back "Get the fuck down, what's wrong with you".

"It's nothing personal just that I liked the idea of defeating the best fighter in this neighborhood" You licked your lips forming a fuzzy smile of joy. Miguel tries to move, but you strengthen your grip, raising your hand now in the shape of a fist ready to punch him in the Spaniard's face, until someone interrupts you.

🌒🌕🌘

"Sorry Daniel" You fiddle with your fingers as the pout returns to your face along with a blush forming on your cheeks. "B-but you already knew what my plan was!"

"Plan?! What's going on Daniel, are you conspiring with this Chiquilla?" Miguel points at both of you accusingly, scratching the back of his neck furiously.

"Eeh, who are you calling a chiquilla, brat?"

"The only person who is behaving like a brat is you" The two begin a verbal sparring match with overly childish insults. Daniel for his part lets out a loud sigh catching both of their attention.

"You both are behaving like brats, Now Miguel she is the new Bartender she will work here for a while be nice" The last sentence was thrown remarking that she will behave "Same goes for you, Be nice he is your co-worker"

"Coworkers!? That if ever!" Both mention at the same time throwing each other murderous looks.

And here we are back where we left off at the beginning. Working with Miguel was annoying, he is always drunk, when he is lucid he gets in a bad mood and even starts fights for stupid reasons, the problem is when you have to interfere when things get too intense, this didn't bother you, you were annoyed by the idea of saving his ass.

Instead of thanking you he starts a useless fight questioning why you helped him and all the crap you decided for your and Daniel's mental health more than anything else for your boss it's better to ignore him.

But what happened?

You were not a sports fan, much less a soccer fan, however since you arrived to this place the only thing that the bar TV broadcasts was soccer, getting used to it, you noticed that Miguel on special occasions wears a jersey of his favorite team, your lips curved into a cheshire smile at the prank you were going to do, your plan is only to support the opposing team for no apparent reason, this would annoy Miguel as a "revenge" for what he had put you through.

Tonight you put your new plan into practice, you borrowed a t-shirt from the opposing team that is playing tonight, you put it on by buttoning every button, oddly enough this shirt highlights your beautiful figure, accentuating your breasts and molding to your abdomen/torso, you hope no one notices this, but who the fuck cares, you look great.

The bar is more crowded than it normally is, you complained about the smell it smelled too much like Cologne, alcohol and sweat hopefully your brain will adapt to it. You headed to your work station serving the drinks to their respective buyers. Until you saw him come in of course with his charming outfit, fuck, you have to admit the man is hot, his manly appearance and his well toned and thick muscles soaked with a light layer of sweat would make anyone drool, unfortunately this was his only virtue.

He gave you a small smile and of course foolishly you returned it, you shook your head forcibly bringing yourself back to reality and remembering the reason why you had decided to do this in the first place.

"Are you kidding me?" he approaches you intimidating as always, the difference is this time his voice framed mockery as if he knew what you were trying to do.

"What are you talking about, I'm just working" you bite your inner cheek avoiding emitting a laugh, You poured him a pitcher of beer waiting for him to forget the topic of conversation.

"Yeah right, I know what you're planning, cutie" He takes a long swig of the drink wiping the rest of it off with his arm "And it's not going to work" He winks at you you roll your eyes so much you're able to see your brain, it really is unbearable.

As the night continues, Miguel continues to make fun of you and how your "shitty" team is losing, the strange thing is that you ended up joining him, drinking the whole keg of beer answering his comments with sarcastic remarks.

You were wrong to think that his only quality is being a handsome man when you noticed that his resistance to alcohol is quite high happened exactly with you, your resistance to alcohol was the best, however, the drinks were doing in you a kind of aphrodisiac turning you hotter as you kept talking to Miguel.

"How about...if we go to the back" your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked you play again with your fingers waiting for an answer, instead he didn't give you one he just grabbed your bicep with his hand and dragged you to the employee only room.

Before partially closing the door, his free hand wrapped around your jaw pulling you closer to him in a hot kiss, intertwining their tongues licking every part he could, he pushed you into the room closing the door behind you. He connected his lips this time on your neck leaving you with purple and bite marks.

He held your wrists guiding you to the lounge chair obediently sitting there, still kissing you enjoying your taste despite the bad beer you had chosen.

"Apparently you're not a rough girl anymore" Separating slightly so he could speak.

"H-hush don't ruin the moment" You turned into a red, stuttering mess, all Miguel did is smile at you and get up from the seat, your mind raced hoping he wouldn't leave.

"On your knees" His hoarser than normal voice made you shudder and let out a low moan, he had never been so dominant and you would be lying if you didn't say you didn't like it. You quickly went down on your knees looking up at him with eyes clouded in lust.

"Fuck" Solo said unbuttoning his pants, you helped by pulling them down along with his boxers "I'm going to punish you for being a spoiled brat."

You finally released his cock from its confines, you gasped at the sight previously you could picture it, but your mind didn't do it justice, it's big with veins that framed its outline the red tip was already dripping pre-semen, you licked your lips and included its head between your lips, giving kitten licks.

"Stop teasing" He growled, you opened your mouth wider with your tongue hanging out, shoving his cock in your mouth touching your throat, you looked up as you gagged which made him let out a guttural gasp.

You pulled back pulling his cock partially out before thrusting harder into your throat, you moan and the vibrations you throw are so delicious he can't take it. Getting rid of his remaining clothes he continued to pound your throat rapidly as he watched your face fill with tears and you try to breathe through your nose so you don't choke.

"Will you stop teasing?" your eyebrows flex in anger, but this action doesn't last that long, still gagging on his cock you nod energetically. "Good girl."

Thick, hot ropes sprouted from his cock covering your mouth, trying to swallow as much as possible. Inhaling and exhaling heavily catching your breath, you struggled to stand up before Miguel lifted you up placing you face down on the couch climbing behind you, your instinct was to raise your ass and spreading your legs apart, giving him a perfect view of your already slippery pussy.

Miguel looked at you with carnal hunger re licking his lips as he looked at your innocent form, his palm slapping against your ass in a thud, you squealed as you felt another series of spanks follow leaving your buttocks red.

"Remember it's your punishment pretty girl."

He rubs his fingers over your wet folds and plunges a finger inside you, you yelp at the sudden action pulling away, Miguel firmly holds your hips so as not to go any further and continues to plunge his fingers stretching your tight walls.

"Easy I'm getting you ready" Miguel works on your sex pulling his fingers in and out "She's too tight".

Your legs trembled with excitement and your moans echoed in the room loudly, before you could come he pulled away from you collecting your essence smearing it on his long shaft lubricating it.

The tip of his cock rubbed between your folds teasing your entrance, you moaned needy moving close to him.

"Don't tease" you pout and he teases you, he pushes his member slowly into your pussy. The sensation of your walls squeezing his cock made him throw his head back as you rolled your eyes at the bliss of being filled.

Miguel pulled your hair back into a ponytail using it as leverage to go faster and deeper, the lewd noises you make are music to his ears instigating him to move.

You could feel every part of his thick cock and how it exquisitely hits that rubbery spot inside you, through your mouth overflowing saliva and your eyes still rolling back. Your walls tremble giving hints of your come.

"Cum on my cock pretty girl" his voice a few octaves lower brings you to the edge, a lewd moan escapes your sweet lips and he quickens his pace chanting your name between curses, his load shoots inside your sex painting them white.

He pulls out of you and you both catch your breath. When you realize what has just happened your face turns red and you try to hide it between the cushions of the couch. Miguel notices this and pats your head.

"So..." You say shyly.

"Then I'll ask you out, mi amor."

"W-what?!"

"Ha, I really love your temper."

"Idiota" this wasn't the plan nor much less the expected result but you're happy.

I must improve on the fast way it ended haha I hope you liked it.

#Tw: smut #tw: alcohol #miguel caballero rojo x reader #tekken miguel x reader #tekken #tekken miguel #miguel caballero rojo

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love-fireflysong · 3 years ago

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years ago

Text

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 5

Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2.339

Back in the office, yn headed for the locker room to change some of her clothes and to get rid of the makeup. As she walked over to her desk, a cup of hot coffee and Gavin were already waiting. He handed her the liquid. She was freezing to death but it was worth it. She was able to place the bug as planned. Yn took the cup with a soft smile, “Thanks. That’s what I need right now.”

“You got rid of the makeup already? Too bad...”, Gavin said grinning.

Over the rim of the cup, she looked challenging at him, “Yeah, otherwise, I have to fear you will arrest me for prostitution. And I’m not sure if you really want to see me in handcuffs.”, she whispered with a grin and winked.

Gavin’s heart skipped a beat and he coughed slightly by the picture he got in his mind because of her comment. Yn noticed what kind of reaction her joke had on him but before she could ask, Hank and Connor joined them with a tablet. It was the device for the bug. Gavin stepped back and breathed several times to calm himself while the others sat around the desk.

“Turn it on. Maybe we will already hear something. I hope this thing works as well as the heavy's promised.”, yn said and laid her feet on top of her desk like Gavin used to do all the time.

Connor looked confused, “Heavy's?”

“Our hardware guys.”, Yn explained with a wink. Then JoJo started to talk and all four cops were listening intently.

“Hey Scott.”

“Hey Joker, why are you smiling like an idiot?”, Scott asked. The sound quality was excellent and so, they could differentiate the two men easily.

“Man, I met a girl in the park.”, JoJo said with excitement in his voice.

“Again?”, Scott asked, not impressed at all. It was the fifth time Joker had met a girl … this week.

“This time it's different.”

Yn felt Gavin's sullen expression glued at her. Obviously, she had done her job better than he wanted.

JoJo continued with his infatuation, “She was so incredibly beautiful. You know, like a divine angel with bright eyes and dressed in a blood red tank top. You should have seen her...you know.”, in the way he said it, everyone (except Connor) knew that he was talking about her breasts.

Yn snickered and looked up with a proud grin. She looked at Gavin then down at her top, which was still the blood red tank top, and then back at Gavin. She smirked. Gavin wasn't amused at all. He pressed his jaws together and looked at her with a dark expression. Hank had to bite back a grin as he watched the Detective. Something bothered him and Hank had an idea what it could be.

“And? Will you see her again?”, Scott asked, catching their attention again.

“Of course! She gave me her number.“, JoJo said proudly.

Gavin slammed his hands on his desk and jumped from his seat, “You gave him your number? Are you crazy?”, he called out.

Yn leant back in her chair and grinned. It amused her that he still saw her as a newbie, at least, she thought it was that, “No. Of course not.”, she said calmly.

“Good.”, Gavin said pleased and sat down.

“I gave him the number of your ex. I thought they would be cute together.”, yn said after a moment and smirked devilishly.

Slowly, Gavin looked up, his knuckles turning white again, “You did- what?”

But instead of answering, yn silenced him with her hand. She became serious and looked at the small device, listening to JoJo’s and Scott’s conversation.

“Yeah, yeah...tonight. In the warehouse down at the docks. Like always at eight?”, JoJo asked.

“Eight, right. Be on point this time. You know how much our boss hates to wait.”, Scott admitted.

“Hell yes! We got it!”, Yn called out. She looked at Hank as the oldest in charge, “Observation?”

Hank nodded, “Would be the best idea.”

“I could do that. I won't get tired.”, Connor suggested.

“Perfect! And I accompany you.”, Yn said.

Gavin looked from yn to Connor and back at yn. Everything happened a bit too fast, “What? Why?”

Hank stood up and nudged Connor to follow him, “We go to Fowler and inform him about the newest information.”, he said to yn and Gavin who didn't listen at all. Gavin was just staring at yn.

“What is your problem, Reed?”, she asked, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior all the time.

“You get yourself into danger! That's my problem!”, he argued coldly.

Yn huffed out, looking doubtful with one raised brow, “Danger? An observation? A snail race would be more dangerous than an observation because of all the slime. What shall happen? That I die out of boredom? I also have the handsome Terminator by my side.”, she pointed out, mentioning one of her favorite movie characters.

Gavin gritted his teeth. Looking away because of this comment and the memory of the dream he had of yn and Connor.

Yn saw that Gavin was on the edge… again. Once again, she had the feeling it had something to do with her but Gavin wasn’t much of a talker and liked to keep things for himself no matter how much she would push him, “Gavin, listen. Connor and I are going on this observation. You and Hank get the information in real time and you can plan the operation.”, she said and waited for him to look at her, “The operation I won't attend.”

“What?”

“I will be there to support you. But I will stay away from any line of fire. Therefore, you don't have to worry about me. Okay?”, yn said with a soft smile.

Gavin squinted his eyes and looked suspicious at her. He knew there had to be a twist somewhere. Yn usually never skipped action when it got offered, “What's the catch?”

“Well, I realized if I push you more, this vein on your neck could explode. And I want to prevent that. I still kinda like you, grumpy cat.”, she said with a wink and stood up to get new coffee for herself and Gavin.

Later, Connor picked yn up from her home. She had changed into comfortable clothes. To sit in a car, maybe for several hours, didn't demand fancy clothes. So, dressed in jeans and a big, cozy, black pullover she had snatched from Gavin once and prepared with coffee and a bunch of snacks, she entered the black car Connor had gotten from Hank. It would be less striking because it was an older model and looked more suitable for a drug scene.

They drove through Detroit to reach the docks. Soft rock music was playing on the radio but Connor wanted to level up his smalltalk skills. He knew yn would be the right person to train this so he asked: “You really wanna go on observation? I always thought humans wouldn’t like that?”

Yn chuckled, “Yeah, that’s true. For us cops it feels like doing nothing. Even if we do something but … observations aren’t liked by everyone.”

“Like Reed?”

"Yeah, but also Hank. Oh, speaking of, how's working with him?", yn asked interested. She saw a smile appear on the android's lips which let him look more boyish… even more handsome.

"It's improving. I mean, we had a rough start with the deviant case and the revolution but… we grow as a team.", Connor answered honestly. Through the darkness, he saw her staring at him. It wasn’t unpleasant … quite the opposite.

"I like to hear that. Hank is… well, since Cole died, he was too alone. It's good that you can change that.", the remembrance of Hank’s loss was still hurtful for her. She couldn’t imagine what Hank felt but to have a new partner by his side like Connor would help the old man to get back on track.

"Can I ask you something, yn?", Connor asked softly.

"Shoot it."

"How's working with Detective Reed?"

"With Gavin?", yn asked surprised. She has expected many questions but not this one, "Uhm… good as always. Why do you ask?"

Connor searched for the right words, "He's… We had some troubles as I came to the DPD. But you seem to be able to talk back to him without him getting aggressive and stuff."

Yn chuckled, "Oh, he gets aggressive but he knows I would defend myself no matter what he would try. We had been there at this point once. But...I see what you mean. Gavin can be a… how shall I say it-"

"An asshole?", Connor tried to help her find the right answer.

The android’s directness, caused her to laugh, "Yeah, absolutely. But no, I meant something like 'challenging'. Look, he's not a bad guy-"

"I got a different impression.", Connor said dryly.

"I'm not sure what happened between the two of you but... whatever it was, that you're an android is not helpful."

"Oh trust me, I already learnt that he hates androids."

"Yeah, but there's a reason. I don't want to apologize for his behavior but his mother was one of the people who lost their jobs because of androids a few years ago. He was a teenager as his mother got replaced. He had a rough time and he had to fight for a lot of things. Obviously, you, as an investigator, triggered his aggression once again."

Connor raised his brows as he made a connection between the different information, "You mean he thought I could replace you?"

"Me?", yn asked surprised.

"Hank told me that you got injured in your last case with Reed."

"Oh, yeah…”, yn nodded. Her injuries, that she couldn’t work for some time and the fact that an android investigator had appeared in the DPD at the same time might have had some effect on Gavin. Added to the fact that he still felt guilty and that he seemed to be bothered with something else, could raise his temper immensely, “Maybe that might be a reason...sure. We already have android support. But seeing you could have kindled his fear to get replaced by an android as well."

While Connor processed the latest information, the conversation slowed down. Both were following their own thoughts as Connor searched for a good observation spot near the only warehouse at the docks they could find. Suddenly, some of Gavin’s latest behavior seemed to make sense to yn. It shouldn’t be an excuse but Gavin Reed was a good guy … he just lost his temper too fast.

Connor stopped the engine and he and yn were reaching for the radio to turn it off. In the middle, their hands touched and both looked at each other with a sheepishly expression. Under his soft glance, yn felt her cheeks reddening. Connor noticed the color in her face and because he liked the sight, he wanted to see it again, "You're very nice, yn.", Connor said softly.

Yn blinked and looked at her hands, not knowing where these feelings were coming from … and what feelings it were in general, "Thanks."

Connor turned over and leant forward to her, imitating the movements he had seen on JoJo as he was flirting with her, "I really mean that. Compared to Reed, you're pure joy. I like working with you."

Yn looked up into his soft brown eyes. Was he flirting with her? The glance in his eyes, the smile on his lips, what he said, all of it was evidence of a flirty behavior but was this his intention? And … wanted yn that he did that? She liked Connor but … like this? Unsure about the answer to the last question, she tried to ease the moment, "Compared to Reed, a stone is joyful. But thanks, Connor. I like working with you, too."

Before Connor could say something else, a text message on yn’s phone distracted her and the strange moment was gone. She thanked silently for this kind of distraction while she read the message. She was surprised and thankful for Gavin’s timing, What takes you two so fucking long to get there?

"It's Mr Pure Sunshine. Turn on the radio station. Otherwise, he will crawl through the cord on his own to check on us."

Connor followed her instructions and turned on the radio with a not so amused expression.

"Hank? Gavin? We're here.", yn said as the line was free.

"What took you two so long to get there?", Gavin asked harshly, repeating his message.

"You know, I had nothing to wear and Connor helped me to pick out the right clothes as I just left the shower-"

"Yn!", Gavin grunted.

She could hear how annoyed he was, "Hell, calm down. We needed a bit to find a good place."

The hours were ticking by and the observation had been as boring as it sounded until the bug started to transmit. The information were good. The bug on JoJo was still sending a strong signal and so, Hank and Gavin could still hear what the dealer was talking while Connor and yn could see who entered and left the warehouse. As yn watched how a bunch of dealers AND seemingly the boss himself left the warehouse, yn was surprised that they worked so visible. Maybe the android revolution had made all the other criminals a bit more careless because they thought Detroit would have other problems?

“They’re leaving. The boss, as well. That was faster than expected.”, you said astonished.

“Then, I would say we’re done for today. Obviously, in two days there will be another meeting in this warehouse.”, Hank said.

“Good to know. Tomorrow, we should plan out the operation. Maybe we can get Captain Allen’s support. With his unit, we could arrest all at once.”, yn proposed. All agreed on this idea and the station radio got turned off.

#dbh gavin #gavin reed x reader #gavin x reader #gavin reed #dbh connor #dbh #dbh fic #dbh hank #detroit become human #detroit become human connor #writing #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction

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rpbetter · 4 years ago

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Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

#rp advice #rp problems #rp help #muse loss #dead fandoms #rp better #Anon E. Mous #answered

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kannra21 · 4 years ago

Text

@owishi Asdfghjkhgfds I want to write sum HCs rn! 😆✨✨

~o0o~

After a successful photoshoot the MCPTF duo took for a detective magazine, Haru bashfuly thanked the camera crew for their work and started to gather his belongings. After a couple of seconds he didn't see Daisuke moving much from his spot at the studio backdrop so he decided to check on him.

Daisuke was still standing there, petting a beautiful cat on his shoulders. He was smiling for the first time in a long time and Haru couldn't help himself but to tease him a little.

"You have a soft spot for kittens, huh Kambe?" "Huh?" "You love animals don't you?" "Don't get the wrong idea. Just because I helped that little boy with a dog back the-" "I get it, no need to get so self-defensive." Haru approached the two and pet the cat as well. Daisuke continued "We had a family cat back in the days but she died from a kidney failure." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Pedigree cats are always difficult to maintain."

He then approached the studio producer and asked "What's the name?" while pointing at the purring ball of fluff. "Oh the name's Kumo-" "No, I meant the name of the breed." "It's a Maine Coon my good sir."

Daisuke took his phone, dialed a number and a lovely lady could be heard on the opposite line "Yes, Daisuke-sama?" "Suzue, do we have all the predispositions that satisfy the adoption of a cat?" "I mean yes but we can't charge a butler to take responsibility for everything. Consider chipping, regular visits to the vet, special shampoos, nail clippers, toothbrushes, specialized treats, eye drops, litter box, toys, climbing frames, there are many factors which need to be taken care of Daisuke-sama. Besides, it's been such a long tim-" "Alright"

Daisuke ended the phone call with a dissatisfied sigh before asking quietly "How much?" to which Haru needed to interfere. "Didn't Suzue-san just tell you not to take a cat home?" and Daisuke gave him an annoyed side-glance "I'll figure something out."

When he arrived to the mansion in his Bentley Continental GT, he glanced at the backseat to address the feline comfortably lying in the fancy pet carrier. "You better not make a sound, understood?" to which the cat just purred in satisfaction. Daisuke felt so silly at this moment, like a little boy hiding a broken vase from his mother.

When he was about to enter the mansion, he accidentally walked on Suzue typing something on her tablet. She looked up and was delighted to see Daisuke coming home safe and sound. Daisuke stood at the doors, one side of his body peering from the corner while the other with a cat was hidden behind the wall. "Welcome back Daisuke-sama, the crack-open naengmyeon is already served on the table, you can take your seat." "Actually, I was planning on doing something else beforehand. Would you please excuse me for a moment?" "Of course." Suzue turned around and waited for him in the dining room. And although Daisuke was very good at keeping his serious demeanor, Suzue still noticed that something was off, with the tone of his voice for instance. It was very faint but Suzue was able to recognize things like this since she knew him so well. Still, she decided not to question him about it.

Daisuke entered his room and laid the pet carrier on the floor. Opening the zipper, the cat jumped out and rolled cozily on his bed. Daisuke held his phone and took a picture. He decided that he couldn't leave it by itself so he went downstairs to the storeroom where he took a litter box and filled it with old newspapers just in case.

After that he joined Suzue for lunch, they talked about Daisuke's photoshoot and Suzue's data she collected on certain people regarding a case. Daisuke told her that the magazine will be published in three weeks or so and Suzue was so happy she promised that she'll be the first costumer to buy it. Daisuke smiled more around Suzue after he let go of his past and threw his father into the jail. Now that all the bad things are behind him, he can finally indulge in his life and pay more attention to Suzue to whom he has yet to make up for all she has done for him over the years. He's thinking about marrying her soon.

While they were eating and pleasantly chatting, a high pitched "mrow" could be heard from the upper floor.

"What was that?" Daisuke let out a dry cough and said "My apologies. It seems that I needed to take a thicker coat before leaving for an appointment." "But.. you always pay attention to things like this." "It's true, but today I was a little late, had other things to do." "Don't overwork yourself, you need to think about your health." "Seems like you need to take better care of me.", he said with a smirk plastered on his lips to which Suzue just laughed and replied "You're so spoiled." and he scooted closer to her whispering "But I like it better when you do it.", and almost kissed her before the two heard a soft thud coming from the above.

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to check what's happening up there. Will be right back.", maybe the moment was ruined but he kissed her forehead nonetheless and went upstairs, leaving her full-hearted and all mushy inside. Her mind was so hazed from the thought of Daisuke kissing her forehead and almost kissing her lips that she didn't register the cause of his concern.

When he arrived to his room he had things to behold; scattered papers and documents all over the floor and the ashtray he typically used after his "adventurous nights with Suzue" was lying on the ground right next to the nightstand. The cat was sitting on his working table licking her paw as if nothing of this concerned her in the slightest. Daisuke sighed in disappointment and put her back in her "baby jail". She already gave him such a hard time but he couldn't be angry with her, she was his baby (yes he already considered himself a dad for god's sake).

Since they already finished with their meals, Suzue went back to her tech room to finish her work and Daisuke took the opportunity to place some meat and water on small plates and bring it to his naughty little friend.

The cat calmed down instantly after she ate and went straight to sleep. Daisuke couldn't believe his own eyes, the audacity, the sheer amount of spoilage this creature showed was unreal. It reminded him so much of himself and he smiled a little. He really missed having a cat.

After he cleaned up and finished his other tasks, he laid on the bed next to her and pet her soft white fur, making her purr louder and snuggle up beside him. Daisuke knows that Suzue is not stupid and that she'll eventually catch up on him sneaking behind her back to give Furry Elise treats (yes her name is Furry Elise, "Für Elise" might be one of Beethoven’s best-known piano pieces and Daisuke knows how to play it too).

And it actually happened that same night. Daisuke was about to fill her small plate with more meat when he met Suzue in the kitchen and she asked him what he was doing. He instantly gave up because it would be so blatantly obvious and incredibly stupid of him to say that he was trying out a new weight-losing tip when no one in this god-forsaken world ate raw chicken.

So he took her to his room and showed her Furry Elise. And although the cat purred really loudly upon seeing them, Suzue wasn't happy about it. In fact, she looked really disappointed and Daisuke needed to apologize. He explained her how it happened and how he wished to have a pet after a really long time. He thought she liked cats as well and therefore concluded that it wouldn't be such a big deal to adopt this cute little feline she loved so much, but apparently it was, so he asked her one more time why she was so reluctant to the whole idea of owning a cat again.

Suzue now shredded a couple of tears and Daisuke was seriously alarmed upon seeing her like this so he carefully cupped her with his hand behind her back and hugged her, asking why she was crying all of a sudden.

"It's just.. I don't want to go though this all over again." "What are you talking about?" "You see, my parents died, your parent died, our previous cat died so soon. I'm living in fear every day and asking myself if something's going to happen to you as well, that's why I'm so excessively worrying about you. And everything I need right now is another sweet creature that I love so much leaving us again. I don't think I'd be able to handle it anymore."

"Suzue.. I never thought..", Daisuke kissed her head and felt a big amount of guilt dawning on him. He was so selfish for only thinking about what made him happy without considering Suzue's emotions. But then he reclaimed his mind and tried to concentrate on saying the right thing. Hopefully he can make her feel better again.

"Suzue, my dear, you shouldn't limit yourself to things that make you happy. It's not healthy. You see, none of us is eternal; neither you, nor me, nor this kitten down there looking at you with so much love in her eyes. But for that very reason that none of us is eternal, we should dedicate our time to one another and make most of it. So please don't deny yourself or your feelings. Instead of dwelling on the sad things, we should concentrate more on our time spent together and be happy, okay?"

Even Daisuke didn't know how he managed to word it this nicely but he did and he realized that both of them were crying by now. They shared a passionate kiss but got interrupted by a small furball rubbing on their feet like it wanted to share a hug as well and Suzue smiled through tears.

She squatted and carefully took the cat in her hands. "What's her name?" "Furry Elise." Suzue now needed to laugh so much and she hadn't even recovered from her previous emotional outburst.

"I love it, you're really good at this.. it's.. the song you used to play for me all the time before you went studying overseas."

He looked at her with so much love and adoration at this exact moment.

"Know what? I think I'm falling for you all over again, Mr. Millionaire." Daisuke swore, his heart was full that night and no money could ever compare to this feeling.

@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov

It's daisuzu stuff so I hope you enjoy. If you want me to delete your tag you're free to tell me. 👍

#fugou keiji balance unlimited #the millionaire detective balance unlimited #daisuke kambe #suzue kambe #daisuzu #daisuke x suzue #hc #scenario #fanfics #ideas #thoughs

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