#Quite a change considering he could only eat pinkies when I got him

[oculusxcaro]

Pottering around still! Just been a little proccupied with @teethofthedeeps but I'm getting my spoons back and will start focusing on catching up elsewhere including here. Also a belated munday, not for me but R.orschach! He's growing fast now and I'm getting his tank ordered next week while the family is away... he's just had his enclosure cleaned out, with lots of fresh new bedding plus some treats from today's morning walk with the dog. Fresh bit of wood, some flowers and fallen leaves makes for a happy snake!

[basic-otaku]

My thoughts on Xue Yang's character (based on the drama and novel)

Xue Yang is a character I didn’t fully understand until I finished The Untamed. I looked back on him with a bit of pity but little understanding. It wasn’t until I listened to his character song that I truly began to dissect his character. Reading those lyrics completely flipped my perspective on him, and I went back to watch the Yi City arc again. I was shocked by how much I had missed. Xue Yang has since become one of my favorite characters of the series. I’ve spent so much time thinking about him and his motives that I finally decided to write down my thoughts. This analysis comes mostly from what I perceived, so it may differ from other people’s opinions. You are free to disagree with me.

Let’s start with what we know: Xue Yang was a street kid with a hard childhood. We know he was abandoned at a young age, but we don’t know how young. However, he must have been old enough to survive, so he couldn’t have been younger than four when he started fending for himself. We don’t know who his parents are because he doesn’t remember them, nor does he remember anyone else who had potentially taken care of him. His parents could be dead for all we know, or they could have dumped him somewhere when they no longer wanted to take care of him. It’s all up to speculation. He also has a very high pain tolerance, probably due to constant beatings as a child.

When you’re all alone in the world, you have to learn to put yourself first. There’s no one to care for you, so only you can care for yourself. I believe that Xue Yang wasn’t always a bad person because no one is inherently evil. However, because he was alone, there was no one to nurture him and teach him right from wrong. When all you experience is violence and hatred, that becomes your response to similar situations; you don’t expect kindness or want to give it in return.

One of Xue Yang’s flaws as a child was his naivety — he was much too quick to trust. That’s how he got himself into such a bad situation. He was eager to have something he was never able to have (candy), so he immediately trusted that shopkeeper when he said he could have some as a reward for running an errand. What he got in return wasn’t candy, but a brutal beating and a severed pinky. If Xue Yang had still had any faith left in humanity, this is the point where it would have left him. The remaining childhood innocence in him was gone. This brings me to an interesting piece of dialogue. In Yi City, when Xue Yang confronts Song Lan and tells him what he’s been up to, Song Lan curses at him, calling him an animal. Xue Yang laughs at him and says, “I quit using those words when I was seven.” And what happened to Xue Yang’s finger? “One finger was ground into battered flesh on the spot. The child was seven.” Even Xue Yang himself knows that moment was when everything changed, and he still carries the resentment with him now.

Back to the cart incident. This event scarred him for life and was the primary reason he became a sociopath. Now he’s bent on revenge. He was powerless as a child; just another street rat who shouldn’t be treated like a human being nor spared any pity. So, when he realizes he can do the same to those that hurt him, he takes it much further. When he was old enough and strong enough, he exacts his revenge. He wanted to make the Chang Clan feel his pain — not only for the finger he had lost but for his whole miserable life up to that point. If no one deigned to understand him, then he’d make them understand in the only way he knew how. With violence.

Xue Yang was only fifteen or sixteen when he slaughtered the Chang Clan, killing more than fifty people. This is where he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. From the first moment, Xue Yang hates Xiao Xingchen. He’s so righteous, so full of light. He thinks he makes the world better just by doing a little good. What a hypocrite. Where was he when he was needed? Where was he when Xue Yang was a seven-year-old boy left crying in the streets after having his finger ground to a pulp? No, nobody can be that good.

When Xue Yang is captured by Wei Wuxian and the others, Xiao Xingchen takes him back to Qinghe to be apprehended, and Xue Yang vows to get his revenge on Xiao Xingchen for it. It isn’t long after he escapes from Qinghe that Xue Yang slaughters Baixue Temple, blinding Song Lan in the process. According to Xue Yang’s logic, hurting Xiao Xingchen’s friend is just as bad as hurting Xiao Xingchen himself. This is what causes the rift between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. Without this incident, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen may never have met again.

A few years have likely passed while Xue Yang was working for Jin Guangyao. He is probably closer to eighteen or nineteen when Jin Guangyao injures him and throws him out, which is how Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing find him. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t hesitate in bringing Xue Yang back to Yi City with him and A-Qing and caring for his wounds. Xue Yang wakes up pained and disoriented, but he immediately tries to back away when he realizes who is tending to him. He doesn’t know Xiao Xingchen is unaware of his identity, and probably thinks that Xiao Xingchen is getting ready to take him to face justice or something. But Xiao Xingchen insists that he doesn’t need to know who Xue Yang is and that he’s only doing what’s right. Xue Yang is clearly shocked by this admission. He truly cannot comprehend kindness, and this is the first time he’s ever experienced it.

This is also the first time we get to see his genuine smile. It’s shocked and incredulous, like he can’t believe this is happening, but it’s there. Throughout the series, Xue Yang’s snarky words and sly smirk are a token of his character, but now we know they are just a mask he uses to hide the small, broken child inside of him. If no one can see the hurt he hides, then no one can hurt him further. But with just one kind gesture, Xiao Xingchen was able to bring out the young boy who just wanted love and comfort.

This kindness is such a foreign concept to Xue Yang that he doesn’t think it’s genuine for a long time. But as the years pass, Xue Yang comes to realize that Xiao Xingchen isn’t a threat. This is something he scoffs at. Xiao Xingchen is ridiculously naïve; so stupid. If he knew who he was living with, who he was eating with, he wouldn’t act like this. He would treat Xue Yang the same way everyone else had. So, Xue Yang decides to trick Xiao Xingchen into murdering innocent people for revenge. Xue Yang can’t wait for Xiao Xingchen to find out what Xue Yang has made him do because it’ll break him. What this revenge is for is up to interpretation. Maybe he’s still angry about being captured and sent to Qinghe. Maybe he’s angry at the world for treating him so badly. Maybe Xue Yang wants to show Xiao Xingchen that his worldview is stupid and that there are no good or pure people in the world. I choose to believe that it’s the last one.

At least, this is his motivation at first — he slowly loses the will to harm Xiao Xingchen. This brings me to another interesting point. In episode three, Xue Yang says he doesn’t fear death, he fears boredom. But isn’t this domestic life he’s living with Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing considered boring by his standards? I think the boredom he speaks of is really the fear of being alone and having nothing at all. Now he’s happy, however reluctantly he’s willing to admit it. He wouldn’t have put up with A-Qing’s petulant behavior if he didn’t enjoy the time they spent together. Although they didn’t get along at first, Xue Yang protects A-Qing and takes care of her like an annoying older brother. He teases her, sure, but he also cuts her apple slices in the shape of rabbits and gives her advice on how to scare away the people who bully her (even though killing them isn’t great advice). Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing were the family he never had. Now he would do anything to preserve the life he is living.

After about a year, Xue Yang’s plan stopped being about revenge. I’m not completely sure how he justified this change of heart, but I like to think he told himself he was still biding his time and that he’d get back to it eventually (even if he had stopped thinking about hurting Xiao Xingchen). Based on what A-Qing told Song Lan when he arrived at Yi City, Xue Yang hadn’t taken Xiao Xingchen out on one of those night hunts in a long time. And most of the people that Xue Yang made Xiao Xingchen kill were the merchants that made fun of his blindness and cheated him with bad vegetables and high prices. It was a messed-up way to get revenge for Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang hates being looked down on, so shouldn’t Xiao Xingchen feel the same way?

Nevertheless, the time they spent in Yi City was probably the only time Xue Yang had been happy in his entire life. Xiao Xingchen was so in tune with what Xue Yang needed that Xue Yang came to care for him deeply. Whether those feelings were romantic or platonic in nature is up to the viewer, but I believe Xue Yang had fallen in love with Xiao Xingchen in the only sick and twisted way he could. Xiao Xingchen understood him more than anyone ever had, going so far as to listen to his idle ramblings and bring him a piece of candy every day after hearing that he had loved sweets as a child but could never have any. He managed to tame the savage beast in Xue Yang’s heart with only his presence and basic human decency. Xue Yang’s bloodlust was satiated as long as he had Xiao Xingchen to take care of him. At this point, I don’t think he would ever actually kill Xiao Xingchen. He had stopped wanting to hurt him a long time ago. A-Qing? Sure. She’s expendable, but Xiao Xingchen is irreplaceable. Even if Xue Yang reluctantly came to care about her, it wasn’t the same kind of bond. She had never shown him the same kindness that Xiao Xingchen had. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she betrayed him, but she was important to Xiao Xingchen, which meant he couldn’t do her any harm if he didn’t want to disrupt their happy life.

If Song Lan hadn’t found them, how long would Xue Yang have stayed? I don’t even think he knew. He just knew that he didn’t want to leave anymore. Xiao Xingchen gave him too much for him to want that. The viewer can easily see the happiness in his eyes when he looks at Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang acts like a kid around him — playing games, joking around, making him laugh with childish remarks. Even in the quiet moments, he’s happy. This was especially noticeable in the campfire scene. It wasn’t shown in the original drama, but in the special edition, Xue Yang smiled at Xiao Xingchen from across the fire, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at his daozhang was so tender that it honestly caught me off guard. It seemed to catch Xue Yang off guard too because he caught himself, and the smile slowly fell. It’s like he realized what he’s doing and remembered that this should be about revenge.

Where in the past, Xue Yang hated Xiao Xingchen for his righteousness, he now loves him for his naivety. Without it, Xue Yang knows that Xiao Xingchen would be disgusted with himself. There would be no more laughs, no more games, and no more smiles. Then Xue Yang would lose the one person who didn’t treat him like dirt. So, when Song Lan finds them, Xue Yang immediately perceives it as a threat to their domestic life. He knows how important Song Lan is to Xiao Xingchen, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Xiao Xingchen won’t hesitate to leave with Song Lan when he discovers Xue Yang’s identity.

Furthermore, Xue Yang resents Song Lan for taking Xiao Xingchen’s eyes (even though it was voluntary on Xiao Xingchen’s part and was essentially Xue Yang’s fault). His logic tells him that having Xiao Xingchen kill Song Lan would be the perfect way for Xiao Xingchen to get his revenge. What Xue Yang doesn’t understand is that not everyone thinks about things in the context of revenge. I don’t believe Xiao Xingchen ever truly regretted giving up his sight. But Xue Yang can’t comprehend how someone could be that selfless.

This is where it all falls apart. A-Qing sees what happened to Song Lan, and she runs to Xiao Xingchen and tells him everything. When Xiao Xingchen comes back to confront him, Xue Yang spills it all. There’s nothing left for him to lose. His mask falls again, and he basically bares his soul to Xiao Xingchen. This is probably the first time he’s told the story about his finger, and I think he genuinely thought Xiao Xingchen was going to understand him; that if he knew what Xue Yang went through, he’d sympathize with him and justify his action (thereby justifying his feelings). Instead of that, however, Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, and it flips a switch inside of Xue Yang. How can Xiao Xingchen call him disgusting when he’s killed people too?

I think one of the reasons Xue Yang led Xiao Xingchen to kill those people was to bring Xiao Xingchen down to his level. Xue Yang doesn’t think that anyone can be as good as Xiao Xingchen claimed to be, so he had to taint his perfect record. Maybe if he killed people, Xiao Xingchen would understand him. Xue Yang thought that when Xiao Xingchen found out, he’d stay with him. Now he’s not the same righteous person he used to be, so how could he be good enough to travel the world with Song Lan? No, he should stay with Xue Yang instead and live a happy life together.

So, when Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, Xue Yang was probably confused and upset, which made him instinctively put his mask back up. Being vulnerable only hurt him again, so he’s back to harsh words and smirks, telling Xiao Xingchen that this is why he’s always hated him and that all of this was fun. Fun in every sense of the word: the killing and the happiness.

Xiao Xingchen finding out that he killed Song Lan was the last straw. Xue Yang is still laughing as Xiao Xingchen slits his own throat. It takes a moment for the realization to set in, but as it does, the smile falls from Xue Yang’s lips, and his hands begin to shake. This is the third time his mask has fallen. His eyes begin to well with tears, but he tries to keep up his act, saying that dead ones are easier to control, but the only one he’s acting for is himself.

The next scene is the one that really solidified Xue Yang’s feelings for me. He cleans the blood from Xiao Xingchen’s skin with the same care that Xiao Xingchen had shown him when he first found Xue Yang in that ditch. Xue Yang clearly thinks that Xiao Xingchen is going to come back and that the ritual will work, that he staves off his tears and sets out food for both of them. He considers eating his candy but then decides he should wait until Xiao Xingchen comes back. If he’s back, then Xue Yang is sure to get another piece.

When he realizes that the ritual isn’t working and Xiao Xingchen isn’t coming back, he breaks down. The tantrum he throws is so full of rage and anguish that it really shows the depth of his feelings for Xiao Xingchen. Again, he goes back to acting, trying to guilt Xiao Xingchen’s dead body into coming back to life by telling him all the terrible things he’ll do to Song Lan and A-Qing if he doesn’t reawaken. Obviously, Xiao Xingchen can’t hear him, and Xue Yang knows this, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He finally dissolves into tears, screaming and crying over Xiao Xingchen’s corpse. This may have been the first time he’s cried since he lost his finger. Crying is for innocent, naïve children, and it doesn’t help anybody. But now Xue Yang has had a taste of pure sweetness and doesn’t want to go back to the bitter life he has known, so he finally lets himself weep for all the things he could have had.

Xue Yang spent the next seven years trying to bring Xiao Xingchen back to life with no success. We don’t know much about his activities after Yi City, but we have gotten information through rumors that Shuanghua was being used to kill innocents. It seems like Xue Yang wanted to keep a part of Xiao Xingchen with him. He even continued his sick revenge plot after Xiao Xingchen’s death by gouging out the eyes of and killing the remains of the Chang Clan, including their leader, Chang Ping, by lingchi. Xue Yang doesn’t blame himself in the slightest; he just thinks that Xiao Xingchen’s death was an unfortunate consequence of the situation. He will put the blame on anyone and everyone other than himself. Thus, instead of performing lingchi on himself like Wei Wuxian suggested, he takes out his anger on the remains of the Chang Clan.

Everything Xue Yang does in the present is tied to Xiao Xingchen, yet he still can’t bring him back. So, when he heard that the Yiling Patriarch had suddenly come back to life, Xue Yang knew it was his last chance. The sword ghost/ghost arm is what led Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to Yi City. It was pointing to its murderer. I’m sure Xue Yang could have avoided a confrontation if he wanted, but this was intentional. As for the juniors, I have a feeling that Xue Yang was behind the cat corpses that led them to meet up with Wei Wuxian. This is still unclear though because Xue Yang doesn’t have a real reason to get them involved. The only person he needs is Wei Wuxian.

Xue Yang has tried everything at this point. So, when Wei Wuxian finds him in Yi City, pretending to be Xiao Xingchen, he is completely desperate. I do wonder if that is something he has done more than once. Did he often go around dressed as Xiao Xingchen? Was he playing with the life they had in Yi City? Pretending he was still there? Or was it a one-time thing to trick Wei Wuxian into dropping his guard? I also wonder how often he used his own sword because only after Lan Zhan took Shuanghua from him did he pull out Jiangzai. That could be because he was acting as Xiao Xingchen, but we can’t be sure. However, that isn’t the point. Right now, Wei Wuxian was Xue Yang’s only option because the Yiling Patriarch surely knew things he didn’t. Xue Yang had lived with Xiao Xingchen’s corpse for those seven years, keeping him in pristine condition. I’m pretty sure the only way Xue Yang could have done this was by giving him spiritual energy every day, which would be incredibly draining. I don’t think Xue Yang had an exceptionally strong golden core to begin with either. He is primarily a demonic cultivator, which means he doesn’t use his golden core often. It must have taken most of his strength to keep Xiao Xingchen’s body in such good condition. But anything for daozhang, right? Xue Yang needed Xiao Xingchen’s body to be perfect when he returned. He also put aside his pride and used Song Lan for protection all those years. He kept the one person he continued to hate with a burning passion around him for so long.

When Wei Wuxian tells Xue Yang he can’t bring Xiao Xingchen back to life because his soul is too broken, Xue Yang refuses to believe it. It’s been seven years already; he can’t give up now. Deep down, I believe Xue Yang knows Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t want anything to do with him even if he did come back, but he can’t figure out why. Because nothing was his fault, of course.

Something Wei Wuxian said really struck me as I went back to rewatch episode 39. Before the fight, Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang and says, “you disgust him to the core, yet you still want to pull him back to play this stupid game.” Xue Yang responds with “I want nothing of the kind.” And he’s being honest. He doesn’t want a stupid game — he wants something real. He wants a life where Xiao Xingchen knows his identity and stays with him in spite of it. He just wants one person to accept him as he is, but that will never, nor could ever, happen —not with all the crimes he has committed.

When Lan Wangji cut off his arm, leaving Xue Yang bleeding on the ground, I think he knew it was over. There was nothing left for him now. He was never getting Xiao Xingchen back. He never had him in the first place, not in any way that counted. So he laughs, blood spilling from his lips, to cover up the tears he wishes he could cry.

He’s ready when Song Lan stabs him, dying with a smile on his face as he gazes at the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen had ever given him. It’s blackened and inedible, yet Xue Yang held on to it for so long; it was a reminder of his daozhang and of why he was fighting so hard. Like his character song said, he was “too determined to let go.”

It’s kind of sad that even in death, he was never respected by anyone other than Xiao Xingchen, and all of that was built on a lie. He didn’t even get a proper burial, although I suppose he kind of deserved it. Xue Yang is the character I pity the most in this series. He isn’t a good person, nowhere near it, and he deserved the end he got, but I wish things could have been different. What hurts is that it just as easily could have been Wei Wuxian. If Xue Yang had been taken in as a child; if he’d had his own Jiang Fengmian, his own Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, he could have been happier. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and started a sect with them. Realistically, he and Xiao Xingchen would never be lovers because Xiao Xingchen was so strongly connected to Song Lan, but I think they could have been friends.

However, one question I still have is did Xue Yang fall in love with Xiao Xingchen because of how he treated him or because of the person Xiao Xingchen really was? If they had met under different circumstances (and if Xue Yang had had a support system when he was young), would Xue Yang have still fallen in love with him? I guess that’s up to the viewer to decide.

Ultimately, Xue Yang is still a sociopath who can’t understand empathy or feel remorse, so I don’t think he regretted any of his crimes. However, I do believe that Xue Yang regretted the consequences of his actions in Yi City. He didn’t want Xiao Xingchen to die, but his actions were what caused his death. It’s more of a dissatisfaction with where things ended up than feeling guilty for his death. Although I don’t think Xue Yang felt remorseful, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t grieving, nor does it mean his feelings for Xiao Xingchen weren’t as genuine as they could have been.

I don’t know where Xue Yang or Xiao Xingchen will end up now, but I hope they’ll both be happy in their next lives. The same goes for A-Qing and Song Lan (when he finally meets his true end). There are so many things that contributed to Xue Yang’s unstable mind, but I think the moral of the story is that it pays to be kind. If just one person had taken pity on him as a child — had shown him that there was good in the world — I wonder what kind of person he would have become.

I already know how cruel fate is

Not looking, not asking, not grieving, not hating

Waiting to relive my life just for a single person

Ups and downs in life

I would leave no regrets

I tried searching in the darkness of night

When I am trapped in the past

I still hope that a flicker of light will appear in my heart

The legend of this lonely city

Who came here before?

And gifted to me my karma

I am waiting for this karma to liberate spirits, liberate souls, and liberate me

Even though I am already too determined to let go

If I get rid of these inner demons

Would you forgive me?

Gaining freedom from destiny, starting all over again

[milkiane]

my daft pretty boy.

pairings: sirius black x reader

warnings: mentions of food, floof, sirius being a cutie

word count: 1175

note: requested — kinda changed it up a bit

sirius wasn’t having it today. if he had bad days before, he was quite sure that this was the worst. he begged and pleaded remus and james to let him stay in bed until he feels better.

it wasn’t that he was feeling ill, no, but everything suddenly came crashing down on him all at once, leaving him remarkably overwhelmed and blue.

he didn’t even bother to open, yet again, another howler from his parents. he just dunked it in his tea, letting it blow up and splatter the hot drink everywhere, earning some angry grumbles from his housemates.

regulus was still ignoring him, no matter how many times sirius tried to approach him.

and you were nowhere to be found.

it was early still, meaning you were probably getting ready for the day, but sirius has had enough already. disregarding his plate of warm food and the calls of his friends, he immediately stood up, slackening his tie as he tried to steady his breathing, tears slowly welling up in his eyes.

you didn’t notice the absence of your best friend at first, as you were too busy shoving your breakfast in your mouth whilst reviewing the notes for your upcoming potions exam.

it wasn’t until after the said potions exam that you noticed that you haven’t heard or seen your favorite person.

“hey prongs?” you tapped james’ shoulder, “have you seen sirius? i haven’t seen him yet,”

james turned around to face you, pushing his glasses up to his nose, “s’been in bed since earlier, reckon he’s having an off day,”

you frowned, packing up your things to check up on him.

“just a fair warning though, y/n,” peter started, “he didn’t let us in a while ago,”

“thanks, pete,” you smiled, “i’ll see you guys around,”

after bidding your goodbyes, you took the detour towards the kitchens, making sure not to get caught.

you tickled the pear, and with a satisfying whoosh, you went into the bustling kitchens. the warm and comforting aroma surrounding you with a sense of home.

“hey, pinky,” you greeted the kitchen elf, “have you got any spare food lying around here for sirius?”

“ooh! pinky has plenty of food for miss y/n and her friend,” her big eyes lighting up, and with a snap of her finger, the once empty table was filled with aggregations of snacks, “for miss y/n and her friend.”

“thank you, pinky,” you grinned, grabbing a hold of the food, “you have an amazing day!”

sirius was just another lump in his twin-sized bed. the blanket wrapped around him from head to toe, his face the only thing that isn’t covered.

music coming out from remus’ vinyl player was the only thing he could pay attention to. the soft tunes of the beatles easing him a bit, silencing the unwanted thoughts.

knock, knock.

he groaned, burying his head in his pillows, “go away, wormtail,”

“s’not peter this time, sirius,” your muffled voice making him raise his head a bit, you tried turning the knob to no avail and your wand was out of reach, considering that you were carrying loads of food, “d’you mind opening the door?”

sirius begrudgingly got out of bed, still encased by his quilt. when he opened the door, he wasn’t expecting you to be carrying an armful of his favorite foods.

“heard you were having an awful day,” you smiled softly, “let me in?”

sirius wordlessly moved aside and looked at you, watching as you dropped the food in his bed and sat down. you patted the space next to you, gesturing him to sit next to you.

once he sat next to you, you laid a few chocolate frogs on his lap, “are you alright?”

“just not feeling it today,” he mumbled, holding the warm thermos of hot chocolate, heating up his cold hands.

you hummed, moving the snacks a bit to make yourself comfortable.

he confusedly stared at you, “don’t you have class?”

you shrugged, eating a piece of crisp, “‘m sure the professors would understand that my best friend needs cheering up the whole day,”

sirius stared at you in a new light. he was in awe of you. sure, he appreciated you, you were his best friend since first year, after all— but seeing you here in his dorm, bringing him snacks and skipping class for him (which you were usually against), has sirius feeling some sort of way, “i always thought you were too good f’me,”

it has been at least a few days since sirius had realized his feelings for you. just being in your presence made him feel better almost immediately, he opened up and talked about everything, and you were there, you listened. you made some jokes and quips here and there, evidently making him laugh. the smile that would make any gloomy day bright up. his smile was probably your favorite thing about him.

and his eyes, how easily you could get lost in the brown swirls of his eyes. you loved everything about him, really.

sirius spent a whole night trying to make sure of his feelings, trying to ensure that it wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment thing. he would say that he technically did, but he just spent the night thinking of you and ended up dreaming of you.

you stood up from the library couch you were in, approaching one of the bookshelves to return the book you were reading when you caught sight of sirius.

he was too busy ogling at you that he promptly didn’t notice when you were approaching him. sirius’ eyes widened and immediately lifted the book to his face, cursing himself for getting caught.

“sirius?” you inquired, “what’re you doing here?”

he feigned surprise, “oh!” awkwardly shifting on his feet as he shook the book a bit, “uh reading,”

you lowered your head a bit as you glanced at the book he’s reading, “reading…” you snorted, “sex tips for beginners?”

without letting your words sink in properly, he nodded feverishly and paused, “i-what?”

you laughed as he glanced at the title of the book and groaned, returning it to where he got it, “alright, i may or may not have been staring at you,”

you furrowed your brows, walking beside him as you left the library, “exactly why were you staring at me?”

“i fancy you,” he grinned, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

you stopped on your tracks, “i’m sorry?”

“s’just,” he sighed, “you’ve always been right in front of me, and i never noticed. it wasn’t until you took care of me a few days ago when i realized.”

you laughed softly, “finally!”

he looked at you confused, “what?”

“i’ve loved you all my life, sirius,” you smiled up at him, and huffed at him in disbelief, “you know me better than myself, how did you not notice my feelings?”

“i-“ he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “guess ‘m just that daft.”

“my daft pretty boy,” you cooed, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“don’t push it.”

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirly @hellounicorn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

marauders taglist: @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @eunoniaa @acosmis-t @amrtxntias @cedrics-grave @dracosgoodgirl @msmb

[oligbia]

Hi hii~

Could you do a truth or dare (or 7 minutes in heaven) Eijiro Kirishima short story (maybe nsfw if possible heh), please? 🥺

Keep up the great work!! 💕

Of course you can darling! Im super excited to get any and all requests and im really excited to do this one! Thank you so much for your support, it means the absolute world to me. I haven't written a lot of smut with guys recently, ive been on more of a wlw thing, so im a little rusty hehe. . .

I honestly didn't do a lot of editing on this once it was done, I had it going like "all the way" then realized Kiri wouldn't do that on the first day- anyways it'll make sense. If you want more Kiri stuff I can totally give you more, just let me know :)

7 Minutes In Heaven

Pro Hero!Eijiro KirishimaXReader

NSFW, Minors do not interact

Warnings: Sexual behavior, giving and receiving oral, making out in a closet, mild swearing

A hero gala was an event like none other.  It was a night were all Japan's hero's and their dotting staff would all assemble to accept awards and receive rankings. It was a night for citizens to see their favorite hero's dressed to the nines and hash out who was truly the best hero on social media.

And, for starter hero's, it's was night to get shit faced, since the likelyhood of them reciving any award was slim anyways.

Pro heroes Red Riot, Pinky, Cellophane, and Chargebolt where no exception to this. They were all still pretty low in the ranks of heroes, especially considering they were all fresh out of UA only a few years ago. The only two UA graduates to jump into the hero world right were no surprise Deku and Dynamite. Deku practically left UA the top hero, entering in at the 5th rank overall. Dynamite took a little work, he still wasn't a fan favorite, but his work was undeniable, he was easily starting in at rank 10.

The formerly-known bakusquad sat comfortably at the back of the gala room, all a little tipsy. They watched as Bakugou was being practically held on a child leash by Best Jeanist, forced to be on best behavior.

Denki watched the room quickly, his shifting glances moving quickly. His eyes landed on your figure somewhere across the way.

"Oh my god, is that Y/N? We haven't seen her since UA!" His voice wasn't at all hushed, people around the table glancing at him with slight disgust.

"Woah, that totally is!" Sero joined in on the ogling. "She's like, totally hot now!"

Kirishima looked your way, practically chocking on his champagne. He let out a few strangled coughs when his eyes landed on your form. The dress you were wearing was long and elegant, showing off your curves and hugging your waist. He was able to see your toned arms and watch as they elegantly moved as you spoke.

Mina poked Kiri's now flushed cheek. "You always had quite the hots for Y/N in UA, huh? And she wasn't even in our class."

Kirishima rolled his eyes. "I didn't 'have the hots for her.' I just thought she was...manly."

Denki and Sero puckered their faces, making kissing sounds, their drunken state throwing them back to a bunch of 14 year olds, rather than the 24 year olds they were now.

Kirishima waved them off, shaking his head. Mina abruptly stood up, waving you over. It was no time before you turned around, your gaze meeting her as you flashed your smile at her.

Kirishima swatted at Mina, trying to pull her back into her seat. "Mina, sit down, you're embarrassing us."

"Oh please, those two are embarrassing. I'm helping."

Kirishima watched as you moved your way to his table smiling softly. "It's great to see you all. I haven't seen you guys since we graduated."

Kirishima wanted to say something, but his tongue was sadly caught in his own mouth.

"Crazy, I know! I see you're doing well as a support gear engineer, that's exciting!" Mina made easy small talk, her foot kicking Kirishima's calf under the table. "You know, Kirishima here has been needing some new support gear!"

You smiled at Kiri, your own face going a little red. He was much older now. His jawline was more defined, his build larger. You couldn't tell from his suit how much stronger he was, but you could tell he was clearly built and taller. His hair had grown out a bit, it neatly tied back into a manbun.

"Oh? Does Fatgum not have someone who can make it for you?"

Kirishima smiled, laughing awkwardly. "He does, or, we do. They just, aren't as good at you."

"You haven't seen my work since UA, it's not l that improved. I still have a lot to learn before I'm good…"

Kirishima shook his head. "Don't say that, you were always super smart and made us amazing gear!" Kirishima blushed at his sudden enthusiasm.

Mina stood up, offering you her seat. "Y/N, would you mind staying here with Kiri for a moment, I think Denki and Sero needed to excuse themselves but are a little, ya'know." Mina made a drinking motion with her hand, elbowing Sero and Denki to follow her lead. The two had been snickering the entire time while simultaneously drooling over you.  

The trio walked off, leaving you alone with Kirishima. Kirishima chuckled softly, lost for words again.

"So, how's the side-kick life?"

Kirishima looked up at you. "It's alright. Fatgum is an amazing hero. He's super manly! And working for him is great too! Especially when he feeds me during patrols!"

You smiled at him, that smile that drives him crazy. "Well, you're definitely in the favor of girls everywhere. Your girlfriend is probably thrilled to have such a stong-"

"I don't have a girlfriend!" Kirishima practically leaped from his seat to assure you that he was indeed single. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure. "I don't have a girlfriend. I am, completely single."

"Oh. I just figured someone as amazing and pretty as yourself would have a girlfriend." You looked down at your fingers, fidgeting with them as a soft blush spread across your face.

"You think I’m pretty?" Kirishima looks over at you, flashing you a small, toothy, grin.

"Is that weird?"

"Not at all! I think it's manly!"

You both laughed awkwardly. You both sit in silence for a moment, an incredibly awkward silence.

Kirishima spoke up first. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You shook your head no. Kirishima nodded. Muttering a “cool, cool” under his breath.

Shortly thereafter, much to Kirishima’s relief, Mina returned with Denki and Sero. She smiled at you, her gaze warm. “These two are a bit over the edge and about to make a fool of themselves. I think we should go to Kirishima’s place and continue this party there, yea?”

Kirishima groaned. “Why my place? You have your own house, Mina.”

“I know, but yours is so much bigger and it’s closer to the venue.” She winked at Kirishima and glanced at youquickly, dropping hints. Kirishima, a little confused, gave up any sort of bickering he had.

“Fine.” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling at you. “Did you want to come, Y/N?”

You nodded, thanking him for the invitation. Mina threw her hands up excitedly, grabbing Denki and Sero, pulling them out behind her. Kirishima stood up, offering you his arm. You rested your hands on it, allowing him to lead you out of the venue.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Denki called out, laying sprawled out on Kirishima’s living room floor. Sero was laying near him, half asleep. Mina was cast over a chair, her legs dangling over one of the armrests. You were seated comfortably on Kirishima’s couch, wearing a pair of his sweats and hoodies. He had offered you the change of clothes when you came over with the group, wanting to keep you comfortable. To him, seeing you in his clothes was some fantasy of his. The way his clothes hung off your smaller body was adorable and was doing something to him he wasn’t sure he could explain.  

Sero shoots Denki a look. “Isn’t that game for middle schoolers? People our age play, I don’t know, checkers?”

Mina perked up at the mention of the game. She was, of course, the matchmaker of the night, determined to land Kiri a girlfriend out of the girl he spent his entire high school experience crushing on, or, at least, give him a solid one-night stand if you both were willing. “Don’t be such a drag, Sero! It can be fun. We’re 24, not 64.”

Mina spun herself around in the chair, sitting cross legged and facing the group. She looked over at you and Kiri, who was sitting a considerable distance from each other on the couch. “What about it, you two. Are you both down?”

Kirishima shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of Mina and her antics.

“Why not?”

Kirishima’s face shot to face yours, his eyes wide in surprise. “I’m in too, I guess.”

Mina clapped her hands together. “Okie dokie, zappy, you get us started.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

After being a few hours into the game, Denki was officially dumbed out and Sero was asleep on the couch. Mina giggled, looking over at you. “Okay okay Y/N, truth or dare?”

You hummed, thinking. “Truth.”

Mina groaned. “C’mon, pick dare for once!”

You shook your head. “Please, last time I did, you had me eat a spoonful of that random shit Kirishima had in his fridge.”

Kirishima chuckled, “I swear to you, it’s Bakugou’s.”

Mina sighed. “Fine. Back in your UA days, was there ever someone you had a crush on?”

Your face grew red as a blush laid across your cheeks. “What?”

Mina teased you, “A crush! You got to build hero gear for all those classmates and see them in their trained glory. . .you had to have liked someone.”

“I mean, there was someone. But it’s long done, they wouldn’t have liked me anyway and we’re grown up now.”

Mina pouted. “C’mon, Y/N, that isn’t true. You’re so pretty, any guy would have liked you! Who was it?”

You inhaled a deep breath, looking at the ground, Kirishima and Mina’s eyes both peering daggers into you.

Denki, finally coming back to reality, slurred his words together. “It was definitely me, wasn’t it?”

You shook your head. “In your dreams.”

Denki pouted, but Kirishima let out a breath of relief. His chances of knowing you maybe had liked him back at one point was the right amount of reassurance he needed.

You looked at Mina. “If I tell you, you have to swear to me you’ll keep quiet.”

Mina motioned a zipper over her lips. “Sister’s honor.”

You lean over your end of the couch, pressing your face against Mina's ear. You cup your hands, whispering into her ear the name she was waiting for.

And like gears working in clockwork, Mina was working on the ultimate plan to get the two of you alone.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Kirishima, truth or dare?”

“Dare. Hit me with the best you got.” It was well into the early hours of the morning now, the hero gala long over. You still were at Kirishima’s house, playing truth or dare. You were sitting closer to Kirishima now, sharing a blanket over the two of you, legs brushing softly. His hand was constantly inches from yours, the idea of holding it constantly toying in the back of his mind.

“7 Minutes in Heaven with Y/N.”

Both of your jaws practically hit the floor, a deep crimson spreading over both of your cheeks. You looked away from Kirishima, trying to hide your fluster. He placed a gentle hand on your knee, speaking to you softly. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can take you home right now if you want.”

Thoughts spread through your mind, deciding what to do. You liked Kirishima, you had for years now. You did at UA when you worked to design his hero gear, and your affections never wore off, watching him do his job as a hero sidekick only fueling the admiration you had for him.

“I’m okay with it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The closet in Kirishima’s room smelled like fresh laundry, his calonge, and teen-turned-young-adult pheromones. It was dark, you were hardly able to make out the tall and well-built man in front of you, his muscles and long mane outlined softly. He went to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally bumping your smaller form. He rushed out a frantic apology, the blush growing on both of your faces.

“Hey, Y/N, who was it you liked at UA?”

You looked away from him, trying to hide your face. You mumbled softly to yourself some answer he wasn’t able to hear.

“What was that?”

You remained quiet, not budging. Kirishima gulped, swallowing the massive lump of pride that was making his mouth dry. “I guess a closet during a game of truth or dare is a pretty good time to tell you,” Kirishima fumbled over his words a little, grabbing for your free hand. “I always sort of liked you. I mean, I liked you when we were kids at UA. But then we graduated, but, I guess I never really stopped. I’m not sure how manly that is-”

“I like you too.”

“...but you probably like heroes like Midoriya or Bakugou- wait what?” Kirishima stopped his rambling, trying to find your eyes in the dark. He locked onto the faint glimmer of your eyes in the dark. He was always one to think that being manly meant taking a risk from time to time, and he was everything that was manly.

Kirishima pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The hand that wasn’t holding yours wandered to cup your face, holding it close to him. You gasped into the kiss, his sudden embrace taking you for a surprise. His lips were surprisingly soft, tasting faintly of cherries and champagne. The kiss was initially gentle, but, feeling your body press flesh against his, Kirishima dipped your head, deepening the kiss.

The hand that was grabbing yours found its way to your waist, tugging you closer to him. You sighed into the kiss, Kirishima’s breath warm against your skin. His tongue gently brushed across your bottom lip, his teeth accidentally grazing yours in his rushed attempt to draw you both even closer.

You pulled away first, looking up at Kirishima with half-lidded eyes, painting slightly. You licked your lips, taking in the remaining taste of his cherry taste. Kirishima let out a husky and shaky breath, still holding your waist. He blinked a few times, realization hitting him over what he had done.

"Oh my God, Y/N, I am so sorry, it isn't manly to not ask for consent first and-"

"Kirishima, it's okay. I agreed to come into this closet with you like we were kids or something."

Kirishima pulled you against him again, hovering his face against your ear. His voice was soft, growing husky with his hushed volume.

"Then, can I kiss you again?"

You nodded softly, anticipation growing.

"Perfect." Kirishima grabbed your face, smashing his lips into yours. Your hands traveled to hang off his neck, gently toying with his long locks. Kirishima gently moved his hand from your waist, letting it rest on your lower back as he pulled you even closer to him. His tongue licked your bottom lip, gently pulling it with his bottom lip. You mewled softly into the kiss, letting his tongue meet yours as it lapped up your mouth.

Needing air, Kirishima pulled off from your kiss, going to press kisses along your jawline and neck. He pressed fast and quick butterfly kisses to your neck, your hands tugging at his hair. He grunted, frustrated with the restraints of his hoodie you were wearing. You gently pushed him off, pulling his hoodie over your head, landing somewhere amongst his closet. Kirishima smiled at your now exposed top, your breasts filling out the bra you were wearing.

"You are absolutely stunning." He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "Can we keep going?"

You nodded, and Kirishima took no time going back to kissing your neck, this time leaving sloppy open kisses, his tongue leaving wet and sloppy marks along your skin. His teeth grazed at your skin ever so slightly, sending shivers up your spine. His teeth grazed over your sensitive spot as you moaned out involuntarily. Your hand quickly shot up to cover your mouth, aware of the fact that people were sitting in Kirishima's living room, possibly hearing you.

Kirishima pulled away, looking at you confused. He gently moved your hand from your mouth. "Why would you want to be quiet? You sounded so pretty?"

Kirishima, without hesitation, nipped at the sensitive part of your neck, desperate to hear you moan again. He kept nipping at your neck, sucking at the skin softly to sooth it. Your little mewls and moans nagging him on and on.

**************

Kaminari looked up from his watch. "Mina it's been forever, go let them out."

Mina, pressed against the door, giggled as she returned back to Kaminari and Sero, who was now awake again.

"No way! Those two are totally going at it. I successfully am the new cupid boys!"

Sero groaned. "Are we going to stay here all night then? I don't want to hear that all night."

Mina shook her head. "No, we'll leave then be."

The trio showed themselves out, but not before Mina could slip a couple pain killers and condoms into your belongings on the way out.

******

Kirishima's hands dipped to your ass, lifting you up. He held you one handed, his strong arms and large hands being bigger than your small form. You pressed lazy kisses to his neck as he fumbled for the doorknob behind him, trying to open the door to his bedroom.  

After you had kissed up and down his jaw and neck, leaving smears of lipstick from the hero gala, Kirishima was able to get the door open. He threw you gently onto the bed, crawling on top of you. If you hadn’t already realized how massive this man’s form was now, you definitely made the connection when he was looming over you. His chest heaved heavily, the muscles in his arms and under his shirt contracting and rippling. His hair was long, falling into his face.

“Kirishima, what if they’re still here…”

Through heavy breaths, he kissed on your neck again, using the same butterfly kisses as before. “Don’t care.”

You hummed at the pleasant feeling of his soft kisses on your skin and the light tickling of his hair grazing your cheeks. “We should check though… they may be worried.”

Kirishima pulled his head back, looking behind him at the door. “Mina?” He yelled out, waiting for a response. “Nothing. It’s just us baby. Are you okay with that?”

You nodded, giving him permission to keep going. His hands traveled up your waist and sides, landing next to your breasts. His locked his lips to yours, his tongue wasting no time dipping into your mouth. Kirishima moved his hands to gently cup your chest over your bra, squeezing softly. A small moan escaped through your mouth, your breasts becoming sensitive under his touch. Your hands traced over his chest and arms, fingertips taking their time to feel each of his muscles. They found themselves in his hair again, pulling at it gently as you raked your hands through it. A shallow moan left Kirishima's lips as he pulled away from you, gently tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away. He looked at you with lidded eyes, a hunger glistening over his face. He looked at you with that same charming smile he always had, pulling his shirt over his chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of him. He had definitely grown since he was in high school all those years ago. He was built like a greek god, his pecks large and his muscles toned. Your fingertips gently felt up his chest and abdomen, shivers traveling up Kirishima’s spine.

“You’re beautiful, Eijiro.”

“Eijiro? We’re that close already?”

You giggled. “I mean, by the way you grabbed my chest, I would think so.”

Kirishima shook his head, lowering his body back down to yours. He kept himself propped up on his arms, leaving soft kisses along your face and jaw before hovering over your ear. “Well, I would love to do more if you let me.” His teeth nipped at the bottom of your ear.

“Please.”

Kirishima’s hands fumbled with the back of your bra, unhooking it and pulling it off you. His hands held your tender breasts. He placed gentle kisses along your chest, fingers toying softly with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over the sensitive buds, pulling them ever so gently. Soft moans sounded from you, only pushing Kirishima further with his teasing.

He looked at you with a wink and a smirk, before placing a gentle kiss over one of your breasts, sucking on it gently. His tongue worked circles around your nipple, your body squirming slightly under his touch. He tugged at it gently with his teeth, pulling away and giving the other breast the same attention. Your hands pulled at his hair, a grunt sounding out over your breast when you found a sensitive spot on his head.

He pulled up, admiring your form under him. Your face was pink with blush, your hair falling in a mess over his face, your lipstick smudged around your lips. Small bruises were adorning your neck and chest, breasts slick with his spit.

“You are absolutely perfect, sweetheart. The best thing I have ever seen.”

Eijiro moved his hands around the sweatpants you had borrowed, pulling them off your legs. His hands grazed the side of your leg, following up from your ankle to you hips. “So, so beautiful.”

He placed gentle kisses along your inner thighs, gently massaging them with his hands. His face was ever so close to your clothed folds, the teasing leaving you a mess. Kirishima took you by surprise, biting down on your thighs. Your moan was louder than any had been so far, the pain being laced with pleasure. You would definitely be able to see his bite marks and a bruise in the morning.

“You like that, huh? You like when I mark you up, make you all mine?”

You nodded, eyes closing as Kirishima bit down on your other thigh as you moaned out in pleasure. He placed gentle kisses over the new bitemark, lapping at it gently with his tongue.

His fingers hooked over the band of your underwear. “Is it okay if I keep going, sweetheart? Only if you want me to.”

You nodded your head, trying to rub your thighs together to get any sort of friction to aid your growing needs.

“Let me hear you, baby. Can I keep going?”

“God, yes Eijiro, please keep going.”

Kirishima smiled and pulled off your underwear, throwing it aside somewhere. His thumb gently felt along your folds, grazing across your clit. “God, every inch of you is absolute perfection. You're so pretty, baby.

You mewled at his touch, your folds already wet in anticipation. Kirishima dragged his tongue across your folds, lapping gently, teasing you. He was practically purring against you, losing his mind. He had never, ever, thought the girl he liked the most would be so completely unraveled under him. He sucked against your clit, moans and strings of babbled phrases leaving your mouth.

“Stop teasing me, Eijiro. Please, give me more.”

He pulled away, blowing softly against you, the cold air sending you squirming again. “So greedy, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

He rolled your clit with the pad of his thumb, moving it in soft circles. Your waist bucked forward under his touch, a growing tension in your stomach. Kirishima gently placed two fingers in you, pumping them out gently. You moaned, the stretch of his large fingers was absolutely unraveling. He pumped them in and out slowly, wanting you to get adjusted the best you could. He watched as you clenched around his digits. His thrusts turned to a scissoring motion as he added a third finger. The new stretch was absolutely mind numbing. He pumped the three fingers in and out of you, barely grazing the spot that needed him most. You bucked forward to him, trying to lower yourself further onto your fingers. Kirishima watched with intention, thrusting his fingers in deeper and faster. He hit the spot you needed, the moan leaving your lips was sinful and the best thing he had ever heard.

“Right there, Eijiro. Please, right there.”

“Is that good, baby? Do you feel good?” Kirishima’s voice was low, a practical growl. You mewled, legs shaking.

“I, I think I’m close.”

"That's okay, you can come when you're ready. I want you to feel good."

Kirishima thrusted his fingers in and out of you, curling them against your g-spot. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, snapping as Kirishima rubbed against your clit. Your body shook as you came, moaning his name.

Kirishima pulled his fingers out gently, locking eyes with you as he licked your juices off his fingers, sucking them slowly and licking them clean. He licked a clean stripe against your folds, sucking any remaining juices from you. You mewled and moaned, sensitive to his touch.

"You taste so good, so perfect, Y/N." Kirishima's face was covered in your slick and sweat, your lipstick still smeared on his neck. His hair was a mess, tangled from where your hands had been tugging at it.

You sat up a little, "Can I take care of that?" You glanced down at the tent that was straining against his pants.

"Only if you want." Kirishima pulled you closer to him, sitting you on his lap at the end of the bed, moving you around with ease. His head rested against your ear, voice low. "I want you to feel good, sweetheart."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, sliding off his lap and sitting on your knees on the ground. You felt the fabriced bulge, watching as Kirishima shivered, eyes never leaving you. You slowly undid his belt, pulling his pants off him, letting them rest at his feet. His erection sprang through his boxers, precum peaking through. You licked a strip over, the fabric growing damp under your touch. Kirishima's grip tightened on the sheets of the bed. You palmed the length, trying to rub it, but it was honestly much to large for one hand to manage. Your mind was putty imagining how much he was packing.

You hooked the band of his boxers around your fingers, pulling them off his legs. Your eyes widened, gawking at the sight of him. He was, large, to say the least. You honestly weren't sure if you could manage him.

"Like what you see, baby?" Kirishima smirked down at you, eyebrows raised.

You nodded, rubbing a circle around his tip with your thumb. Kirishima let out a shaky breath, his composer slowly breaking.

You tried to stroke him up and down, your hand unable to fully wrap around his shaft. You pumped up and down gently, picking up speed slowly. Kirishima threw his head back, mumbling your name under his breath.

You took him into your mouth slowly, tounge swirling around his tip.

"Fuck, Y/N" Kirishima's voice was breathy and full of need.

You bobbed your head up and down his length slowly, trying to take in as much as you could. When you hollowed out your cheeks, taking in enough of him that you hit the back of your throat, Kiri let out one of the most sinful moans you had heard. He was one of the last people you would expect to be so vocal, but if you said it wasn't the hottest thing you've heard, you would be lying.

Kirishima grabbed onto a bunch of your hair, his hand massive against your hair. He pulled you gently up and down his length, guiding you through what felt good.

"Just like that, baby. Good girl."  

You grew faster, stroking the lengths you couldn't reach with your mouth. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his grip on on your head tighter.

"I'm so close, Y/N. Fuck, you're so good. Take me like the pretty girl you are."

You stroked him faster, licking against him as he moved in and out of your face. You watched his face contort as he came in your mouth. You liked your lips, swallowing his load the best you could. You coughed a little, not anticipating so much. Kirishima panted, relieved. His eyes widened, realizing what happened. He looked at you, leftovers come sitting on your face.

"Oh my God, i'm so sorry. Hold on-"

Kirishima pulled a towel out of the closet, cleaning your face off.

"You don't have to apologize. I just hope I did okay?"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You were perfect. Thank you."

He helped you stand, holding your waist. "If it isn't too much too soon, we can shower and you can maybe sleep over?"

"I would like that, Eijiro."

[vidalinav]

Letting Things Get too Far: (One-shot) *Contains ACOSF spoilers

This is not the fic I was going to post and I am on the fence now about posting “Love is Bright Red, Hope is Dark Blue.” I might still do it, but I don’t know, because I don’t want the six chapters to influence my perception, but OMG I am so mad. I have to laugh because I’ve never been this mad before. And I know eventually it will be okay with the rest of the book, but I cannot deal NOW with what we’ve got. I will not be unbiased, no reader in the world is unbiased when they love a book, but oooo this is a little too much. Like if you’re not deeply enraged are you even a fan? Lol

The only way I deal with emotions is writing because I get really obsessive and I cannot stop thinking about something until I change my mind about it, so I wrote a fic based on those chapters to change my mind. 

So Please don’t read this fic if you haven’t read the 5.5 chapters that were released (legally) to the world yesterday. I do have to say that I wrote this based on Italian translation and not of the one that was translated by someone here in English. But the general concept it the same. 

Summary: Nesta gets threatening (some time after she’s “healed”) 

~

Nesta could tell they were watching her. She supposed it must have seemed off to them that she was sitting in the dining room, reading a newspaper, a toast with jam and cup of tea to the side of her. Too casual, they must have thought. So very much unlike the Nesta they knew.

But one by one they sat—to the side of her of course since she’d chosen the head of the table. Nesta knew of only one other person who would dare sit across from her. She smirked behind the letters, the paper smelling of ink.

First Elain, sweet Elain with her soft, cautious good morning.

Then Feyre with her ruffled hair, matted and imperfect. Nothing like the High Lady she was supposed to be. How embarrassing, she thought, that Feyre had not yet learned that queens were to be perfect in every instance. Every circumstance.

Mor yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. The billowy blonde looked to Feyre as Nesta sipped a bit of tea. Green with a slice of lemon.

Amren was shushed as she came barreling in. Loudly and grumpy. Tired, perhaps, from her days going over the law books of Velaris code.

Rhysand kissed the apple of Feyre’s cheek, her little sister’s skin turning red. A honeyed gesture that made the rest gag mockingly for the way Rhys then bit down on the soft flesh and playfully pulled. He indeed sat where she thought he was going to—the only seat left closest to Feyre. His brows furrowed when he noticed her across from him, but Nesta didn’t give him the light of day.

The game had not begun.

Nesta waited for the missing player, ruffling the newspaper, the sound harsh in this room where all remained quiet. As if they were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

Azriel walked in, sitting to the side of her. He peered up at her. Wary and assessing. What are you up to?

She blinked at him surprised, not at all expecting that he’d be here for this—that he’d come down from the House of Wind to grace them with his presence. No matter. This talk wasn’t particularly for him, but she supposed he’d learn something too. As they all could.

The last one of them arrived with a flourish down the stairs. Bright and loud, stomping on the wood as if soldiers had been set loose in this house and not merely one male who made her smile sweetly despite herself.

He kissed her on the lips, a small peck. Something new for the others to witness. They looked at each other, mirth in their eyes—shock. But not from her happiness, Nesta thought, from their triumph. This broken girl who’d been mended when her heart was full.

“Sit down,” Nesta commanded softly, pointing her chin to the seat beside her—across from Azriel. She watched him look towards his brother, but Azriel merely shrugged.

“You waited for me?” Cassian laughed, the sound off even to her. His eyes squinting with concern… or was that vigilance she saw?

Oh, how dangerous he must know her to be to look at her like that.

Nesta smiled, her eyes softening. “I’d always for wait for you.”

Cassian lips set into a fine line at the sickly-sweet tone.

“In fact, I couldn’t have done this without you,” she gestured to the room, shrugging at the last moment. A strained laugh on her voice, “Or so they’ll say.”

Nesta set her newspaper down. The paper rumbling. Distantly she could hear the yells of soldiers, the clash of swords calling to her in her memory.

But none of that noise was here. No one said a gods-damned thing.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, surveying them all. She could scent their fear, but Nesta didn’t know who it was coming from as she looked to food in the center. Vibrant jellies, eggs, and bacon. Much more food than any she’d consumed in her months away. She’d been reduced to plain porridge.

“Just say what you need to say, girl,” Amren said, gripping the table with her hands. Small and powerless.

Not as powerful as her anyway.

“You’re right of course, dear friend. I should get on with it as any other.”

Nesta lilted her head in a nod. “Consider this meeting long overdue. It was my fault really, for having been in such a low place. I suppose being constantly faced with death and brutality is a regular occurrence to the fae.”

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, huffing a laugh as Cassian’s gaze went to the skin of her collarbone from where her robe had slipped off from her shoulder. “Or so I’ve been endearingly reminded of for the past four months… It was my bad of course for letting things get too far.”

Nesta leaned forward, laying her head delicately on her hand. “Isn’t that what you said Feyre? I want to get the exact words right.”

But Feyre didn’t speak only stared at her with those blue eyes so much like hers but so different. They were made from different parts she supposed—different parts of their mother. Feyre got the stomach, and Nesta got her cold, melodic heart.

Queen indeed.

“Letting things get too far?” Nesta laughed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “Yes, I suppose that was true… But you know, this amazing thing happened when I was forced to follow this routine of yours. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Over and over until I thought the monotony might kill me itself.”

Nesta smiled brightly to all of them, her eyes rolling over their gazes. Elain didn’t dare look at her. Nesta was not in the mood to comfort. What were older sisters for but to lead by example?

“If the magic and the trauma didn’t do it first,” she added.

 She lowered her voice as if she were about to tell a story, engaging her audience until all they could do was listen.

“And then—like a miracle—Cassian was called to Vallahan and I went with him. Screw the rules, he said…” Nesta patted him in the shoulder. A good little soldier. “So easy for you to say that when the rules were not made for you.”

“You know what I discovered?” She sang.

Nesta waited for an answer, but no one would meet her gaze.

She looked to the one who knew so much about the outside world. The one who could never leave the one inside her head. “What did I discover Mor?”

Mor took a sip of her mimosa, cringing as she swallowed. “People fear you.”

“People fear me,” Nesta said, proudly.

She laughed, shaking her head at these beings in pajamas who thought so highly of themselves.

She lifted a shoulder, “for good reason of course. I certainly convinced the council of Vallahan. I always knew I had this power, but to wield it—to not let it control me but to be controlled—Glorious.”

“And you know what I learned in those two weeks?” Nesta lowered her voice, the words slipping out of her in a sneer. “That I have more power in my little pinky then you have in your entire body. All of you.”

She flipped her hair back, where a stray piece had fallen forward, “I got your little treaty signed of course. That was simple. You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to give up their will when they are pissing their pants. But no matter, all’s fair right?”

“Why are you tell us this?” Rhys asked. “What do you want?”

Her eyes went to his, those violent storms of subdued rage.

Tell me again to sit like a dog High Lord, she whispered into his mind. Rhys sat straight up, Feyre grasping his arm.

Nesta simply picked up her newspaper once more. The image in the center showing a great depiction of Velaris’s royal family.

“You ever make a decision on my behalf again,” her voice turning to soft silk. As sweet as a poison apple, “I will burn this city to the ground.”

Nesta tilted her head up, noting the marbled leaves engrained in the ceiling. The opulence. The fraudulent comfort of a house too large for two.

“I think I’ll start with this estate.”

She tutted. “Paints are usually flammable, aren’t they Feyre?”

She watched her sister swallow, the light of Rhysand’s eyes dimming to a darkness she thought might engulf them all.

Nesta could smell his fear…

She lifted the cup to her lips, “Understood?”

“Duly noted.”

The rest mumbled their assent.

And Nesta turned to the toast at her side, already spread with apricot jam. She picked up the bread and set it on Cassian’s plate. “I quite like these jams. We should get some before we go.”

“Too much sugar,” he replied slowly, as if he was getting used to the switch from her being threatening to caring. “You eat this, and you’ll be tired within the hour.”

Nesta pouted in response, wrinkling her nose, “You know, you really need to lighten up. Maybe you’ve gotten harsher in your old age.”

Cassian gave her a hard look.

“I mean, you’re in your 500s. You can barely keep up with the times,” She teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t keep up… in other areas.”

Cassian scoffed, lifting his lips in an outrageous laugh.

“Wait” Feyre called, holding her hands up in surrender. Nesta turned to her, lifting a curious brow. Her little sister blinked back, unsure if Nesta still wanted to destroy their home.

She would never destroy her little sister’s home...

But then Nesta thought of her shabby apartment laying in rubbles, ready to be rebuilt.

Oh, right.

“Will you continue to be our emissary?”

That was a question Nesta was not expecting…

“Oh, I don’t know,” She flourished. “I suppose we’ll see how it goes.”

She shrugged dramatically, “You follow these rules… and after a couple of months, I’ll re-assess your behavior. We can revisit me working with you all after some time has passed.”

“I don’t see how you’re allowed to do whatever you please, just by being threatening,” Amren noted.

Nesta smiled at the hypocrisy.

“Subsection B, Line 84 says I can,” Nesta sang, “As long as were making up rules.”

~

I’m laughing as I type this. This book is about to be a cathartic experience. It actually did make me feel better to write this. 

I wish someone would release an epub already. Like fuck this shit, we’ve bought three versions, two versions, one versions, multiple versions. There’s only a week left. It hardly matters, release the PDF! The book was supposed to be out last month anyway. I’m not into self-righteousness right now, like the release of books is mostly about money. Sara has earned her part. I’m sure she’s happy. These are the people who hardly cared about promoting it at all. I think they threw this book out the window a long time ago and you know what they saved money on promotions too. They’ll be fine. 

I’m clearly displacing my anger... But I cant handle this anymore... But I cant stay away. 

[hargrove-mayfields]

Memories Are Golden

The prom of ‘85 was just one week away. If you asked Steve how much involvement he would’ve have in the event, not even a month ago he would’ve guessed it to be nothing more than maybe taking a flyer home and immediately throwing it in the trash.

Because he wouldn’t be able to go anyways, him and his date didn’t exactly abide by the administration's rules, or society’s, for that matter, so he didn’t care about the whole thing, until last minute, when Nancy had successfully convinced him to be a part of the prom committee with her.

The conversation had basically been a very lengthy guilt trip, he’s well aware of that, and her whole, ‘best moments of our lives’ speech hadn’t really done much to change his mind either.

In the end, Steve had only decided he was going to do it for three reasons: he’d get extra credit in the teacher in charge of prom, the math teachers, class, he wouldn’t have to go to any of his morning classes, and Robin joined in on Nancy’s bullying him because her and Heather would be apart of the committee too.

So now for the next week leading up to the big day, Steve has to spend his mornings in the gym putting up the decorations for the grand march.

But it isn’t all bad, because their small little task force made up of the other poor souls Nancy had rallied to do this with her is all of his friends, Nancy and Barb and Robin and Heather, with the addition of one very begrudging Billy Hargrove.

The girls were all the type you’d expect to be into this thing, the crafty ones mixed in with popularity, and everyone knew Steve would do anything to show school spirit, especially if Nancy bullied him into it, but nobody actually expected Billy of all people to even show up.

He certainly looked more likely to be the one crashing the prom than hanging up little foil stars on the walls, and anyways, rumor had it he only was on the committee as an alternative to detention for smoking weed under the bleachers.

But Steve knew that had absolutely not happened, for one thing, Billy’s weed stayed tightly locked up in his bedroom, thank you very much, and for another, he was there completely willingly. Steve knew that, because he’d been the one to tell Billy to sign up.

Which, when it really got right down to it, Billy honestly was the only reason Steve was even doing this whole thing. They were used to working in a couple of very limited interactions on the court or in the few classes they shared, but with the prom committee they’d be required to spend at least four hours together every day. It was the golden opportunity, even if that wasn’t the way Nancy intended it.

So maybe Billy does show up a little late every morning on purpose, just to keep up appearances, but he’s got a smile on his face, hidden behind the styrofoam coffee cup he gets from the cafeteria as he seeks out Steve and sits beside him in the bleachers to wait for that days instruction.

“Mornin’ Bill.” Steve mumbles tiredly, used to coming in late every day and getting at least an extra hour of sleep most days.

Billy nods and hums in his throat as his only response, so Steve asks him, “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin’?”

And of course, in true Billy fashion, he flashes Steve his most shit eating grin, and says all nonchalant, “Always do when I wake up alone.”

It’s so cheesy, and very obviously meant to get to him, but Steve can’t help the blush that creeps up his neck. He’s still trying to think up an equally as flustering comeback, when the teacher in charge finally shows up.

She announces that this year’s theme was ‘under the stars’, which Steve thought sounded incredibly tacky, but there was still no way it would be any worse than the godawful ‘hollywood’ theme from the year before. Hawkins High had a reputation for a lot of things, but creativity was not one of them.

They get split up into groups, Nancy and Barb in charge of the promo, the writing up, designing, and printing of the announcements and tickets, and Robin and Heather got the delicate detail work, blowing up balloons, laying down the artificial grass squares and hanging or putting in place whatever the other groups made them.

Billy and Steve, on the other hand, were stuck with all the dirty work, the manly jobs. They’re the ones who have to paint the banner that’s going to go over the door, and carry anything that’s considered too heavy and hang anything too high (even though Barb really isn’t that much shorter than them), and set up the tents and string the electricity to the lights in the fake lamp posts.

Quite frankly, Steve doesn’t think it’s fair that they have double the workload as the girls, most of the week had been dedicated to their work, but he just can’t bring himself to complain about getting to watch Billy working every morning, still barely awake yet, his hair pulled up so it didn’t get paint or that much glitter in it.

~~~~~~~~

On their last day in the gym, all that’s left is to sort out a few last minute details, the final squares of fake grass are laid out, lights are tested and glitter is spread out on everything. It doesn’t take too awful long, so they end up with just under three hours leftover to kill.

What they’re supposed to do is report back to their morning classes and try to catch up on all the work they’ve been missing out on for the entire week, but Billy isn’t looking to worry about a bunch of school work, so he tries to convince the rest to skip those last few hours with him.

From Barb and Nancy he gets an instant no, which, he was honestly expecting that. They’re responsible girls, and he can’t blame them for giving two shits about their education. The fact of the matter is though, that he doesn’t.

What he isn’t expecting as much is for his best friend to tell him no, but Heather’s too excited about her senior prom to get in trouble the day before it, and he can respect that.

He already knows that if Heather’s not going, Robin’s not either, so he waves her off before she even bothers trying to explain herself.

That just leaves Steve, and lord knows Billy’s been a bad enough influence on him that he doesn’t even have to ask if he’s ditching, so when Mrs Mitchell and the girls leave, they follow behind until they’re out in the hallway, then duck out of the back entrance of the gym.

Most of the time when people skip they just go home considering the lack of literally anything at all to do around Hawkins, but with Steve’s house too far away for it to be worth leaving, and Billy’s stepmom still at home, that sort of wasn’t an option for them.

Usually they don’t skip for those very reasons, but today they have a handwritten excuse to be out of their classes until exactly 12:15, so in a way, it isn’t so much like skipping as it is just using their free time wisely. Or at least, that’s how Steve rationalizes it, earning from Billy, who thought it was sweet that his former bad boy felt it necessary to make excuses for skipping, a chuckle and a warm smile.

They decide to just hang out on the school grounds, nowhere in town to go but the diner and the stores downtown, and they weren’t in the mood for food nor did they have enough money to blow buying stupid shit they didn’t need, so smoking and sneaking kisses by the tree line on the practice field it was.

It’s nice, but Billy doesn’t like the quiet, furrowed brow as he plucks blades of just growing grass trying to think of something to say that would break the silence. Steve just waits patiently with a lit cigarette burning out between his fingers for Billy to speak, listening intently when he finally says, “You know, s’a shame that I can’t take you to the prom after all that work we did for it.”

“Nah, prom’s way overrated.” Steve blows him off, not wanting him to feel bad about it, personally viewing the dance as stupid anyways, in a way sort of glad he doesn’t have to go, “It’s just a way to pay for new football uniforms and make kids who piqued in highschool feel good about themselves.”

But Billy doesn’t even laugh at that, flicking the head off a dandelion to keep his hands busy as he basically mumbles, “Guess you had time to think ‘bout it already.”

“Yeah. I guess I just always thought dances were kind of dumb. Now that I’m not King Steve anymore I just don’t really see a reason to bother with ‘em.” Steve explains, sliding his hand over to Billy’s across the tips of cool blades of grass, linking their pinkies together and leaning his head against his shoulder, soft touches like these the only way Billy could tell the difference between an open conversation and an argument.

“Still, think it’d be nice to be able to show you off. Let ‘em know what they’ve been missing.” Billy admits, a shy crack of a smile, like he was afraid to bring it up, and it makes Steve smile back, looking straight into the vulnerability behind his blue eyes and saying so softly it’s almost a whisper, “S’not necessary, B. I’m all yours.”

Billy pulls his hand away, a flush on his cheeks that wasn’t just from the warmth of the sun, overwhelmed by the affection just a bit, not uncomfortable with it, just not used to it, and bumps his shoulder into Steve’s, telling him, “God, you’re such a sap.”

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to take me to the prom.” Steve says, barely even defensive, making Billy smile again.

There’s a break in the conversation, both of them flustered and thinking about the other, until Steve interrupts the quiet this time, leaning back on his hands in the grass and suggesting, “We could do our own prom though, you know.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, we can’t do the real thing, obviously, but I don’t have any other plans tomorrow. You should drop by.”

“You’re really askin’ me to be your prom date?” Billy smirks, but the vulnerable hope in his eyes gives him away, and makes Steve’s heart flutter, though he replies nonchalant, “Who else? Be there at 8:30?”

“It’s a date. See you then, pretty boy.” Billy says with a smile, leaning in to kiss Steve, but getting interrupted by his watch beeping, their break time almost up already.

Steve chuckles and kisses his nose, and says, “Guess we better get back then.” waiting for Billy to leave first so his boyfriend had a head start to get into the school before him.

Billy throws a wink over his shoulder as he retreats towards the gym doors, and suddenly the weight of what they’d just agreed to settles with Steve.

Maybe this prom thing wasn’t as overrated as he thought, because did he ever feel over the moon right now, blushing like an idiot and just standing there dazedly until he hears the bell ring inside the building.

Apparently it showed too, that butterflies in his stomach feeling he had for the rest of the day, if the fact that Robin pulled him aside in the cafeteria for an emergency meeting about why he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face was any indication.

He told her some lie, something about one of the teachers he got his makeup work off of cutting him some slack, and Robin doesn’t believe that, but she knows it’s none of her business, so she lets him keep smiling.

Still, as much as Steve was looking forward to this, at the end of the day when he waved at Billy from across the parking lot, he got nervous. Like, speeding back home to Loch Nora in under ten minutes on a normally fifteen minute drive nervous.

Because he still has a lot of shit to get done between now and tomorrow night when Billy is supposed to show up.

For one thing, his house is a disaster. He almost never cleans it until it’s too late, half-assing the dishes and overloading the washing machine and hiding things in closets usually the day before his parents were supposed to get back.

Another thing is how should he dress? He had a few fancy suits of his own from outings with his parents and past dances, but he knew Billy wouldn’t. Still, wouldn’t it be rude to underdress just because he assumed Billy would be too poor to clean up?

And what did people even do at prom? Get drunk and have sex? If Billy wanted to do that he would’ve just said so. How was Steve supposed to figure out what else they were going to do? The rest of prom is just bad dancing and even worse food, was that something he was supposed to include?

What if he’d sent the wrong signal in the first place and it wasn’t just going to be them? What if Billy showed up at his door with a bunch of other losers skipping out on prom night and this wasn’t really special at all?

The thing is, he knows he’s being irrational. Billy’s not the type to care about this stuff, and even if he did he wasn’t gonna like, break things off just because their little fake prom in Steve’s living room wasn’t perfect. That’s just ridiculous.

So he tries to redirect that initial panic into productivity. Get at least something planned out and put together before he freaks all the way out and loses his motivation.

He decides to do it in small parts, tonight he’d start with the cleaning and getting everything he already had together, and tomorrow would be for shopping and decorating.

Because he’s got such a scatterbrain, he makes a list of all the things he needed to get done before 8:30 tomorrow night, and already he feels the stress start to dissipate with each thing he gets to check off, the living room cleaned until Ruthie would approve, picking out a nice sweater he’d never worn before, fancy but not too much, and tracking down all the things he already had, a record player, the fancy wine Billy said he liked, and a couple of strings of fairy lights and tinsel.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he goes straight to Melvald’s, with the rest of his checklist to but candles, more decorations, a boutonnière, just to do it, and maybe something other than takeout to eat for once.

He must look as nervous as he feels, dumping his purchases on the counter, because Joyce smiles that understanding smile of hers, and asks him, “Last minute jitters before prom?”

“You could say that.” He responds breathily, trying to return the smile.

“Jonathan and Nancy decided not to go, but it sounds like it’ll be fun.” Joyce says with a nod, and Steve realizes he’s given her the wrong impression, explaining, “Oh, I’m not going to the real thing either, just hanging out with a friend tonight.”

“Well that sounds nice anyways.” She says, as she rings up his stuff remarking, “You must really like this friend to go all out like this.”

“Yeah he’s-“ Steve physically shakes his head, a reminder to stop talking before he gets himself caught, backpedaling with a shaky excuse, “I-I mean, it’s not like it’s a prom date , it’s just, you know, two guys hanging out.“

Joyce puts her hand on his, that same warm smile still on her face, and tells him, looking him right in the eye as if to say, ‘I know, but it’s okay’, “I’m happy for you, Steve. Have fun tonight.”

Steve nods, a flush to his cheeks as he leaves the store with not another word than, “I… Thank you Mrs. Byers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Billy knew absolutely jack and shit about school dances.

The first and only he’d ever been bothered to go to was way back in elementary school, and that didn’t exactly hold a candle to the fucking prom.

It helped some that it wasn’t the real thing, but Steve was talking like it might as well be, and quite frankly, he wanted it to be. This was going to be special goddamnit.

But before he can even think too much about it, he realizes none of that will matter if it turns out he can’t show, so he brings it up with his dad at dinner.

At the table is where he’s least likely to get beat if Neil said no, so that was always the time he chose to ask for things. “I know it’s, uh, kind of last minute ‘cause it’s tomorrow night, but could I go to the prom?”

Neil quirks an eyebrow, seeming mostly uninterested, “With who?”

“Nobody as a date.” Billy explains, using the cover story he’d been coming up with since the minute Steve asked him, or rather in anticipation of, “Heather has a spare ticket ‘cause her actual date ditched her last minute and she asked me if I would go with her.”

Neil nods, seemingly believing him, and asks, “When’s it start?”

“Uh, about 8, I think, so I’ll probably leave at like, 6:30 or so.” Billy throws it out nervously, tapping his fingers against the underside of the table, and freezing when Neil speaks.

But he doesn’t get yelled at, it’s just a simple, calm, “Susan, do we have anything planned that time tomorrow?”

“No, dear. Max is going with her friends at six, but other than that...” Comes her timid response without a hitch, and Billy already knows he’s in the clear before Neil gives his response, still not looking up from the table.

He agrees, but with a few conditions that Billy wouldn’t dare disobey, “If you drop your sister off first, you’ve got yourself a deal. Just don’t come home if you’re drunk, and don’t waste all my damned money on pictures.”

Billy nods, his heart racing in anticipation of something he was pretty sure at this point wasn’t going to happen, though some part of him was still waiting for the slap across the face and a never your mind as he says dutifully, “Yessir. Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Billy starts getting ready six hours early for two reasons: for one thing, the sooner he’s ready, the more time he had away from Neil and to psyche himself up to knock on Steve’s door, and for another, his hair on a normal day takes at least an hour if he doesn’t want it frizzing out or losing it’s curl or getting heavy, and this was his prom, he was willing to spend a whole day on his hair for the sake of looking nice, even if there were no pictures of it.

Of course Max, being the little nuisance she is, follows him to his bedroom when he goes to get ready, holding the door open with her foot so he couldn’t slam it in her face, and earning herself a grumbly, “What do you want, Maxine?”

“I thought you told me you weren’t going to the prom.” She says it like she caught him doing something wrong, as if plans couldn’t change, and it pisses Billy off a little bit.

“I’m not-“ He starts to explain, cutting himself off when somewhere in the house Neil pops the tab on a beer can, a tiny sound Max probably hadn’t even picked up on, but if his father was out and about in the house Billy doesn’t want to admit what he’s going to in front of him. He opens his door wider and ushers his step sister in, immediately shutting it behind her and finishing what he was saying,  “I’m not going to the prom.”

She quirks an eyebrow, through Billy’s eyes maybe looking a bit too much like her step-dad when she does it, “Why’d you tell Neil you were?”

“Crashing the after party. Thought it’d look better if I said I went.” He just shrugs, half assing the lie, and, picking up on that, Max fires back smugly, “You’re lying.”

Billy snaps, no longer looking at her while he starts lining his shit up on his makeshift vanity, getting ready to get ready, “Yeah, I am. But it’s really none of your business, shitbird.”

“Are you going on a date or something?” She looks at him knowingly, if not a little surprised, and asks as it dawns on her, “Oh my god, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Maxine Nicole!” He hisses through his teeth, turning to glare at her and seeing that she’s holding his hair spray that he literally just put out, probably planning on stealing it, “Jesus, give me that.”

She lets him snatch it out of her hands and puts it back in its spot on the vanity she told him didn’t count as a vanity multiple times, rolling her eyes, “Yeesh. I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“If you’re going to tell on me Max, I swear to god-“ He starts, defensive, more vulnerability in his voice than intended, but Max insists honestly, the most not bratty she’s been since she stepped into his room, “I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

Though it doesn’t last very long, her not being a brat, because she immediately cracks a big smile and asks Billy, “Who is he though?”

“Mind your own, Max, Christ.” Billy blows her off, catching glimpse of himself in the mirror and taking note of the barely there flush to his cheeks, pointing to the door and telling his meddling step sister, “Out.”

“Awww, Billy-“ She tries to whine, but he cuts her off, “ No. Out. Of. My. Room.”

But Max offers quickly, like it’ll change his mind, “I’ll do your hair if you let me stay.”

And maybe it doesn’t immediately change his mind, but it does successfully stump him, because he’s asking her, equal parts genuine curiosity and sarcasm, “Why would I let you touch my hair?”

“No reason.” Max says, looking down at his carpet, definitely overplaying the bashfulness in bringing up her answer to appeal to Billy’s emotions, “I just thought, and maybe it’s stupid but like, most guys have their moms to fuss over them for prom, but, you know, you don’t, so I wanted to, I don’t know, be a good sister and do that for you or, whatever.“

Billy sighs, that had been exactly what he was thinking about all night last night, how his momma would be proud of him for finding a way to do this with the person, the boy he loved, and how she could’ve been there to do exactly what Max said, so he agrees, “Alright shitbird, guilt trip successful. You’re not kicked out.”

Max claps her hands together and sits on her brother's bed, getting all of Billy’s wrinkled button ups tossed at her from where they had been previously shoved, unfolded into a dresser drawer, and a command to, “Help me pick a shirt.”

She asks him while she’s unfolding all of his shirts he’d thrown at her and spreading them all out over Billy’s bed, “Are you going to button it.”

“What do you think?”

“Billy. It’s your prom.”

“Fine. One more button.”

“Two?” She tries to bargain, but he shuts it down again, making her giggle when he jokes, his tone level like it's a real threat, “One or I‘m going shirtless.”

“Then I pick.. this blue one.” Max says and puts her hand on a navy blue, quarter sleeve shirt after careful consideration of holding each button up up to Billy and thinking hard about it, but one more once over and she changes her mind, handing Billy a white shirt with snap buttons instead, “No, no, no, wait, this one with full sleeves is better. Yeah, that one for sure.”

“Sleeves it is.” Billy says taking the shirt and hanging it on the door so he’d remember to iron it, crudely shoving the rest of the button ups back into the drawer, and asking Max, “Will I need to wear like, a coat or something?”

She shrugs asking him smugly, “That depends on who it is.”

“Sensitive information.” Billy says immediately, when she looks like she’s going to argue shutting her down before she can say anything, “Which means I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Can I guess?” Max asks, making her case by reasoning with him sweetly, “Please? You wouldn’t be telling me that way.”

He genuinely considers it for a minute, and decides it’s whatever, in his head assuming there was no way Max would be able to figure it out, so he waves his hand with an eye roll, giving her the go ahead to start guessing.

Her first question is, “Okay, okay. Is it.. someone I know?”

“Yep.”

Max furrows her brow, and asks, “Do I like him?” To which Billy shrugs and responds, “Probably.”

“Um, is it…” Max snaps her fingers, an idea coming to her, “Is it Tommy?”

But again she’s shut down, because for somebody she’s supposed to probably like, she sure does a lot of complaining about Tommy, and he calls her on it, “Do you like Tommy?”

Max hums thoughtfully, taking a second guess, “I guess not. Is it Keith?”

Billy shakes his head, giving her the most confused look she’d ever seen on his face as he asks, or basically exclaims, “Who the fuck is Keith ?”

“Well excuuse me for not knowing a lot of guys around here!” Max says, defensive, making Billy roll his eyes again and turn back to digging through his drawers for a decent pair of jeans to wear with a button up, most of them stained and worn.

“Not Tommy, not Keith, who’s left?” She thinks hard then gasps, connecting something in her mind, a devious, knowing little smile on her face, “Is it Steve?”

Billy doesn’t answer her, quite frankly doesn’t know what he should say. It’s his fault, letting her guess between the only three boys his age in town she apparently knew, but now that Max knew who his mystery boyfriend was he wasn’t feeling so hot.

Honestly, some part of him is expecting Neil to come busting through the door any second, like this was some sort of run around way of finding him out, but after a few minutes of her squealing like teenage girls do, he realizes all he has to face is an excited little sister.

He flushes, and asks her over his shoulder, his forcing his tone to sound bored, “Are you done?”

“Yes.” Max says, nodding, but she smiles wide and dissolves into a fit of giggles again, covering her mouth with her hands when Billy crosses his arms, and insists, “Okay, okay, I’m done!”

“Good.” Billy says, but he can’t help cracking a smile. He angles his mirror down towards the floor and sits in front of it, telling his sister lightly to, “Help me with my hair then, shitbird.”

Max sits behind him, and runs her fingers through his hair, “You should’ve put curlers in it or something last night.”

Billy rolls his eyes, realizing as he does so for the dozen things time since Max barged in that she maybe learned that from him, deciding that doesn’t even warrant a response, and hands Max the comb and one of the many cans of hairspray off of his vanity.

She sits up on her knees, and brushes back the hairs just behind his ears that always frizz out and lose their curl, holding them at the back of his hair with a bobby pin, one of the blond ones she bought specifically for him so he could use them without immediately getting caught using ‘girly’ things, but had so far been too scared to anyways.

It looks strange on him, looks more like something Max would wear than him, but honestly he doesn’t hate it, so he lets her keep going, only frowning a little when she adds a pearl adorned hair clip, big enough it looks more like a fancy brooch, to the back of his hair.

She sprays it with so much hairspray it’s tacky, scrunching it up so his curls are tighter, and smoothing the sides so they won’t come unclipped.

When every curl is in its place and approved by Billy, who insists he’s not in the least bit emotional about what Max had said early, that thing about having nobody but her to fuss over him, she hops up, telling him to, “Wait one minute.” while she runs to her room.

She returns with her bulky pink Caboodles box, the one that has all of her mostly unused makeup in it, tapping him on the shoulder and telling him, “Alright, turn towards me.”

Her plan didn’t work though, at least he’s almost positive it was her plan to break down his defenses just so she could use him as her dress up doll anyways, but he isn’t having it, telling her quickly to “Put that shit away, Max.”

“Why? You wear makeup everyday.” Max observes simply, making Billy hiss and tell her to lower her voice, “Yeah, but never the extra strength shit that makes your eyelashes curly and your face pretty. Neil will sniff this out the second I step out of this room.”

Max just shrugs, “Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t see your face. It’s not a big deal.”

“He’ll make it into one.”

“I think your senior prom is an even bigger deal, though.”

Billy sighs, once again losing to her arguing skill, and turning to face her like she told him, “You owe me if I get caught like this.”

Max rolls her eyes and does her magic, each second that passes Billy regretting agreeing to turning the control of his appearance over to his little sister, expecting to come out of this looking like her Diva doll, fidgeting more and more the longer it takes her.

Just before he’s about to panic, Max tells him, “All done.” and lets him look in the mirror.

He blinks repeatedly at his own reflection, surprised to see he didn’t have sparkly eyeshadow up to his eyebrows or rouge on his cheeks, just a tasteful amount of lip gloss and a copper tint to his eyelids, framed by darker than usual eyelashes and the smallest bit of eyeliner.

She gets impatient after a few minutes of Billy not saying anything, and pushes his shoulders to turn him around again to look at her, staring at him until she decides what she thinks is missing.

She hurries to the upright jewelry box in her mother’s room, and brings him back a clip on pearl earring for his right ear, opposite the chain of silver stars she already picked for his left.

“Here, it’ll look better if you have earrings in both ears.” She reaches up, pushing his hair out of the way and clipping the earring on, letting him do the screw on the back himself so she didn’t make it too tight.

Billy lowers his hand and scrunches his nose, leaning in slightly towards the mirror, “They don’t match.”

“It looks nice though. You look really pretty.” She tells him honestly, not realizing the impact the simple compliment, though not so simple for somebody like him, has on her brother until he’s trying to subtly blink away tears behind mascara coated lashes, pretending like that wasn’t the case and telling her, “Whatever, it’s too late to change it now if you want to be on time.”

He does one last once over himself in the mirror, though he knows he’s going to be using his car windows for the same purpose at the last minute, and shoos Max out of his bedroom door, trying to hurry out of the house before Neil can stop him and see him all dolled up.

He’s got one hand around the door knob and his keys through his belt loop when his dad does stop him, his heart just about stopping as Neil calls from the other room, “Do you have flowers for the girl?”

“I have a corsage in the car.” Billy lies, hoping his tone is sure enough for Neil to buy it.

“Good. Just remember what I said, boy.” Neil says, still from the living room, so Billy lets his posture relax a bit and breathes out a quiet sight, saying casually, “Get Max to her friends, don���t spend any money, and don’t come home drunk, I got it, dad.”

“Watch the attitude, William.” Neil says low, the air going still for a minute until he adds, “And have fun tonight.”

“Yessir.” Billy says, ushering Max quickly out the front door, sighing when it closes behind them.

~~~~~~~

Billy drops Max off at the Wheeler’s, just driving around Hawkins until it’s time to show up at Steve’s, making sure to stop past the Holloway’s place just in case Neil went asking around wanting to know if anybody saw his car in the neighborhood.

At 8, he decides he doesn’t want to show up empty handed, buying Steve some flowers like he’d lied and said he had for Heather from Melvald’s, not understanding the knowing look the cashier lady has in her eye when he brings a dinky bouquet of flowers to the checkout counter.

He rings the doorbell at 8:30 on the dot, checking himself out one last time in Steve’s window while he waits, fifty cent roses held behind his back.

On the other side of the door, Steve stands in the dining room, now adorned with cheap party decorations that would’ve made his mother pitch a fit, waiting a whole thirty seconds before he goes to answer it, trying to collect himself first.

Billy smiles wide, and, as cheesy as it was, seeing him standing there all dressed up taking Steve’s breath away and stealing the words right off his tongue, Billy having to invite himself in because Steve was busy catching flies.

He hands him the flowers, nodding towards the silver tinsel wrapped around the banister, the stars hanging in the archway that lead into the living room that were almost identical to the ones they hung from the basketball hoops at school and saying, “Place looks nice.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Steve says, quickly adding, “You know, you look nice too.”

Billy smiles softly, looking at him with that ‘you’re an idiot Steve Harrington’ look he was so used to by now, “C’mon, Stevie, we’ve been dating for four months now, you don’t gotta be all awkward with me still.”

“I’m not, I mean it, you look really good, Billy.” Steve says, smiling now that it’s his turn to fluster Billy.

“Oh by the way, I almost forgot. Got you this just because.” He remembers, handing Billy a box with a floral pin inside, pink roses with lace, and telling him expectantly, “It’s a boutonnière.”

But Billy doesn't open it, just raises an eyebrow and says, “I thought you did corsages for prom?”

“Corsages are for the girls.”

“Ah. Got it.” He says it like he already knew that, like he was hoping maybe Steve didn’t, so Steve offers, not really understanding it, but knowing what he means all the same, “It came as a set, I still have the corsage upstairs, if you want it.”

Billy nods and pins the boutonnière to Steve’s shirt instead, explaining simply, “Just so we match.”

Steve runs upstairs and gets the corsage, giving Billy a minute to actually appreciate just how much went into decorating this place, snickering to himself when he imagines Steve having to stand on a step ladder to put the string lights so high up on the wall.

Steve tosses Billy the box from the top of the steps, letting him open it while he comes back down and ties it around his wrist, having to tie it twice because he put it on the wrong way the first time.

Billy asks him, shaking his wrist to make sure the bow is tight enough, “So what’s our official plan for tonight, Stevie?”

“Honestly I don’t really know. I’m sort of just winging it here, I don’t know what you even do at prom.”

“You never went at all?” Billy asks, surprised miss priss hadn’t dragged him along to their junior prom last year.

“Nope. Like I said, overrated.” Steve confirms, and Billy smiles wide, saying, “I’m sure I got a few ideas in mind then.”

~~~~~~~~

Billy’s idea basically consisted mainly of drinking all that fancy wine Steve had gotten out of the cellar specifically for this, shoving his tongue down Steve’s throat, and complaining about the real prom happening up at the school.

Honestly, Steve suspects things wouldn’t have been so different had they actually gone, but he can tell the fact that they weren’t able to go was still bothering Billy, judging by the sheer number of times he brings it up.

After what must be the tenth time that night Billy brought up Heather and Robin getting to go, Steve asks him, “Do you wish we were there?”

“No, that’s the thing. I couldn’t give a damn less about the whole dance, a thousand times over I’d rather just be here with you.”

“But?”

“But I wish we had the choice to go, you know? It’s just, bugging me that if we had genuinely wanted to go, we couldn’t’ve.” Billy rants, very obviously having been holding this in, “And I keep thinking about all the other gay kids who don’t have a big empty house or a safe place to do what we’re doin’.”

“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal. Prom is pretty much all for the parents anyways, and the way I see it we, and all the other people like us, we’re so used to disappointing them, what’s it matter if we don’t go?”

“Just, I don’t care about the event or whatever, but it feels like we’re missing out on something. Like maybe we should’ve just swallowed our pride and went with Hetty and Robin anyways.”

Steve stands up abruptly, picking up their wine glasses and kicking the coffee table all the way over to the far wall to clear the floor, offering Billy his hand, “I know you feel like you’re robbing me of something by us not going, but we don’t need all of that for this to be good. I meant it when I said that’s superficial to me anyways. We can make it mean something to us.”

Billy looks up at him, still bothered deep down, but out of ways to argue about it, and accepts Steve’s hand, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck when he pulls him close by his waist.

It’s not really a slow dance as much as it is an excuse to just be close to one another, to breathe each other in and sneak kisses and be sappy, but that’s was this whole thing was about. They could’ve just hung out tonight if they wanted, and honestly they probably would’ve anyways, but they called it a prom, put that title to it that made both of their hearts pitapat.

Steve had always heard, even felt it a few times before, that when you were with the person you loved, everyone and everything else would melt away around you until it was just you, but somehow, this was different than that.

Because that would mean there were times when his world didn’t revolve around Billy, and that there was ever a moment when he could focus on anything but the boy he loved, and that just wasn’t true.

This wasn’t performative, wasn’t a relationship formed on the status of being able to show off that they were better for being in love either, this was simply Billy and Steve, dancing in their tennis shoes on Ruthie's carpet, snickering when a particularly sappy song came on the radio, barely able to be separated long enough to turn to side B, falling in love all over again under the stars.

~~~~~~~

When the wine bottles are all empty and the stack of records has been spun through, Steve’s schnockered, and insisting they get a picture, searching the house for an old Polaroid camera and making Billy stand with him in front of the fairy lights strung

They only had three chances to get a good picture, no new packs of film and only a few left in the camera, so Steve took all three.

The first one was upside down and so off center he was hardly in it, Steve being maybe a little more drunk than he thought, and the second Billy closed his eyes because the flash was too bright, but it didn’t matter too much anyways because the film didn’t develop properly and the picture was nothing but reddish-yellow tinted blackness anyways.

The third one by some chance turns out fine, maybe a little blurred because he moved and still not quite centered right, but it’s a picture, something to hold onto the memory of this night forever when the hangover wore off and things got a little blurry, and that was important to the both of them, for different reasons.

As soon as it develops, a little 8 by 10 of Billy kissing his cheek, Steve runs upstairs to hang it on the cork board above his desk before it gets misplaced, dating it and doodling a little heart with a S+B inside it, hiding the picture behind a ribbon for a middle school art contest and a picture of him and his parents.

Billy hooks his chin over his shoulder, his hands traveling a bit lower than Steve’s waist this time as he watches what he’s doing. He hums and asks, when Steve stands up straighter and turns in his arms to face him, “So? What have you got planned for the after prom, Stevie?”

[ggukkiedae]

Dream VS Dream | JENO VS HANNAH

italics are spoken in english :3 purple questions are hannah’s for jeno to answer, orange questions are jeno’s for hannah to answer

“it’s a little hard considering the fact that jeno and i tell each other everything”

jeno, on the other hand, had quickly finished and sat down in their filming area

jeno, on the other hand, had quickly finished and sat down in their filming area

“hannah!” “what?” “hurry uuuup”

jeno bounced his leg while watching her write her questions down. he had a fond smile on his face

“she’s always like this. you should see her when it’s her turn to mc a question and answer portion”

a pen cap came flying towards him which he quickly dodged

“i can hear you, you oversized puppy”

eventually she sat in front of him and they stared at each other for a while in silence before speaking at the same time

“what?”

cue laughter from them before the scene cuts

“hello everyone, this is dream vs dream, jeno vs hannah edition” “yes, watch our friendship fall apart over questions like this is uno” “no english allowed here” “...”

the two played rock paper scissors to decide who’d answer questions first. she puts out scissors while he puts out rock. she groaned

“i hate this, you always win” “that’s because you always put scissors out first! because i won, you have to answer my first question”

the two exchanged their sets of questions and burst into laughter once they both saw the papers on the top of the pack

“yah! this is destiny, lee jeno” “lee haeeun, you are a copycat! we wrote the same question for the first round!”

the two showed off their slips of paper which, sure enough, held the same question. they high fived before hannah calmed herself and answered

“what does jeno mean in chinese characters?”

“what does hannah mean in chinese characters?”

“your name’s meaning in hanja? easy. je for king and no meaning to work hard” “huanuo’s just as easy. lucas hyung wouldn’t stop talking about it back in 2018. hua for flower and nuo meaning to be graceful”

she laughs at jeno doinh and impression if lucas’s voice and face, both quite accurate

they confirmed that their answers were both correct before movin on

how many rings am i wearing?

jeno hid his hands behind his bacm while hannah tried to catch a glimpse. then she smirked

“4. i helped you pick them out when we got here”

jeno’s jaw dropped and eyes widened at the realization which made hannah burst into laughter

“i completely forgot you helped me pick!” “it was pretty easy. our tradition ring, the friendship ring, the one that looks kinda like a rope, and the big one”

jeno face palms, chuckling to himself

“i can’t believe i forgot about that. anyway…”

what’s my favorite song from the hot sauce album?

jeno threw himself back on his chair with a scff

“my youth! the moment yoonmi accidentally played that instead of rainbow when we met with her and our team you would not leave it be until we added it to the album”

he looked at her accusingly meanwhile she was just throwing her head back and laughing

jeno nudged her leg with his foot to bring her attention back to the camera then pointed at the questions she was holding

what time did i set my alarm for?

“is this even a question jeno? 5:20! you always have it for ten minutes before actual wake up time!”

he looked at her approvingly and slightly in shock

“i thought you forgot!” “we room together during dream promotions!” “promotions haven’t started yet!”

she shook her head disapprovingly while jeno laughed at her

“if you get my next question wrong then i’m rooming with jisung when promotions start”

you can hear jisung in the background give a shout of approval making the two 00 liners look at each other and laugh

what time do i sleep recently?

upon jeno’s silence and thinking look, hannah reached forward and hit his arm making him yell out and hold the area she hit

“you know this!” “it’s been a year since we last roomed together! don’t hit me, it’s my birthday” “ever heard of birthday punches?”

she gave him a teasing tight lipped smile jeno reached forward and squished her cheeks in one hand

“stop that. 2. you never sleep later than 2 when there’s promotions”

she nodded at him proudly before swatting his hand away and reading the next question

what’s my favorite ice cream flavor?

“wait, i know this. i bought you this with other ice creams last night” “you better get this right or else all our late night talks while eating ice cream mean nothing” “how am i supposed to know which ice cream you eat?”

he was playfully staring her down while she thought back. she snapped and jumped a bit in her seat

“it’s a haagen-dazs one!” “which one?” “vanil— no, it’s a green one”

jeno clapped his hands excitedly an leaned forward in anticipation

“is it matcha? the green tea?” “took you long enough” “it’s not like you can guess my favorite ice cream flavor”

she rolled her eyes at him but he smirked

“baskin robins’ my mom is an alien. you and haechan get the same flavor every time. this or puss in boots” “...” “i know you, hannah” “damn it, jeno, read the next question”

how much was our tradition ring?

he laughed and gave her a look

“seriously? i paid for them” “but did you look at the price while you paid?” “good point”

he looked at his pinkie then took her pinkie and looked at the two rings side by side

“would you round it to the nearest tens?” “maybe?” “around $140 soooo around ₩155,000”

she patted his head

“nice job. $137, actually” “oh for real? i was guessing?”

they laughed and compared their rings again

“i’ve only taken this off once, you know?” “don’t remind me. i still haven’t recovered from that” “neither have i, jen. neither have i”

what’s something i wish i could go back and change in our friendship?

“honestly, it’s the same for you and me. november 30, right, jen?” “yeah. if i could have talked to you about that sooner then maybe we wouldn’t have fought back then” “i mean, you—”

her voice was bleeped out, and so was jeno’s for the next few exchanges. captions appeared on screen saying “mute for now to keep their privacy”

“glad we think the same thing”

she smiled at him and reached out with one hand, which he took while speaking

“no more secrets, right hannah?” “no more. now read my last question”

what’s my favorite thing about our friendship?

“you utilize my strength” “jeno!” “ow! i was joking!”

she hit his arm which made him laugh and rub it once again

“you like how comfortable we are. if we’re talking about specifics, you like how we can talk to each other” “correct”

she smiled at him and held her hand up for a high five which he gave

“the one person i tell everything” “no, you tell haechan everything” “i don’t technically tell him, he always just knows” “that’s so strange” “it’s the same with you and nana!”

they laughed before counting their questions

“good one, hannah, everything was correct” “looks like we care for each other equally then”

they stood up and dusted their hands off

“happy birthday, jeno. i’ll be sure to reserve yoh the green tea ice cream when we get back to the dorms” “no birthday hug?”

she rolled her eyes but hugged him anyway, kissing the tips of her fingers then patting his cheek with them

“happy, birthday boy?” “yeah”

they turned to the camera, jeno draping an arm around her shoulder

“we don’t have a winner for this round, i guess” “stay tuned for more dream vs dream. next time we do this, i’ll make harder questions that hannah can’t answer”

-end-

[dancingazaleas]

bertholdt hoover | mc donald’s

HELPLPPPP i love he 🥺 i love he so much

sorry if this was trash :-(( i was rlly sleepy when i wrote this. pls enjoy

warnings/notes: cursing, modern au, highschool au, bertholdt, reiner, marcel, and reader are seniors, porco is a junior, reader is marcel’s twin, bert is ambidextrous (my headcanon), hard pining, bert’s a music prodigy, female reader

when you meet him, it was at your house on a friday night.

porco and marcel had decided to have their obnoxious and messy friend group over at the house while your parents were away for the weekend doing god knows what.

you were just annoyed that your mom said their friends could come over.

it wasn’t that they were inheritaly bad people, it was just that they were overly loud and, somehow, always forgot to pick up their shit before they left. you’d always get your ass chewed out by your mom for it too.

you also hated going downstairs whenever they were there. if marcel or porco caught even a glimpse of you, they would pester you to play a round of super smash bros and wii sports with them and the group. whenever the two of them started to pester, usually reiner would join in until you would cave. reiner was annoying when it game to game nights.

so, you sat upstairs in your room trying to go to sleep and drown out their laughter and yelling, but you couldn’t. they were too fucking loud.

you texted both porco and marcel angrily, telling them ‘shut your fucking mouths i cant fucking sleep’. you concluded that they were too distracted to notice your texts when they continued to yell and laugh. you scoffed and decided that you’d just try to scroll through social media and rant to ymir over text.

30 minutes had passed and the group downstairs showed no signs of quieting down and you were starting to get hungry. so with a sigh, you made your way downstairs towards your kitchen with the intention of finding pizza flavored goldfish in mind.

you were glad you weren’t noticed when you passed by the living room, that meant no pizza flavored goldfish. you opened the door to the pantry only to find cereal, protein powder and bars, porco and marcel’s chips, and the food your mom and dad ate.

this meant they had used your food for this get together. you groaned loudly and slammed the door to the pantry shut. the echo of it immediately silenced the large group in the living room, which held your next homicide victims.

you stomped into the room, irritation written all over your face as you looked at your brothers, who were hugging each other in fear.

“first, you ignore my texts asking you to shut your big fucking mouths. then, you decided death when you chose to serve your friends my food.” the two teenage boys nodded wearily.

with a battle scream, you jumped over the coffee table and on top of them on the leather couch, fists swinging. they shrieked in fear, scrambling under your weight to get away as everyone else in the room laughed at the scene.

you sat on porco’s back, the main offender, and held his head up by digging your thumbs into the bones of his eyebrows.

“porco, if you want me off of your’s and marcel’s ass in the next week; you better drive me to fucking mc donald’s, get me food, and pay for it!!! deal?!” you shouted at him, kicking away the hand that was reaching around to shove you away.

he slammed him palm onto the couch two times, “okay, okay!!! deal!! now get your ass off of me!!!”

you let go of his face and got off of him, but not without giving him a hard slap to the side of the head.

reiner hooted and clapped his large hands together, “another wrestling victory for (name)!!!”

everyone laughed a little, and you did a little bow before plopping down next to pieck, a college student you met in junior year while she was a senior who you were actually quite close with.

“how do you always manage to get your ass kicked by (name) everytime we come here,” zeke, another friend you’d met in junior year while he was in his senior year, snickered at the misery of porco.

“ha ha,” porco gave a monotone laugh, “leave me alone old man.”

“porco, where’s my mc donalds,” you sang and watched marcel roll his eyes a little.

“(name), it’s 11 o’clock at night. i’m not going to get you fucking mc donalds,” porco snapped but cowered away when you made the slight movement of getting up onto your feet.

“bertholdt’ll drive ‘em!” reiner piped up and everyone turned to said bert.

you felt yourself getting flustered when you took a look at bertholdt. he was tall and lean guy cowering in the corner of your couch with dark red cheeks as he stared back at you. his hair was a dark brown and he had the prettiest light jade colored eyes with a hooked nose right between them.

“oh...,” you were stunned, which was a uncommon occurrence, and felt like it was just you and him, “yeah... i’m down. i don’t think we’ve met before.”

bertholdt gave a shy nod and stood up for the couch, and you noticed just how tall he was. before you could make a step towards him however, porco jumped to his feet and got between you.

“nope! changed my mind! get in the tr—,” you shoved him back onto the couch next to marcel, who had a small and gentle smile.

“bert’s gonna get some,” pieck teased with a giggle as she poked at your sides from her seat.

you laughed bashfully and slapped her hands away, telling bertholdt that you were ready to leave when he was. pieck seized her attacks when you followed after bertholdt when he made his way to your front door.

“don’t forget to use protection,” annie shouted nonchalantly, the whole room bursting into laughter.

after that, both you and bertholdt hurried to get out of the house and into his car.

which led you to now, sitting in the parking lot of the sketchy and dingy mc donald’s eating and talking.

“wait, so when reiner...,” you chew while laughing, “told you marcel had a twin, you thought it was a prank?”

bertholdt chuckles shyly and nods, “yeah. i just.. i never saw you around cause no one pointed you out when we were at school. reiner would do stuff like that ever since we were kids.”

you shake your head with a smile, “so, why’d you decide to transfer to titan high just a couple weeks ago?”

bertholdt thinks for a second, “better music program. reiner mentioned something about it to me once, so then i did my own research. titan has multiple opportunities for their students to get a chance at getting scholarships to prestigious universities for fine arts by competing. also, all my friends are here.”

your heart swells as the way bertholdt eyes shine as he speaks of the music program, so much that you forget to answer for a second.

“oh! so, what instrument do you play?”

“uhm... i play the cello, violin, viola, double bass,” he pauses, “i’m learning the harp, piano, lyre, and the guitar.”

you gape at him, “so you’re a prodigy?!”

he blushes and gives a small shrug, “i’ve never really considered myself as such... but i guess by definition i am.”

“th-then why the hell are you going to titan high?!”

“i still wanted to be a normal kid. my dad put me in public schools with decent music programs so i could still play. my favorites are the piano and the cello.”

“hold out your hand for a second,” you request, to which he obliges.

you take it into your own hand, eyes scanning over the palm of his massive hand. his fingers are worn and he has a writer’s bump on his middle finger despite it being his left hand. he has a bandaid on his pinky finger and the tips of his fingers are a flushed red as well as his knuckles. his nails are perfectly even and trimmed and you notice a scar on his thenar stretching to his radial longtitude crease. you run the tip of your finger over the scar, ignoring how bertholdt flinches at the contact.

bertholdt’s blushing and he feels like he’s going to pass out on the spot. the only other girls he’s been this close to were pieck, annie and his friend ymir, who all have girlfriends.

but then bertholdt feels the soft skin of your lips gently kissing at the scar on his hand with your eyes closed. his heart races and it feels like it’s beating out of his chest.

bert’s pretty sure he can see black dots in his vision.

you look him in the eyes now, “i know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you’re really beautiful, bert.”

bertholdt flushed cheeks turn pale as he faints.

[themurphyzone]

BatB AU: A Provincial Life

Summary: It’s an ordinary day in ACME Village for Pinky. Until it isn’t. 

AN: This oneshot adapts the opening number ‘Belle’ and village scenes, up until Pinky sets off for the castle in search of his father, which leads into the entry Imprisoned. 

AO3 Link

Pinky scooped a ladleful of oatmeal into a small, earthen bowl, humming dreamily as he added a dash of cinnamon and several apple slices into the mixture. 

Today was a very special day for Papa, and Pinky wanted him to eat a healthy and nutritious meal before he went off to the fair with his invention. It would be a few days of travel, and Papa would need his strength for traveling there and back. 

“Papa, I’m going out!” Pinky called as he carefully pushed a large woven basket of acorns outside. “Your breakfast is on the table, so make sure you eat it all!” 

There was a sputter and cough of machinery and a trail of smoke from the small room that served as a makeshift workshop next to the kitchen, followed by a loud bang. 

“Just getting ‘er warmed up for the final test!” Papa shouted. “C’mon, Madeleine! You may’ve fallen apart for the 264th time, but you can do it!” 

Oh, Pinky had no doubt people were gonna love the woodcutting, ax-wielding, only occasionally threatening to take fingers off machine known as Madeleine. She was definitely gonna win that gorgeous blue ribbon at the fair! And even if she didn’t, they’d love her all the same anyway. 

He opened the door and stepped into the beautiful autumn morning, taking in the cool, fresh air as he carefully maneuvered the basket of acorns into a red wagon. The leaves were varying hues of crimson and gold, dancing along a gentle breeze that ruffled Pinky’s fur. The sun was peeking over the horizon, slowly bathing the world in light as it rose.

Two songbirds flew merrily above him, their sweet morning song filling the air with beautiful music. Pinky reached up, and one of the songbirds briefly landed on his outstretched hand before flying after his partner, leaving a red feather behind. 

“Thanks for the feather!” Pinky shouted to the sky as he tucked the feather behind his ear, where it fit perfectly. 

He picked up the wagon handle and pulled it along, the wheels squeaking along behind him.  

In the meadow beside their quaint little cottage, Pharfignewton chewed placidly on dew-covered grass. She neighed a greeting to Pinky, and Pinky cheerfully waved back. As much as he loved taking the beloved family horse into town for company, she needed her strength to lug Papa, Madeleine, and all their supplies later. So he had to let her rest. 

Reeds and wildflowers of all sorts grew along the banks of the pond that separated the little cottage from the rest of ACME Village. A pair of ducks paddled along in the water, trailed by four adorable, fluffy yellow ducklings. Several tiny turtles sunbathed on an old log, while a large green frog sat on its lily pad and caught insects unlucky enough to stray in the path of a long, sticky tongue. 

Pinky took his time crossing the cobblestone bridge over the pond, watching the wild animals go about their day without hustling, bustling, or rushing from place to place. Their lives were very different from their neighbors, despite living so close together. 

Little animals, little pond, and little humans in their little town. 

Or was everything just bigger than him? He was a mouse after all. It wasn’t hard to be bigger than a mouse, unless one happened to be an insect. 

As Pinky crossed onto the other side, he spotted a smooth, pretty gray stone poking out of the reeds. He plucked it out of the damp soil, cleaning the dirt off with the inside of his apron. 

It would be a perfect stone for his collection. And he didn’t have any that were this smooth. Most of the rocks he picked up were half-crushed or broken from city streets or well-worn paths. He tucked it into a pocket that he’d sewn on himself, because for some odd reason dresses never came with pockets. 

Then he faced the little town, with all its timber and stone buildings lining a narrow cobbled street that quickly filled with half-asleep, half-awake people trying to get an early start on their sales and trades. 

To think he and Papa had lived here for three years. While not the most exciting town in the world, Pinky was just happy they didn’t have to move again. He’d spent too much of his life being bustled from place to place since Mama died. The cottage was the loveliest place they’d ever owned. 

And while the townsfolk had the same ol’ familiar routine every day, Pinky tried to vary his activities. From baking to horseback riding to volunteering for odd jobs around town, or just taking a day off to nap under a tree and roll down the hilly meadows while grass stains formed on his back.  

Just a normal provincial life, yet Pinky often wondered what laid in the big blue yonder. Did the stars and sky look different elsewhere? Do the clouds form big, fluffy, and silly shapes in South America? 

“Bonjour!” a man called out as he threw open his shutters. 

“Good morning, Emile!” Pinky replied as he skipped past his window.  

“Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!” The echoing chant swept across rooftops and streets alike as a new day dawned upon ACME Village. 

Everyone from chimney sweepers to merchants to coachmen responded with vigor and cheer, all of them satisfied with their occupations in life. 

Pinky greeted everyone he passed, though not all returned the gesture. Everyone was staring at the feather tucked behind his ear, the bulge of the stone in his pocket, or the red wagon with the basket he pulled along. He didn’t think he was that strange-looking. 

Unless he had a bit of cabbage stuck in his teeth again. But he flossed really well last night, so he didn’t think that was the case. 

“Marie, hurry up with the baguettes!” the baker shouted as he carried several loaves of bread outside. 

Pinky inhaled deeply. There was nothing quite like the scent and sound of fresh bread. 

“Narrrrrrf! Smells just like heaven, Mr. Baker!” Pinky exclaimed.  

The baker set his tray of bread on a windowsill, tapping his foot as he impatiently waited for Marie. “Morning, Pinky. You off somewhere this morning?” he asked, though he didn’t turn around. 

“Yup! I’m delivering this basket of acorns to Slappy!” Pinky said, pointing to his basket of acorns. “She really likes the acorns near our cottage but doesn’t wanna make the trip herself. She says it’s too far for her aching joints and she can’t take Skippy along because she’s still trying to convince him that we’re not gonna be shot like Bumbie’s mom if we venture into the meadow, and-” 

“Yes, yes, that’s all very nice,” the baker said, half-leaning into the open window. “Marie, I said hurry up with the baguettes! The morning rush is coming soon!”  

“Well, if you’d bought the ingredients from Francois instead of Vincent like I suggested then maybe we wouldn’t be running behind, Pierre! But no, you always act like you know best!” Marie snapped. 

Not wanting to get embroiled in yet another argument between the baker and his wife, Pinky followed the cobblestone path further into town, where the usual market sprung up, full of local farmers, tradesmen, and merchants. 

Villagers bartered and argued and traded like always, and as Pinky stopped to admire a small yellow daisy poking out from the cracks of the street, he could feel eyes follow him closely in that looking-at-you-but-pretending-we’re-not sort of way. 

“There goes the funny mouse again.” 

“Gets distracted by the littlest things, I swear.” 

“Does he even have a useful skill?” 

“Besides being the village idiot? Doubtful.” 

They’d made those comments ever since he and Papa had moved in. Everywhere they went, people asked Pinky for his trade, and Pinky always told them he took care of Papa and worked various odd jobs around the area for money. 

But that wasn’t considered a useful role in society.

He didn’t mind helping Papa though. 

Oh well though. He couldn’t delay getting these acorns to Slappy, so he hauled his wagon alongside a horse-drawn carriage that steadily cut through the crowded streets, clearing Pinky’s path.  

“Bonjour!” the coachman called to a young woman walking down the street. His eyes were trained on the girl rather than the road, and his horse plowed straight into a farmer’s cart, knocking his produce into the road.  

“MY CABBAGES!” the farmer screamed, tearing out his hair as several pigs devoured his vegetables. 

The coachman let out a nervous laugh and flicked the reins, spurring his horse forward and blithely ignoring the despairing farmer’s demands for compensation. 

“I need six eggs!” a woman cried as she tried to hold several fussing babies at once. 

“That’s too expensive!” a man complained to someone selling pottery. “Twenty coins for a pile of cheap clay? Bah!” 

Pinky and the carriage parted ways as the cobblestone street changed to an unpaved dirt path. The gossip and chatter of ACME Village faded to background noise. 

Slappy had made her home in a hollow tree on the outskirts of town, close enough to get supplies but far enough to deter most from knocking on her door. 

Pinky passed by many warning and danger signs that kept most people from bothering the old squirrel. There was a new post up today, right next to Slappy’s front door. 

LAST WARNING 

NO SELLING, NO PREACHING, NO TAX COLLECTING 

KNOCK AT YOUR OWN RISK 

Well, what was life without a little risk? Pinky knocked on the door anyway. 

He was trying to decide if one of the clouds overhead was shaped more like a monkey or a strawberry when a small brown squirrel in a blue nightgown and cap opened the door. Despite the early morning, he was wide awake and hopping in place, his excitement only growing as he spotted the basket of acorns behind Pinky.  

“Morning, Skippy! Got the basket of acorns your aunt wanted!” Pinky exclaimed.

Skippy grinned as he took the basket from the wagon. “Thanks, Pinky! Aunt Slappy will love these!” 

He popped a few acorns into his mouth and loudly crunched the shells. 

“Skippy, what’d I say about answering the door at this godforsaken hour in the morning?” a cranky voice yelled from upstairs.

“It’s just Pinky with the acorns, Aunt Slappy! No door to door salespeople, preachers, or tax collectors in sight!” Skippy shouted. Then he turned back to Pinky and pointed to his ear. “I like your feather, by the way.” 

“Thanks! I like your nightcap!” Pinky said, returning the compliment with his own. 

A few moments later, Slappy joined Pinky and Skippy downstairs. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her long gray tail dragging behind her. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Slappy asked. She tossed several acorns into her mouth and nodded her approval. “Crunchy with a pinch of salt. This is gonna be a good topping for my world-renowned creamed spinach later.” 

“SPEEWWWWWWWWW!” Skippy cried, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

Pinky just smiled politely. Slappy took a lot of pride in her creamed spinach recipe, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying it tasted like soggy socks. 

“Hey, when I was your age, I ate lots of creamed spinach for dinner. And now I have enough muscles to wield a hundred ton mallet,” Slappy retorted. 

“Wow! Was that when dinosaurs roamed the earth?” Skippy asked. 

Slappy gave him a light smack on the back of his head. “Little brat. Go grab a few coins from the bureau in my room. Gotta pay the mouse for lugging this stuff across town.” 

Skippy blew a raspberry at her and ran up the stairs. 

“Your tongue is never gonna go back in your mouth if you keep doing that!” Slappy yelled. 

Funny how the Squirrels were his best neighbors, even though they lived on the opposite side of town. They’d helped out so much when Pinky and Papa first moved into the countryside cottage, from showing them all the best places to buy from and all the best trees to climb. Everyone else usually stared at them strangely for not knowing how to find a shop and moved on with their day. 

Still, Pinky didn’t want to impose on them or anything. Collecting the acorns was no trouble at all. And he knew money could be a little tight in the village at times. 

“You don’t have to pay me,” Pinky said. “Poit. I don’t mind the morning exercise.” 

“You’re walkin’ outta here with those coins whether you like it or not,” Slappy said in a tone that invited no room for argument. “Don’t be one of ‘em honor before reason types. That sorta mindset is nothing but trouble.” 

Slappy’s long tail flicked in irritation, accidentally knocking a framed painting askew on the wall next to her. She sighed and fixed the crooked painting so that it hung straight. “Can never keep this darn thing straight,’ she muttered. 

Pinky had been inside the hollow tree many times, but he’d never seen this painting before. It contained a colorful cast of characters, from a carrot-munching gray rabbit to a crazy black duck to a short gunslinger with an enormous bright red mustache. 

In the painting, a youthful Slappy with a manic grin on her face and giant firecracker in her hand was chasing a bald hunter. Her smile was brighter, and her eyes didn’t seem so world-weary there.

“Like it? Old pals sent it to me two weeks ago,” Slappy asked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “The Looney Tunes Troupe were a rascally bunch, that’s for sure. All the money for a detailed painting, and they can’t afford a better frame. Our shows were legendary back in the day, you know.” 

“Never heard of them,” Pinky admitted. 

“Course ya haven’t,” Slappy sighed. “Your generation doesn’t know good comedy when it hits them in the bum with a mallet. Troupe’s faded into obscurity now, but they’ve never stopped traveling and being annoying yet lovable nuisances to everyone from Albuquerque to Kalamazoo to Timbuktu.” 

Pinky tilted his head. “But you don’t travel anymore.” 

If the Squirrels needed something they couldn’t get in ACME Village, they usually asked Pinky to run the errand for them. 

“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Slappy said. “Sometimes you’re a nomad with total freedom and other times you gotta flee with your nephew to a different country.” 

Before Pinky could ask more questions, Skippy barreled downstairs with as many coins as he could carry. “I didn’t know how much to grab so I just took a handful,” Skippy said, dumping the currency onto a small side table. 

Slappy picked up six coins from the pile and dropped them into a small drawstring bag, then tightened the strings and tossed the bag into Pinky’s wagon. “You can have these. I’ve got plenty more lying around,” she said. 

“If you're sure then,” Pinky said, picking up his wagon handle and turning it around. “Love to stay, but Papa’s leaving for the fair soon and I gotta see him off!” 

“Tell him we said hi!” Skippy shouted, and Pinky saluted back. 

Slappy yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “And I’m hitting the hay again. It’s too damn early, and I’m too tired to censor my swearing in front of kids.” 

o-o-o-o-o  

After his visit to Slappy’s tree, Pinky decided to kill some time at ACME Village’s fountain, where he could enjoy the fine spray of water and run in circles along the stone rim. It was always fun seeing how fast he could go without tipping into the water.

“Sorry!” he shouted as he accidentally trod over freshly washed sheets that a woman had been folding next to the fountain. She made an indignant noise and carried her basket of laundry away, nose high in the air. 

And the whispers started up again. 

“That mouse may be a beauty, but he is way too peculiar for his own good.” 

“You have to wonder if he’s feeling well.” 

“Always a dreamy, far-off look on his face.” 

On his tenth lap around the fountain, a flock of sheep strolled by, guided by a young shepherd from behind. Two fluffy ewes jumped onto the fountain rim next to Pinky and drank the water. Pinky smiled and stroked their soft wool, and the ewes bleated in contentment.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Pinky whispered into their ears. “Don’t go blabbing this to anyone now...but I believe Papa’s a shoo-in for that blue ribbon!” 

One of the ewes turned and nibbled on his ear, and Pinky laughed as her blocky teeth tugged and tickled his fur. He gently pried her jaw open and his ear popped out of her mouth, dripping wet with sheep saliva.

As Pinky prepared to slide off the fountain rim and onto the small bag of money he’d gotten from Slappy, a regal fanfare went off in the distance, thundering hoofbeats growing ever closer. 

A messenger in a white powdered wig blew his coronet and cleared his throat. 

“HEAR YE! HEAR YE! MAKE WAY FOR HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, PRINCE SNOWBALL AND HIS HUNTING PARTY!” 

The messenger’s declaration sent every man, woman, and child running towards the plaza, gathering in front of the entrance of the local tavern, the centerpoint of all social activities in ACME Village. 

The hunting party rode in on their enormous horses, spearheaded by the ruler of the province, Prince Snowball. Though only a small hamster, he was famed by all for his keen mind and ability to get results on whatever he set out to accomplish. 

Though dressed in only a simple red shirt and breeches for hunting, the only signs of his higher status being the golden crown upon his head and the expensive black horse he rode, his presence commanded respect and awe. 

Behind him, a hunting party consisting of the best huntsmen and archers in the land dragged an enormous buck, two wild boars, and several pheasants into view. 

“People of ACME Village, tonight we shall dine on these fine specimens of the animal kingdom!” Snowball announced as everyone bowed in fear of a noble’s anger. “Everyone’s presence is required, for I have a further declaration that shall lift this derelict province out of the ashes and into a glorious future!” 

His pink eyes were sharp, but beneath that layer of intelligence, there was an undertone of something that didn’t feel right. Pinky couldn’t explain it, but he always just had this odd, icky feeling that crawled up his spine whenever he saw Snowball.

The crowd straightened up, cheering and clapping and praising Prince Snowball’s name for bringing them such good fortune with the promise of more to come. 

Pinky’s ear twitched. There was a soft, desperate sound mixed in with the roars of the captivated audience.

And to the left side of the crowd, there was a tiny lamb whose back leg was tangled in a large fishing net. The mother ewe was both nuzzling the lamb in comfort and trying to pull the net off with her teeth, but to no avail. 

The shepherd never noticed his sheep were in trouble, too caught up in hailing Prince Snowball to notice one of his charges was stuck. 

Pinky hopped off the fountain and slowly walked over to the thrashing lamb and his mother, putting his hands up to show them he wasn’t a threat. The lamb bleated in panic, and the mother eyed Pinky warily. 

“May I help? I’m good at untangling stuff,” Pinky asked. He’d gotten a lot of practice when Papa occasionally tangled himself up in threads and wires. 

The ewe regarded him for a long moment, then nuzzled the back of her lamb’s head, letting him bury his head into her wool. The lamb’s trembling stopped, his back leg still. 

It was a sweet gesture, one that seemed so familiar to him, even though his own mother had long passed. He remembered that feeling of warmth and safety from so long ago, the last time he felt like he was truly home. 

Wiping a stray tear from his eye, Pinky untangled the mesh from the lamb’s leg, starting from the top and slowly moving down to the hoof. 

“There you go, baby,” Pinky said once the leg was completely free. The lamb pulled his hoof out of the netting, gave it a good shake, then joyfully pranced and bleated around his mother and Pinky. 

The mother gave Pinky a tiny nod, bleated to her little one, and together they rejoined their flock. The shepherd was still ignoring his flock in favor of Prince Snowball. Pinky couldn’t see him anymore from the ground. 

Pinky picked up his wagon handle, ready to go home and help Papa hitch everything up to Pharfignewton.

Then he felt a pair of fingers pluck the feather he’d lovingly tucked behind his ear. Pinky turned to get his feather back, and jumped when Snowball was just inches from his face. 

“Hello, Pinky,” Snowball said. He smiled, but it was more out of smugness than a real smile. 

Pinky’s ears lowered, but then he remembered his manners. “Bonjour, Prince Snowball. May I have my feather please? A really nice bird gave that to me.” 

Snowball frowned, holding the feather out of Pinky’s reach. The feather crinkled in his tight grip. “How could you possibly need this? It’s hardly good quality for even the cheapest quills.” 

“Poit. It doesn’t need to be a quill to make me happy,” Pinky replied. 

Snowball rolled his eyes, tossing the feather behind him. Pinky tried to grab it, but it was caught on a gust of wind and drifted to the ground. It landed in a mud puddle, soaking the barbs of the feather and staining it brown. 

“Pinky, get your head out of the clouds and pay attention to important matters,” Snowball’s lip curled as he blocked Pinky from retrieving his feather. “Such as showing royals courtesy when they address a peasant like you.”  

“Excuse me, Snowball,” Pinky said politely, going around the hamster to pick up his feather. The damage didn’t look too bad. Still, he tried to be careful when he cleaned it with his apron. 

Snowball crossed his arms, and the town’s whispers started up again. 

How dare he not show proper respect to Snowball, does he fancy himself higher than a prince, why would Snowball pay him any individual attention and not someone more deserving. 

“That’s Prince Snowball to you.” Snowball’s fur bristled for a moment, but he took a deep breath and put his arms around Pinky’s shoulders instead. “The whole town's talking about you and your lack of...purpose. And we can’t have that, you realize. After all, a machine requires all of its cogs and gears to run smoothly, otherwise it won’t work.” 

“Bet his crackpot father would know something about that!” one of Snowball’s men chortled. 

Everyone laughed, even Snowball, who rarely did so. An unfamiliar feeling boiled in Pinky’s stomach. 

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” Pinky snapped. His inventions were amazing and he was going to do well at the fair! They didn’t know how hard Papa worked on his inventions! 

Snowball glared at his men. “Yes, don’t talk about his father that way, you fools!” he hissed like Pinky hadn’t heard him laughing just seconds ago. 

“He’s not a crackpot! His invention’s gonna win the blue ribbon cause it was made with smarts and love, you’ll see!” Pinky declared, just as an explosion went off in the distance. 

And he knew exactly where that explosion had come from. 

“I have to go. Goodbye!” Pinky dragged his wagon behind him, setting off for the cottage he and Papa called home. 

“It’s a pity and a sin, 

He doesn’t quite fit in. 

He really is a funny mouse, 

A beauty but a funny mouse, 

He really is a funny mouse, 

THAT PIN-” 

The sharp, high-pitched crack of a rifle interrupted the village’s song, and everyone ran for cover. 

“WILL YA SHUT UP? SOME OF US ARE TRYIN’ TA SLEEP!” Slappy shouted from her tree, her screech blowing tiles and lumber from the roofs of buildings. 

Just a provincial life in this little town. Pinky ran across the cobblestone bridge, wondering if he truly had the right to ask for something more than that.

o-o-o-o-o

He hurried over to the cellar, where smoke trailed from the gaps of the heavy wooden doors. Pinky opened the entrance, and a smoky cloud blew right in his face. He coughed and waved it away, hiding his nose in his dress as he hurried over to Papa, who’d been thrown onto his back. A pile of broken wooden planks covered him. 

In the corner, Madeleine sputtered, her gears and dials spinning wildly before she finally quieted down, one loose spring sending a gear crashing into a wall. 

“Dagnabbit, Madeleine!” Papa cursed, stumbling as he extracted himself from the pile of wooden planks. Pinky grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, checking him over for any injuries. Luckily, there were no bruises or splinters to be found. “Don’t you stall out on me now!” 

Pinky smiled. Papa’s string of random gibberish and mutterings of smart inventor words he couldn’t understand was something he’d been familiar with from a young age. No matter where they lived, it was just one of those things that came with home. 

Papa huffed, untying his apron with all his tools and tossing it to the ground. “She’ll never work in time for the fair! What was I thinking?” he lamented. “It’s not too late. Maybe I can cobble something else together quickly! Yes, I’ll just take the doowhatzit out of Madeleine, combine it with the kaleidomajiggy from the old washer, and-” 

“You always say that, Papa,” Pinky said, hugging his father around the shoulders. Papa rested his hands over Pinky’s with a sigh. “Don’t worry. I believe Madeleine will work, and she’ll win you that blue ribbon and help you become an inventor for the history books! Narf! Just like Benjamin Franklin, ‘cept without all the kite-flying.” 

“You really think so?” Papa asked, his frown turning to a hopeful smile. 

“Course I do,” Pinky grinned. 

A determined look crossed Papa’s face, and he tied his apron around his waist, nearly tripping over it in the process.

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s fix ‘er up!” Papa said, laying down on a flat, low cart and pushing himself under the broken stove that made up Madeleine’s main body. “So how was your morning in town?” 

“A little birdie gave me a feather. I found a pretty stone by the pond. And I delivered the acorns to the Squirrels. Did you know Slappy used to be a part of a traveling troupe? I didn’t.” Pinky recanted his morning to Papa as tools clinked and scratched against metal. “Oh, and I guess you’ll be missing Prince Snowball’s feast tonight. They’ll have venison and wild boar there.” 

“A feast? That sounds nice. Much better than inn food,” Papa mused. As usual, only part of what Pinky said ever registered with him. “Are you going?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Pinky admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a good party...but Prince Snowball is-um, what’s a good word for him?” 

“Rich? Smart? Confident?” Papa suggested. “He’s been talkin’ to you a lot lately.” 

So everyone’s noticed, even Papa who spent much of his time in the cellar that doubled as a workshop. 

“He has,” Pinky agreed. “And he says he can give me a purpose. But...I don’t know. I don’t think he’s right for me. Maybe I’m just as odd as they say I am.” 

It was the same everywhere they settled. No matter what Pinky tried to do, the whispers always followed him. He noticed strange things, he wore strange clothes, he and Papa were always strangers in towns where everyone knew each other from birth. 

Papa slid out from under Madeleine, wearing a silly helmet on his head that gave him huge, bug-like eyes. 

“My son is odd?” Papa asked in disbelief, and Pinky laughed. The helmet always made Papa look silly. “Don’t know where these folks get their ideas from…anyway, I think Madeleine’s all ready to go. Care to give her a whirl?”

“Zort! Am I!” Pinky clapped his hands together. Papa pointed to a lever, which Pinky pulled with all his might. 

Madeleine’s bells and whistles sounded, water steadily pumping through her system while steam filled her stove. Pulleys and gears turned along her sides, reaching the front. Her dials quivered until they reached the red zone, and the ax at her front swung down, scoring a deep cut in a block of firewood. The ax swung faster and faster, until one final split the firewood in half and sent one chunk flying. 

Pinky and Papa ducked, and the chunk flew over their heads and landed perfectly on a pile of firewood against the wall. 

“She works!” Pinky shouted in joy, kissing one of Madeleine’s wooden wheels. “You did it, Papa!” 

“I did?” Papa murmured. “I did! 265th time’s the charm, Pinky! Look out fair, I’m on my way!” 

o-o-o-o-o

Within the hour, Madeleine was wheeled out from the workshop, covered and tied up with a tarp, and hitched to Pharfignewton. 

“Bye, Fig,” Pinky said, hugging his beloved horse’s muzzle. “Keep Papa on track to the fair, okay? You know how he likes taking shortcuts.” 

Pharfignewton whinnied gently, planting a sloppy kiss on top of Pinky’s head.

Then Pinky embraced Papa, who returned the hug with the same enthusiasm. And he was reminded of how the mouse and horse he considered his home would be leaving for some time. He wished he could go with them, but someone had to keep house and he was the best one for the job. It wouldn’t be for long, but he’d miss them all the same. 

A stray tear dropped. Just another reason he was considered odd. He cried so easily. 

“Chin up, Pinky,” Papa murmured, rubbing a soothing circle into Pinky’s back. “I’ll win that blue ribbon along with the prize money, and we’ll begin our lives anew within the week.”  

Through his tears, Pinky gave him a wobbly smile. Then he helped Papa onto Pharfignewton’s back. 

“Take care!” Pinky called as Papa flicked the reins, and Pharfignewton trotted off at a steady pace, dragging Madeleine behind her. He watched them from atop the highest hill in the meadow, as they went further down the well-worn trail that merchants used for their travels. 

Then they were nothing but specks in the distance, swallowed by the thick, twisted branches of the forest. It was an unusual forest, one where the trees lost their leaves in early autumn, making the trees look scarier than they actually were for half the year. 

With nothing else to do outside, Pinky went back into the empty cottage. He’d had three years to become familiar with this house, full of odds and ends from Papa’s inventions alongside their meager belongings. 

Mama’s cloak hung from a place of honor on a coat rack by the door, one of the few belongings Pinky could take along no matter where they lived. 

Hours passed, and Pinky already missed the banging and exploding and sputtering of Papa’s inventions. It was just too quiet without them. 

He cleaned the red feather and pretty stone, then added them to his collection. Feathers and rocks didn’t take up a lot of room, and like Mama’s cloak, they could easily be taken to new places as well. He was just very careful not to lose them. 

The wagon was tucked away by the door, and the small bag of money was tucked inside a flower pot. It was how Papa always stored money, and Pinky had picked up the habit. 

There wasn’t much to do. He’d cleaned the cottage several days ago, cellar notwithstanding. That was Papa’s territory, and he always had trouble finding tools when Pinky put them away.

Suppertime approached. 

He could either cook dinner or go to the feast. 

Didn’t matter what he chose. He would be lonely either way. 

A sharp rap on the door startled him out of his thoughts. How strange. People only knocked at this time when there was an emergency. 

“Sorry for taking so long. I wasn’t expecting-” Pinky opened the door, and he immediately stood face-to-face with Prince Snowball. They were so close that their noses nearly touched. “-to see you here, Snowball. Um, this is a surprise. Poit.” 

Snowball’s pink eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Pinky remembered that Snowball preferred to be addressed with his full title. “Yes, it’s not often that someone of my standing chooses to grace a peasant’s home with their presence.”   

Behind Snowball, there was an entourage of townsfolk. Many wore their Sunday best, which was still quite cheap compared to the royal finery that Snowball bore. A fine red coat, a decorative golden cape slung over one shoulder, and white dress pants. A shiny crown embedded with rubies and emeralds sat atop his head. 

“I thought you were all at the tavern for the feast,” Pinky admitted. 

Snowball laughed, but it was a joyless laugh. He stepped across the threshold without being invited in. 

“Why, Pinky. Your hovel is positively primeval,” Snowball said, wrinkling his nose in disdain. He tugged Mama’s cloak off its hook, stared at it for a moment, then carelessly tossed it behind him. “If this is how you live, then it’s a truly auspicious time for me to come and offer you an opportunity out of this squalor.” 

Before Pinky could ask what auspicious was, though he figured it had something to do with Austria, Snowball harshly dug his fingers into Pinky’s shoulders. Pinky tried to pry them off, but the fingers just burrowed further into the fabric of his dress. 

“Not to worry, dear Pinky,” Snowball said. “Today is the day all your dreams come true.” 

“You mean my dream to find a home and a porpoise? Because I don’t know if we have enough money to live by the ocean. Beachside properties get very pricey, you know,” Pinky asked. 

Snowball waved off that concern. “You forget that finances are of no consequence for me. But I digress. For now, allow me to plant the image of a wonderful future in your vacant mind.” 

“Okay, but I don’t know how you’re gonna water it,” Pinky said. 

“Picture this,” Snowball demanded, leading Pinky around the cottage. “A magnificent castle. Two golden thrones, mine higher than the queen’s of course. A few summer homes to expand my sphere of influence. A court of other royals, lesser nobles, while the servants do all the menial work around the fires and kitchen. We’ll have...oh, six or seven.”     

“Servants?” Pinky grinned nervously as Snowball leaned in with a chuckle. 

“Castles, Pinky. How else would I showcase my power?” Snowball corrected. “And the townsfolk shall become our servants. It will save me the trouble of setting up a hiring process anyway. Besides, you’d appreciate having familiar faces around. Less of an adjustment period.” 

Pinky freed himself from Snowball’s grip. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Snowball shrugged. “But in simplest terms, I require a queen. One who is good at smiling, waving, and entertainment.” 

Wouldn’t that person become a princess rather than a queen though? 

Snowball must’ve seen the question coming. He paused in front of the mirror to adjust his crown. 

“There is but one title higher than a prince, Pinky,” Snowball said once he was finished. “In order to qualify for the kingship, it’s required of me to marry first. And do you know who that queen will be?” 

“Elizabeth? Victoria?” Pinky wilted under Snowball’s intense stare. “Um...Cleopatra, final answer?” 

Snowball shook his head. “It will be you, Pinky.” 

A queen? He’d always just been the inventor’s son. An outcast no matter where he lived. How could he possibly be a queen? 

“That’s a very generous offer, Snowball,” Pinky said, once he finally found his words again. 

“Isn’t it, though?” Snowball said smugly. “You and your father will live in an extravagant new home as you perform your queenly duties, and I will be forever hailed as King Snowball. Both of us shall benefit.”

Maybe he and Papa could live in better conditions. Maybe they didn’t have to move around anymore. Maybe they could afford shoes for Pharfignewton. But at the same time…it wouldn’t be right. 

It wouldn’t be home. 

Smiling, waving, entertaining. Was that all he was good for? Was that all Snowball thought he could do? 

“I thought...marriage was for love,” Pinky said softly. “That’s what Papa always said.” 

Snowball rolled his eyes. “It’s a political marriage. It doesn’t have to be built on love.” 

Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

It was one of the earliest morals Pinky had learned. 

Wish for a home, only for it to be a castle. Wish for a purpose, and it’s to be married without love as a foundation. 

“Snowball...I’m speechless,” Pinky said, backing out the front door. He nearly tripped over the welcome mat, but regained his footing. “I...I really don’t know what to say.” 

Not even a narf would help him out of this situation. 

“Say that you’ll marry me, Pinky,” Snowball replied, and he stalked toward Pinky like a cunning predator, backing him against the edge of the porch. “And after you say yes, I will announce our engagement to the rest of ACME Village at the feast. Attendance is mandatory for a reason.” 

“I’m really, really sorry, Snowball,” Pinky said. He’d backed up too far, and the heels of his feet dangled precariously over the edge. Instincts kicking in, Pinky grabbed Snowball’s shoulder to pull himself to safety, though he underestimated his strength. Snowball yelped as he was pulled over the edge, falling into the mud puddle by the staircase. 

Oops.  

“Sorry, Snowball! But I just don’t deserve you,” Pinky admitted. 

The mud-covered crown slipped around Snowball’s head, covering his eyes until he took it off with an annoyed grunt. 

Pinky slipped back into the house, grabbed a small towel, and handed it to one of Snowball’s men. 

Claude, if he remembered right. 

“He can have that one,” Pinky told Claude, who gingerly took the towel like it was a fragile item. 

Snowball crawled out of the mud, his royal clothing covered in gunk and sticks. He stomped out of the mud, hands clenching against his sides. 

Snowball’s brow lowered, his pink eyes hidden in humiliation and a quiet, seething fury. 

Slowly, Pinky retreated into the cottage and hid behind the door. There was something about that look that terrified him. And it wasn’t the fun kind of fear, either. 

“You will consider my offer, Pinky. Make no mistake about that,” Snowball spat, his scrutinizing gaze directly on Pinky, despite the door between them. “Claude, quit being daft and hand me that towel already!” 

Pinky waited in the cottage until he could no longer hear their voices or footsteps. They must’ve gone back to the tavern for the feast. 

He didn’t feel hungry though. Snowball’s proposal left a sour taste in his mouth, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

“He asked me to marry him,” Pinky said to his mother’s cloak, which was still crumpled on the floor. He gently picked it up, brushed off the wrinkles, and put it on. The fabric was warm against his back, like being wrapped in a ginormous embrace. “But he doesn’t love me. Narf! You can’t have a marriage without love!” 

He thought of all the married couples he knew in ACME Village. The baker couple, who were constantly at each other’s throats. Gerard the butcher was always making googly eyes at any woman who bought cuts of meat, much to his wife’s frustration. There was the stressed lady who had to drag her six kids around town while her husband played cards and darts at the tavern.

And Pinky thought of his parents. His mother had fallen in love with his father’s inventive streak when she was the daughter of a town official and Papa was just the crazy mouse whose inventions blew up a lot. 

He tied the cloak tighter around himself. Unable to take the silence of the cottage and the stifling influence of the village much longer, he allowed his feet to carry him out of the cottage and to wherever they wanted to go. 

He sprinted into the unknown. He wouldn’t be afraid of whatever he found there. The autumn wind blew golden, red, and brown leaves in whichever direction it wished as Pinky climbed the highest hill in the gorgeous flower-filled meadow. 

The peak of the hill was his favorite spot, and he was surprised that nobody else came out here to enjoy the view with him. Trees lost their colorful leaves so they could sleep for the winter, the river splashed and babbled along its banks, and proud mountains with mysterious cloud-covered peaks rose high above the landscape.

What laid beyond villages and towns, he didn’t know. 

There was something in that great wide somewhere for him. Just a feeling, an inkling, a hunch. 

But could he truly go exploring it when his home was here? 

Maybe he could convince Papa. Somehow. When Papa came back with the prize money, they could fit Pharfignewton with her shoes and they could all explore together! 

Staring into the autumn landscape, Pinky sank to his knees, careful not to squish the daisies and dandelions around him. 

Maybe that was home, but…

He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. Would he ever figure that out? 

He loved Papa, but he couldn’t really talk to him. And Slappy had her hands full with such an energetic nephew. Pinky didn’t want to impose. Everyone in the village gossiped about him, like he couldn’t understand. 

But he did. 

And it hurt. 

“Would be nice to talk to someone. Anyone, really,” he whispered, and he blew on a cluster of dandelion puffs. His wish scattered along the wind.

Pinky picked up more dandelion puffs. If he blew more around, maybe his wish would come true. And dandelion flowers were very pretty. 

Maybe they were considered weeds, but how could anyone call such a sunshine-y yellow flower a pest? He didn’t get it.

Then a distant, familiar neigh caught him off-guard. 

Pinky thumped his hand against his ear. Maybe he was missing Pharfignewton so much that he heard her voice? 

But he’d recognize her magnificent white coat and spirited blue eyes anywhere. 

“Easy, Pharfignewton! It’s okay!” Pinky cried. He scrambled up Pharfignewton’s leg, avoided her flailing hoof, and held onto her muzzle as she bucked and reared in sheer panic. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay…” 

Pharfignewton quieted down, her frantic neighs melting into soft, worried nickers as Pinky stroked her nose. She stopped kicking, though she was wide-eyed with fear. 

Madeleine wasn’t hitched to Pharfignewton. Nor was she wasn’t the only one missing…

And Pinky suddenly understood his horse’s panic. 

“Pharfignewton, where’s Papa?” Pinky asked. “Is he okay? How did you get separated? Did he try another shortcut when I told him not to do it?”  

Pharfignewton’s hooves shuffled, and Pinky forced himself to take a deep breath. He was scaring her with all these questions, so he nuzzled her between the eyes in apology. Still, his heart raced with panic. 

From the top of the hill, he saw thick, gray clouds rolling in from the mountains. The temperature was dropping fast. 

An early winter would be upon them. They had to find Papa quickly. 

“Please, Pharfignewton. We’ve gotta find him,” Pinky pleaded. 

She whinnied in agreement, and galloped into the strange forest with all its dangerous, twisted branches before Pinky had a chance to settle in his usual spot at the base of her neck. 

Don’t worry, Papa. I’m on my way. 

End AN: Well, this is beast is complete (no pun intended). 

Yeah, poor Pinky’s usual charm doesn’t really work here. Poor mouse. 

Slappy is fun to write, not gonna lie. Love her cartoony antics. She’s also led quite the interesting life in this AU. 

The reason Snowball didn’t show up sooner was because I wasn’t sure how to tweak the proposal scene to fit. Cause for one thing, Snowball is way smarter than Gaston, but just as arrogant to boot. So I changed Snowball’s motivation into marrying Pinky because it will help him gain a higher title than a prince. He doesn’t actually love Pinky in this AU, but he’s very annoyed at him for that stunt with the mud puddle (though it’s accidental on Pinky’s part rather than intentional like Belle’s). 

The reason Snowball doesn’t go seeking a princess’s hand to gain the kingship is cause he tried that already. It was Billie of a nearby kingdom. It didn’t go well. 

Also yes the village is named ACME Village because I’m lazy and can’t come up with anything better. 

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hello! For requests was thinking one about Diego Hargreaves. Maybe one where he left because he thought Patch understood him better than the reader but it was just avoiding feelings, then running into the reader and finding out they have a daughter with him named Eva (I like the name what can I say) and they reconnect when he figures out he was never once happy without her, and does what he can to win her back? Bonus points for happy ending 💕

A/N: Hi lovely! Thanks for this prompt. I went a little bit of a different direction, but I hope, if nothing else, I captured the feelings you were looking for. Enjoy :) Word Count: 1811

“Y/N?” a familiar voice shouted.

You flinched, and considered running, considered pretending you hadn’t heard him, considered pretending to be someone else and not you as he thought you were. And then he was standing there in front of you, a hand not quite resting on your forearm, and the only thing you were considering was how little Diego Hargreeves had changed in the four and a half years since you’d seen him last.

“I th-thought that was you,” a soft smile spread across his face. “It’s been a long time. H-how’ve you been?”

You pretended not to notice the slight stutter in his voice, an obvious sign he was more nervous than he showed. You forced a smile onto your face.

“I’ve been fine...and you look…good…” you tried to keep your voice from cracking.

“I thought you’d left the city?”

“Yeah, I did. But then my family needed me so I came back,” you shrugged. “I probably won’t stay but…it is kind of nice to visit the old places again.”

He looked like he was about to say more when you were both interrupted by the slamming of a door and a tiny hand wrapping around yours with a tug.

“Mommy,” the little girl whined. “Why are you so sloooow? I’m hungry and Grandad says we can’t eat til you come back.”

You knelt to put yourself at eye level with your daughter. “I promise, baby, Mommy will be in in two minutes.” You held out a pinky to her. “Pinky swear.”

She wrapped her finger around yours and shook your hand sharply before running back off inside. You stood, dusting off your knees as you turned back to Diego. Only he wasn’t there anymore. You glanced around, but he seemed to have disappeared without a trace. With a sigh, you headed in to join the rest of your family for lunch, heart aching and mind unsure.

~

You answered the knock cautiously, peering around the half-opened door to examine the figure on the porch, the heavy flashlight which you had used to find your way down the stairs still gripped tightly in your hand.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” you snapped, even as you stood aside to let Diego into the house.

“I needed to see you, to talk to you. But something, you know, came up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You took in his black attire and the harness of knives and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, ‘something’ used to come up a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

“Keep your voice down, or are you trying to wake the whole household? I’m sure my father would love you turning up at his house late at night again.” You couldn’t keep the light chuckle from your voice at the memories as you motioned him into the living room so you both could sit.

“Y/N, you look good,” he said, facing you on the sofa.

You nodded, acknowledging the awkward attempt at small-talk, trying not to let it hurt you. There was a time that Diego looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and now the two of you seemed to be struggling to look at each other at all.

“About earlier, the…little girl…your…”

“My daughter? Her name is Eva.”

“Is sh-she m…” he pressed his lips together, shaking almost unnoticeably, except that you still knew him well enough to recognize all of the signs of his frustration and fear. “Is she m-m-m-mine?”

“Yes, she’s yours Diego. As if that wasn’t obvious by looking at her,” you smiled fondly, thinking of your baby girl upstairs asleep. “She has your eyes.”

“Why did you go without telling me?”

“I had already left, by the time I found out,” you sighed, looking away from his big, sad eyes. “I figured coming back just long enough to tell you, or writing you a letter or something, would only hurt us both.”

“What do you mean just long enough to tell me? If I had known—”

“Don’t, Diego,” you said, holding up a hand and cutting him off. “Back then, I would have been willing to believe that. I gave you everything I had and would have kept giving it. You made it clear that you had made your choice, and it was Patch, not me. I wanted you to be happy, and I like Patch, she’s great. So I let you go and I left, and found my happiness elsewhere. I don’t regret that, but it was your decision.”

“I know. But Y/N. I screwed up. And not just because you have a kid…we have a kid…together. I loved Eudora, but it turns out she was a better friend than a girlfriend, and we were miserable in a relationship.”

“I’m not your second choice because things didn’t work out with her. Or your obligation because of Eva.”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, reaching out to take your hand, and against your instincts, you let him. “That’s not at all what I’m trying to say.”

“Listen, Diego. I’m too tired to have this fight, conversation, whatever, right now. And Eva has an intake session at one of the preschools in town in…” you leaned back to check the clock behind you. “Five hours. Can we do this another time?”

“I…yeah. Another time, sure.” He hesitated. “Do you want me to go with you? Not as, you know, her father, but to escort you there, make sure everything’s safe?”

“No, I don’t want that. I’m not paranoid like you are, D. It’s a perfectly fine school in a perfectly fine neighborhood surround by other perfectly fine neighborhoods. We don’t need a security detail.”

He nodded. “Alright. Goodnight then, Y/N.”

Acting on old muscle memory, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek before turning and, with silent grace, exiting through your parents’ front door, a soft click the only sound of his retreat. You sat there on the couch, fingers pressed to the spot where his lips had been, for a long time, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard birds chirping outside that you stirred, groaning at the stiff soreness in your limbs as you stood.

~

You tried to forget the late night conversation as you carried on with your day, and then with your week as you didn’t hear from him again. But the more you tried, the more you found your mind wandering to him, wondering what he was doing and if he was safe (even though you knew he hadn’t given up being a vigilante and therefore probably wasn’t). You also found yourself frequently distracted with memories of the past, and musings on what might have been, and on more than one occasion, such things made you have to hastily swipe away tears before any of the other moms at the playground, or more importantly Eva, noticed.

It was nearly two weeks before you saw Diego again. He showed up at your parents’ door one morning when you were on your way to work, sleeping in just a little bit because your daughter had the day off from school and you didn’t need to drop her off.

“I was wondering when you would come out,” he said casually from his position lying on the porch.

“Diego,” you greeted him with a sigh. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. We need to talk Y/N.”

“I have to get to work.”

“I’ll drive you, after. Just, please, give me five minutes.”

You unsubtly checked your watch. You had plenty of time to comply with his request and still make it in on time, especially if you accepted his offer and took a car. Wordlessly, you sat on the stoop beside him, and he sat up so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Y/N,” he fidgeted as he searched for the words he wanted to say. “I miss you.”

“Diego…” you closed your eyes, feeling his words cut through you and knowing that if you looked at him, it would be enough to break your resolve.

“I mean it, Y/N. After you left, I felt…like something was missing, like I wasn’t whole. I just…went through the motions without you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What?”

“Blaming me for the fact that you weren’t satisfied or whatever in your life. I left because I needed a fresh start, somewhere without vigilante ex-boyfriends, without all those memories of us.” You shrugged. “I had to strike out and learn to take care of myself. But you could have done it too. You stayed and you got together with Patch and flunked out of the police academy and whatever else you did in the past five years. That was all you; it had nothing to do with me.”

“I’m not trying to blame you, Y/N. God, I’m just saying that I realized, too late, that you’re the only one for me, and I need you. I love you. Then…and now.”

You were silent for a long time. Probably long enough that his asked for five minutes had passed.

“You don’t have to say all this shit to try and convince me to take you back in order to be a part of Eva’s life, if that’s what this is…” you said eventually, voice soft and sad.

“I want to be part of both your lives.”

You pressed your thumb and forefinger to you temples, pinching and rubbing in gentle circles as you tried to think and keep yourself calm when all you wanted to do was scream.

“What do I have to do to convince you, Y/N?”

“I…I don’t know. I want to believe you Diego, because if I’m being honest, it broke my heart to leave you behind, and I never actually stopped loving you. But…” you swiped furiously at a tear that managed to escape.

“I know. I’m s-s-sorry.”

“Oh Diego,” you gently reached over to take his hand. “You don’t have to be nervous around me, and you don’t have to apologize for something that makes you happy, or made you happy at the time. That’s not what I’m trying to get at at all. I just…I don’t know where we go from here. We’re not the kids we used to be.”

“I understand,” he said, rotating his hand to squeeze your fingers in his. “Can we at least try?”

You felt yourself nodding before you had even considered it, your heart certain even when your head was not.  

“If you come back around seven,” you said, a soft smile gracing your face which he privately thought might be the most beautiful sight in the world, “maybe you can take your daughter and I to dinner.”

[baroquebucky]

an angsty oneshot where one of your guy friends is mean towards boyfriend!bucky whenever you're not around and when bucky finally confesses to you you don't believe him and side with your guy friend pretty please 🌝🌝

A/N: hey guys so i have been very unproductive so i figured I’d start writing again ! Send in bucky requests !!!! i don’t have any marvel requests rn and it makes me SAD pls send them I’ll do them i pinky swear <3333333 hope u enjoy :~)

masterlist

Your alarm went off and you reluctantly got out of bed, stretching and yawning to wake yourself up. You looked at the empty spot beside you and slightly frowned, even though it was Saturday, Bucky always went for his early runs.

You made your way to the restroom to start your morning routine, greeting Alpine on your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast, debating if you should make some for bucky or if he would be home for much longer.

You grabbed your phone and called him, hearing a very out of breath super soldier on the other end of the line.

“good morning sleeping beauty” he spoke, a smile on his face as he heard you yawn.

“good morning bucket, how much longer until you get home? I’m making some breakfast so should i make you some right now or are you gonna make it yourself later” you questioned, getting some eggs out and turning on the stove.

“I’ll be there in like 5 minutes honey” he replied, turning to head back home. You smiled at his reply, “okay hurry so you can shiwer before it gets cold” you spoke, already knowing he was rolling his eyes at you.

“it’s not my fault you cat handle how sweaty i get” you scrunched you’re nose up, “you’re gross, hurry home and be safe, i love you” you smiled as you spoke.

“i love you t-”

“oh before i forget Henry is coming over for diner today! He’s in the area so i invited him over, i hope you don’t mind” you interrupted him and he stopped in his tracks, feeling his stomach drop.

“yeah ‘s fine i guess” he grumbled.

“I love you, it’s been four minutes you better hurry or else I’m eating your grilled cheese” you teased and he laughed. You hung up and finished making four grilled cheese sandwiches, putting two on your plate and two on Bucky’s, along with some scrambled eggs.

As if on cue bucky walked through the door, struggling with the lock like he did everyday.

“hi sweetheart” he smiled at you, giving you a small kiss on your cheek.

“hey buck, go shower you smell so bad oh my god” you told him, gagging away from him and he rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around you and hold you close.

“James you let me go right now or so help me god I’ll cook for only me and alpine and you’ll be stuck with a stomach ache from you terrible eggs” you threatened, causing him to let you go after a couple of seconds.

“jeez i can’t even love my own girlfriend anymore” he scoffed and you slapped his arm.

“go shower!” You told him and he quickly patted alpine before getting a change of clothes and quickly showering while you set the plates on the table and grabbed alpines bowl to place his food in.

You sat down at the table, pulling your phone out to pass some time as you waited for bucky to finish showering, Alpine was already munching on his food.

You heard the sound of the shower stop and after five more minutes bucky came out smelling fresh and looking even better. You smiled at him as he sat next to you and gave you a small kiss.

“So why are you upset that Henry is coming?” You asked between bites, smiling to yourself when he almost choked on the sandwich.

“‘M not i don’t know what you mean, he’s great, he’s your best friend who totally respects me and is amazing” he rambled, slightly clenching his fist, causing his arm to make a small whirring sound and squishing the grilled cheese you had made him.

“buck, you obviously don’t like him, look at how you’re acting” you spoke, wiping your hands on a napkin and shifting your body to look at him directly. “what’s wrong?” Bucky looked at you, seeing the sincerity in your eyes melted his heart and he broke from the brave face he was putting on.

“he’s just mean to me” he mumbled, looking down as as munched on the sandwich in his hands, quickly finishing it so he wouldn’t have to talk.

“bucky” you spoke, a smile on your face as you held back a small chuckle, “seriously why don’t you like him?” He looked at you, his blue eyes soft, confused as to why you didn’t believe him.

“wait- oh, you’re like actually like deadass- like serious serious” you felt guilt set in as your boyfriend shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under your gaze all of a sudden.

“well yeah he always tells me I’m not good enough and he brings up my past and he’s really mean” he explained to you, angry that he sounded like a fucking toddler describing his bully from recess.

“Bucky please, Henry is A- an angel and B- literally like 5’9 youre 6’0 you could easily take him” you scoffed, getting up, not believing your boyfriend was pulling this.

“Y/N im serious i mean sure i could kill him but you wouldn’t be cool with that would you?” He questioned getting up and following you to the kitchen.

You turned on your heel, almost bumping into his chest. “Barnes, please. He’s my best friend and he’s super sweet, maybe it’s you that doesn’t like him, like that one time you almost threatened a guy for ‘checking me out’” you made quotation marks around the phrase as you rolled your eyes and turned to wash your hands.

“Fine. Don’t believe me. Just watch later tonight.” He spoke, suddenly turning cold and heading towards your shared room.

You felt bad, Bucky rarely ever left a conversation like that with you, especially an argument. You turned the faucet off and sighed. Bucky was being dramatic, it wasn’t Henry’s fault, he was so kind and he knew how bucky was. He would never be mean to him. You shook your head and walked towards the room, you needed to put some pants and shoes on so you would go buy some stuff for dinner tonight.

You and Bucky both ignored each other, both of you too stubborn to be the first to break and talk about the previous topic of conversation. As bucky heard the keys jingle and Alpine purr he peeked away from the tv and looking out into the living room.

“where are you going?” He asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

“store, i need to make dinner for my best friend who’s coming over.” You spoke, looking up at your boyfriend and turning around and walking out the door.

As you walked down the aisles wondering what the hell to make you decided to make some chicken Alfredo with penne pasta. You quickly grabbed the ingredients and a few treats for both alpine and your boyfriend and headed home.

“James i got you some snacks if you wanna get them now” you called out, closing the door with your foot and placing all your bags on the kitchen counter, slightly out of breath from carrying all the bags at once.

“i thought you were mad at me” he spoke, walking towards the kitchen and helping you set things up.

“doesn’t mean i don’t you idiot” you kissed him softly and rested your head on his chest, sighing softly.

“listen y/n-” he began before you stopped him, putting a hand up, not moving from his chest though.

“no, I’m sorry for acting the way i did earlier, i shouldn’t have judged you. I mean i knkw Henry isnt mean to you- but i should have at least been more understanding. I’ll make sure to stop him if he crosses the line tonight okay?” You mumbled against his chest. Bucky felt his stomach drop when you refused to believe him, but he simply muttered an “i love you,” kissed the top of your head, and smiled at you as you explained to him what to do.

Time seemed to fly by as the food finished cooking and you went to freshen up before your friend got here, putting on some of your nice casual clothes, it was still on jeans and a t shirt though. Bucky changed into a t shirt shirt and some black pants as well.

You were both cuddling on the couch messing with alpine as the you heard the doorbell ring and you rushed to answer it.

“HENRY!” You squealed loudly, smiling at the man and throwing yourself into his arms for a hug.

“Y/N!” He replied with a smile as he held you tightly, smiling into the embrace. You both pulled away with a smile and you turned to let him in, helping him take his coat off and hanging it on the small rack you had bought because you were tired of shoving stuff into your shared closet.

“hey Henry how are you?” Bucky put on a smile for the man and extended his hand out to him. Henry quickly smiled back and gratefully took his hand, “im good Bucky how are you doing?” Bucky replied with a small good and the two broke apart.

Alpine meowed at your best friend and he lightly let the white cat, turning to face you in the kitchen getting everything down and setting the table.

“Here let me help you!” He spoke, already heading towards the kitchen. You quickly shook your head, putting the plates down on the counter next to you and mixing the pasta one final time.

“no! my guy you’re the guest, go sit down and have some guy talk with Bucky! I can’t imagine how tired you are from hanging out with the guys all the time” you smirked and he let out a laugh. You could only imagine how chaotic life must be for Henry considering he lived with two other guys from your high school days back at home who quite literally define the word chaotic for you.

You cut off any further protests and scooped some food onto all of the plates, making them even, but then adding a little bit more to Buckys plate because you knew he loved this pasta.

As you finished setting the plates down you called both boys over and had them wash their hands before they both dug in.

“y/n this is so good!” Henry spoke, smiling at you as he finished the food.

“hey thanks man! Do you remember when I couldn’t cook literally anything?” You smiled and laughed, remembering all the memories the two of you had shared.

The whole night you and Henry were sharing memories from either high school or college, telling bucky embarrassing stories from your high school days, Bucky felt his chest swell with love for you when he saw the sparkle in your eyes when you tried calming yourself down to finish a funny story.

“Im gonna head to the restroom for a second” you smiled at them and they both nodded at you. As you excused yourself you entered the restroom and quickly pressed your ear to the door, hoping to hear what they were talking about but to no avail.

You quickly flushed the empty toilet, it made enough noise to cover up the sound of the door opening. You quietly listened without being seen in the hall.

“I can’t believe she’s still with you. I mean really, you haven’t shared a single thing all night, I’m sure her back hurts from having to carry this fucking relationship.” Henry scoffed at Bucky.

Bucky was frantic, while yes, he wanted nothing more than to bash this guys head in, he knew you would get mad at him.

“listen i love her and that’s what matters okay? Don’t be a dick” Bucky spoke, his low voice rumbling through the room as Henry chuckled at the man.

“please, as if someone like you could be capable of love? She should’ve stayed with her ex, i told her that dating you would be a mistake. I bet you’re too scared to even touch her with that arm aren’t you? It’s pathetic really.” You stormed out of the restroom, furious with who you thought was your best friend.

“y/n! I was just telling bucky about that time when you tried to set me up with-” you cut him off before he could finish, anger evident on your face.

“Don’t you even dare finish your fucking sentence.” You moved between Henry and Bucky, with your boyfriend behind you as you approached Henry.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t know shit about this relationship, you don’t know anything about who bucky is and it is most definitely not your place to shit talk” you began speaking, shaking from the anger you felt, ready to fight the man who just hours ago you believed was an angel.

“It’s fucking true! He’s not capable of love! He’s a monster and you could do so much better” he rolled his eyes, not taking you seriously.

“oh fuck you” you spat, you pulled your fist back to hit him but you felt buckys hand grab your wrist. You looked back at him confused.

“He’s not worth it doll” he spoke softly and you yanked your arm from his grasp, turning back to Henry.

“Get the fuck out of my house and never talk to me again, if i see you again its on sight, you understand?” You spoke, your voice low and eyes a darker color than usual. Henry only nodded before bolting out door.

After a couple seconds of calming down you turned to bucky, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“oh baby I’m so sorry i didn’t believe you, i always thought he was so great and he was just horrible i don’t get it” you spoke, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend and holding him tightly.

“Sweetheart don’t worry im fine, if anything it taught me to never make you angry, i was scared shitless when you looked back at me” he chuckled and you looked up at him smirking.

“so what you’re telling me is that I’m the scariest avenger, even though I’m not on the team, by default i win because i scared you” you laughed as he looked at you with a confused look before he burst out laughing.

“yes darling of course” he laughed a giant grin on his face.

“cool it barnes or I’ll make you regret it” you spoke looking at him seriously. He quickly stopped laughing and nodded his head before you bursted out laughing.

“oh my gOD! You should’ve seen your face!” You wheezed, making some weird high pitched noise as you breathed in, the occasional snort making its way out.

“okay that’s enough of that cmon let’s go cuddle and watch the office” he smiled at you, picking you up effortlessly and carrying you to your room.

As the two of you changed into your pj’s you cuddled up to his side as you watched show.

“I love you Buchanan” you smiled at him and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you y/n” he smiled at you, eternally grateful that he found someone willing to fight anyone for him.

[thetravelerwrites]

Ichabod (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Human/Male Demon-Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Demon, Fae Content Warnings: Multiple Sclerosis, Muscle Spasms, Temporary Paralysis, Wheelchair, Mobility Aids, Blood, Menstruation, Period, Oral Sex, Oral Sex During Menstruation Words: 4353

Commission by @littlemissmonsterfan​, Ichabod sneaks into the convent after hours to explain himself to Ellis. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“Where’s the doctor?” Liana asked as she returned with the water.

“Oh…” You said, still in a bit of a daze. “He began feeling ill and left.”

“Tch,” Liana tutted. “Well, perhaps it’s for the best. That man gives me the creeps.” She looked at your face closely. “You’re rather pale. Are you alright?” She set the pan down and took your chin. “Did he do something?”

“No, no,” You said weakly. “I’m fine. Honestly, I am a little worried about him. He did seem quite unwell.”

“Well, he’s a doctor,” She said dismissively. “If he is ill, then he knows what to do about it. Now let’s get you into some proper clothing. It’s bound to get colder.”

That night, you had trouble sleeping. The crackling coals in the hearth kept the chill from the room, though your feet and hands never seemed to warm up. You monthly bleeding did indeed begin that day, and the cramping always kept you awake. Ichabod’s medicine helped, but your thoughts were in a roil. All you could think about was what Ichabod had done: the kiss on your ankle. Even now, the skin where his lips had been still tingled.

Why had he done it, and why couldn’t you get it out of your mind? It’s true that no other man had shown you such interest, but then again, you hadn’t met but three men in your entire life. Was he taking advantage of the situation, like the Daughters always insisted he would? Did he actually have feelings for you? Or was it something else? Something you couldn’t even begin to fathom?

As you lay there contemplating, you heard footsteps in the hallway. Wondering who was up this late, you lit your lamp and peered through the darkness at the door. It opened slowly and a pale head peeked inside.

“Ichabod?!” You whispered loudly. “What on earth are you doing here so late? Eldest will have your head on a platter if she finds you here! She already thinks you’re going to spirit me away at the first available opportunity!”

“My apologies, Ellis,” He whispered back. “I…I wanted to offer an explanation for what happened this afternoon. It’s been weighing heavily on my mind and I had to see you to put it right. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“So you broke in?”

“I just scaled the gate. And climbed the wall. And maybe broke a door--it doesn’t matter!” He stepped inside. “Is your leg alright? I fear I may have bitten it accidentally. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Oh, yes, it’s fine,” You said, pulling back your sheets to show him. “It was a tiny cut. It’s practically healed now.”

“Oh, good,” He said, a hand over his heart. He looked genuinely distressed.

“Ichabod…” You began quietly as he shut the door. “Why… why did you do what you did?”

Ichabod sighed. He went and stoked the fire back to life, adding a log or two, then picked up the chair that sat in the corner of the room, placing it in front of you next to the bed and settling himself in it. He avoided your eye.

“Ellis,” He said, clasping his hands between his knees. “I greatly enjoy being a doctor. The opportunity to help people and ease their suffering gives my life purpose and meaning. Having said that, I wish I could say that it’s not in my nature to ever hurt another person, but there are… desires, you might call them… base impulses against which I have always battled. Impulses that are, to be blunt…”

“Not human?” You ventured.

His head shot up and he stared at you in shock. “How did you…”

“I guessed,” You said. “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are.”

“Not around you, at least,” He said, chuckling ruefully.

“Me?” You replied, furrowing your brow. “Why me?”

“Why indeed?” He asked. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been… enthralled. Perhaps it’s because I came to your rescue as if you were a baby bird, or perhaps it’s your perseverance in the face of your condition, I’m not sure. But I do feel a connection to you. I am… enchanted by you.” He looked at you again briefly with an indiscernible expression, and you found your cheeks grow warm. “Unfortunately, I also feel… those desires. Very strongly, I’m afraid.”

You had trouble parsing out what he was trying to say. “You want to… hurt me?”

His face was aghast. “Oh, goodness no! Never! Quite the opposite, in fact,” He averted his gaze again and rubbed his neck. “I want to protect you as much as I am able. You see… I… Oh, I don’t know how to say this…”

“Let’s start here, then,” You said. “What exactly are you?”

He took a deep, deep breath. “I’m not entirely sure. I fairly certain I have some fae and demon blood. Perhaps a little bit of human, too. I think.”

“How old are you?”

“Again, I’m not sure. There’s not much about my past I remember. My first memory is the cage.”

Your heart thumped against your ribs. “Cage?”

“Yes, I was kept as an… attraction… before I could control my…” He swallowed, flicking his eyes up at you and looking away. “My form. I don’t know how old I was at the time, but I don’t think I was fully grown, though I was rather large. I was billed as ‘The Demon Maneater’.” He laughed darkly. “I pulled in quite the crowd.”

“Maneater?” You echoed. “Why that title specifically?”

He scrubbed his face and sighed. “Because of my impulses. I eat normal food, drink water, sleep as humans do, and that’s usually enough to keep me sated. But underneath it, there’s this… thirst. A craving that I couldn’t control as well when I was younger. It led me to a lot of trouble.”

You hesitated before asking. “A thirst for--”

“Blood,” He said sharply. It was probably the first time his voice had ever had an edge to it. He was clasping his hands so tightly that the knuckles were completely bloodless. “The man who… owned me, he kept me starving so that the… bloodlust, I guess, was always strong and hard to control. He fed me on pig’s blood alone. Made a show of it, actually. Charged admission for people to watch me suck it down.” His face had a hard grimace of disgust and loathing on it.

“God, that’s terrible,” You said, clutching your chest. “How did you get away?”

“I got too big for my cage,” He said. “I attacked my captor as he was trying to put me in a new one. It was the first, and only time, I tasted human blood.”

“Besides today,” You reminded him.

He met your gaze and his face fell mournfully. “Yes. Besides today.”

“Why did you do that?” You asked again.

“I don’t know!” His head fell into his hands and he gripped his hair, which was out of its braid and cascading down his shoulders, obscuring his face. It was as disheveled as you’d ever seen him. “I’ve been so careful! I eat so much that I feel sick sometimes. I drink enough water to plant a field every day, just to suppress it. I’ve done everything I can, but today, I was overwhelmed. I don’t know why.”

“Can you… smell blood? Like, do you have the nose of a bloodhound or something?” You asked.

“No, no. That’s not a gift I was born with,” He said.

“That’s odd,” You replied thoughtfully.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, when you said I smelled good earlier,” You said, and he blushed. “To be honest… my monthly bleeding started today. Perhaps you…”

“...oh. Ohhh.” He breathed. “Huh. Honestly, there have been times when some people smelled better to me than others. I just thought it was because they’d used perfumes or oils or some such. Could I have been sensing…?”

“You don’t know?” You asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve spent my whole life suppressing this side of myself. It’s not something I ever wanted to explore.”

“You’ve never told your spouse or sweetheart?” You asked curiously, keeping your face and voice carefully neutral.

He eyed you with a rueful smile. “No spouses. No sweethearts. I’ve had… lovers before, but nothing serious. And I never revealed my true self to them.”

You shifted in bed so that you were sitting on the edge with your feet on the ground and looked him in the eye. “Will you show me?”

His face was all panic and he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he said, “Are you sure you want to see?”

You nodded. “I’m certainly intrigued.”

He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and furrowed his brow in deliberation. “My greatest fear is that seeing my true form will frighten you beyond the capacity for understanding, but at the same time, I want so badly for you to see me as I am. I want you to know me, all of me.”

“Even though you don’t like yourself?”

“One can only hide who they are for so long before it becomes tiresome. I suppose… I’m lonely.”

“Why me?” You asked him again.

“I’ve told you, you’ve charmed me. I am drawn to you in some way that I can’t identify. Your opinion and acceptance means more to me than anyone else’s, and I can’t say why that is.”

“Most might call that love,” You blurted, instantly regretting it.

Except, a gentle smile crept across his face for the first time since he arrived. “Love…” he repeated. “Yes. I believe you may be right.”

Your blush deepened. Was he serious? Could this man possibly love you, or was it just his impulses swaying his emotions? It’s not like you had much experience with the issue, so you could hardly tell.

“Your the first person I’ve ever told. The man who taught me medicine is the only other person who knew. He saved my life, gave me sanctuary, and showed me my purpose. I miss him.” He stood up. “Well… I’ve come halfway already. I suppose stopping now would be pointless.” His sad expression returned. “I just hope, after you’ve seen me, you might at least still consider me a friend.”

He began to change then. With your heart in your throat, you watch as his body stretched and thinned. He towered over you, his waist shrinking to be no thicker than your calf. He grew an extra pinky finger and thumb on each hand, and his ankles pushed backward into digitigrade feet, each with seven toes. His eyes went completely black and swallowed the light. He was more skeletal than lithe now, with bones jutting out all over, and his long hair seemed to be prehensile and moving under its own power. His mouth split his head to each ear, and inside were teeth that were more like jagged pieces of glass jutting out of his black gums. You imagined they had been what nicked your leg earlier.

His clothes had changed with him; his glamour must have also extended to his garments. You suspected he may have made them himself. He was longer, thinner. Sharper. Everything about him was angular and pointed, except the curve of his spine as he hunched over you.

You sat on your cot with your hands in your lap, just looking up at him. He seemed to be leaning away from you slightly, no doubt expecting you to scream or attack. You slowly stood up, blessedly needing no assistance at the moment, and took him in. Slowly, you raised your hand, and he flinched.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” You asked him. He seemed momentarily stunned by the question, but after a moment to recover, he nodded. You reached up and traced the line of his mouth, from one ear to the other, causing him to close his eyes and make a purring sound. You traced his lids, eyebrows, nose, jaw, and down his neck. When you got to his collar, he gingerly stopped your hand by taking it in his.

“You’re not afraid?” He asked wonderingly.

You shook your head. “I knew you weren’t human. Honestly, I was expecting ten arms and a tail with a stinger on the end, at least.” You laughed and stroked his hair, which wrapped itself around your wrist loosely. “Compared to what I was imagining in my head, this is tame.”

His eyes squeezed closed in relief, tears slipping down his face. Halfway down his cheeks, they crystallized and fell to the ground, tinkling like glass beads on the stone floor.

“I knew you were special,” He said. “I knew you were perfect.” He took your hands and pressed them against his nose, inhaling your scent into every corner of his lungs. His hands were shaking.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you? Or thirsty? Or… something?” You asked uncertainly.

He smiled at you gently, brushing your hair away from your eyes. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m more in control right now than I’ve ever been.”

“That’s good, but… um…” You cleared your throat nervously. “I was wondering if maybe I could help you. You’ve done so much for me, I just thought I could do something for you in return.”

He cocked his head in confusion. “What kind of something?”

You took a shaky breath and looked down, using his finger to tap the lower part of your belly. He continued to look confused for another several seconds before his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“Are you… are you serious? Are you sure?” He asked in an awed whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes,I’m sure,” You said. “I want to thank you. After everything you’ve done for me, I can’t help but feel like I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” He said emphatically. “The fact that you can look at my true face and still smile at me is all the thanks I could ever need.”

“I still want to do something for you,” You told him. “I feel stronger than I have in years. The therapy has helped me so much. If you don’t want to think of it as payment, then think of it as a gift.”

Though his eyes were completely black, you could feel the warmth that radiated from them when he smiled. He actually put an arm across his chest and bowed solemnly before you.  

“Then I accept with more gratitude than I can express.”

You smiled and patted his head.

“You’re quivering,” He said, standing back up and taking your hand.

“I must admit, I’m nervous,” You replied. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” You looked up into his eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“No, darling,” He whispered tenderly, bending to nuzzle your cheek. “No pain. In fact, I will do everything I can to ensure you enjoy this as much as I will.”

Your heart rate shot up, but you nodded. “Alright. How do we begin?”

He put his long hands on your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss. He was careful to keep his teeth tucked away so that they wouldn’t cut you. You kissed him back, a thrill in your spine. He carefully lifted your nightgown over your head and placed it on the chair. He knelt down and pulled your stockings and the linen roll you used for your monthly bleeding. Embarrassed, you took it from him and placed it in the washing pan to clean later.

He smiled at your blushing face. “Don’t be ashamed. It’s a natural thing.”

“Oh, I know,” You told him. “The Daughters see it as a gift. I’ve just… never been naked in front of a man before.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re exquisite to the eye,” He said, running his knuckles down your spine, making you shiver. “I could look at you like this and never grow tired of it.”

“Thank you,” You replied in a small voice. “So… what should I do?”

He took your hand and led you to the foot of the bed, urging you to lie down with your legs over the end. He climbed over you, kissing your lips. Your tongue ran over his jagged teeth and you pushed him back a little.

“You’re sure it won’t hurt?” You asked dubiously.

He grinned and opened his mouth, and you watched as the teeth receded into his gums, leaving only soft tissue behind.

“Oh,” You said. You watched as something slithered out and wriggled around. To your surprise, he had not one, but seven black tongues, tentacle-like and writhing.

“Relax,” He said. “I’ll take care of you. Are you still sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “I do.”

He smiled. “Lie down, then. Get comfy.”

You obeyed, not really knowing what to expect. He knelt down in front of you, kissing your thighs as he opened your legs. He pulled you down a little further and, looking down, you saw him close in on your core, his mouth opening wide and suctioning to your lips and clit with a sigh of deep satisfaction. And he began to suck.

You were shocked at the effect the pressure had on you. You’d touched yourself before, but it didn’t feel like this. In addition to the suction, his tongues worked into you and around your pearl, massaging and contracting. Your back arched and you gasped, the muscles in your stomach tightening involuntarily.

Well, he said you’d enjoy it. He wasn’t lying.

You suddenly felt a spasm in your back and cried out. He seemed to realize this wasn’t a sound of pleasure and stopped immediately, licking his chops.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” He asked.

“No,” You said, wincing. “I had a twinge in my back.”

“Just a moment,” He said, standing. As he stood, you saw a bulge in his pants. You pressed your lips together to keep the startled smile off your face. He took your pillow and the extra blankets and tilted you upward, putting them behind your back so that you were sitting up a bit more.

“Where?” He asked, and you showed him. He took a few moments to massage the spot, easing the muscle down and working the twinge out. His extra fingers were magic for your muscles. “Does that help?”

You moaned happily. “Yes, very much. God, I wish I’d let you do the deep tissue massages sooner.”

He laughed. “My hands are yours whenever you want them.”

“I think I’d rather have your mouth at the moment,” You said, and then slapped a hand to your own lips, surprised at your sudden frankness.

His grin was devilish. “As you wish, my darling.” He returned to his previous position and took up his task with relish. You cried out again, but it was clear this time that it was nothing but ecstasy.

One of his hands gripped your thigh, but the other hand slipped up your torso. You bit your lip and smiled as his fingers cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his fingertips. His black eyes watched your every move, every expression, every twitch of your muscles. He watched for pain and pleasure in your face and body, changing the pressure to match. He was good at this.

Before long, you felt it: a wave of bliss that curled your toes and pulled the voice out of you. His hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans as the wave crashed into you. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair, holding him there as you came down. As it ebbed, you took both of his hands and held them over your breasts. He kneaded the flesh back and forth with his long, long fingers as you held his wrists in place. He kept up the pressure, still sucking, and you felt another wave build and crash. And build and crash.

Finally, he pulled away from you with a long, drawn out moan.

“Incredible,” He breathed. “I’ve never felt so satisfied in all my life.” He rose up and examined your face. “Are you alright?”

“I am…” You said in a sleepy voice. “Lovely.”

“You are,” He said, bending to kiss you, but you stopped him.

“Um… maybe wash out your mouth first?” You suggested.

He ducked his head and smiled. “Of course. Forgive me.”

As he went to the pitcher of water on the table, you lay still on the bed, your body warm and tingling. You watched him swish water and a mint sprig around in his mouth several times and spit it into the chamber pot. His pants were still tented, and you bit your lip in curiosity. The feeling of cramps and bloating was completely gone, and once you caught your breath, you were feeling adventurous.

As he returned, you sat up and reached out, palming the bulge and looking up at him. He grunted.

“You… you don’t have to,” He said, though he leaned into your touch.

“I want to,” You said, reaching for the buttons. “I have a lot to learn. I want you to teach me.”

He smiled and caressed your face. “I think I like this bold side of you, darling.”

You chuckled and pulled him out. His cock was pearly and iridescent, as though it was made of frosted glass, though the skin was soft and pliable, and it was warm to the touch. You stroked it slowly, enjoying the weight and smoothness in your hand, before leaning forward and pressing your tongue to the head. He jerked and made a strangled noise. You looked up at him and held his gaze as you pulled the tip into your mouth. He groaned and tangled his fingers in your hair.

“Oh, my love, you learn so fast,” He wheezed. “I may not last long.”

“That’s alright,” You said. I don’t mind.”

Just then, he grunted loudly and released on your chest. You giggled.

“Sorry. Sorry,” He gasped, rushing to get a wet cloth to clean you up with.

“I don’t mind,” You repeated with a laugh.

After wiping you down, he helped you redress and put himself away. He kissed your lips, eyes, cheek, and neck.

“Ellis,” He said, sitting back on his heels and taking your hands. “Are you seriously contemplating becoming a nun, or would you consider another option?”

“What other option?”

“Marry me,” He said seriously, pressing your palms to his chest. “You needn’t… provide for me…” He said, gesturing at your belly. “You needn’t even love me in return. All I want is to come home to someone who accepts me as I am, to talk to someone without having to pretend. If all you have to give me is your time and company, I would consider myself doubly blessed for the rest of my days.”

You smiled at him, a little in shock, but knowing what your answer would be. You bent forward and pressed another kiss to his lips.

“I think I can give you more than that.”

You fell asleep in his arms, and he left before dawn. He told you he had arrangements to make and that by the time he returned for his next appointment, everything would be ready for you. You had a moment of self-doubt that perhaps he was absconding on you, but he seemed to sense your uncertainty and left you his doctor’s coat as collateral.

The Daughters were in an uproar when you told them you were to marry the physician, but there was little they could do to stop you. Even if they tried to lock you up for your own good, you knew they couldn’t stop Ichabod from coming for you.

Ichabod returned precisely when he said he would, having borrowed a cart from a friend to pick up you and your things and take you to his home. When he stepped down and saw you, his expression was so tender and warm, you couldn’t understand how the Daughter’s didn’t see that he was a man in love. It was obvious even to you. Well, you were biased, you supposed.

“Are you ready?” He asked, loading your chair into the cart. “I’ve got the house all fixed up.”

“Fixed up?” You echoed.

“Yes!” He said excitedly. “I made some modifications so that you can move around the house more easily. I put rails on all of the walls and a ramp on the front porch for your chair. The local woodcarvers helped me. They have a shop right next door to us.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did all that for me?”

He nodded shyly. “I want you to be happy and comfortable.”

You wanted to cry. You couldn’t believe how considerate he was. You took his hand, which hand only five fingers now that his glamour was back in place, and kissed the knuckles.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

His smile widened and he kissed your cheek. “Don’t thank me for that. It’s nothing,” He said. “For your acceptance, your understanding, it’s the very least I can do.”

You said goodbye to the Daughters, and Eldest held you for a very long time. You were concerned that she might not let you go. Eventually she released you and fixed a hard glare on Ichabod.

“I expect to hear from her regularly,” Eldest said. “If I go a month without a letter, I’m bringing a mob to your front door and kicking it in.”

“I’ll hold you to that, madam,” Ichabod said pleasantly. “I know you’re worried for this lovely young woman, but you have my word that I will treat her like a queen.”

“You’re word isn’t worth much to me,” Eldest replied harshly. “We’ll be checking in.”

Ichabod bowed to acknowledge the veiled threat. “Always a pleasure, Eldest Daughter. We will visit soon.”

You took Ichabod’s hand, and he helped you up into the driver’s box.

“Ready to go home?” He asked.

You took a moment to look back at the only home you’d known since you were small, then faced forward.

“Yes, love. Let’s go.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[alvacchi]

Phantom Thief Hanako-kun AU Story: Chapter 7- Caring For You

What's this? Yes you've read right. A new chapter's here! Time to go back to the present!

Enjoy!

---

-Let's recap the recent events of chapter 5!

-Hanako and Yashiro were able to spend time to get to know each other more

-Yashiro was busy grocery shopping for donut ingredients until she ran into Tsukasa

-Visiting the very place of the mysterious heist with him, Yashiro discovered a dark secret of Hanako's

-Even more was strikingly revealed with Hanako present

-And now Hanako didn't come by Yashiro's place

-What's going to happen next?!

-It's been a couple days since that time with Tsukasa

-And still no sign of Hanako

-Yashiro sighed as she got ready in her pajamas

-Wasn't it also like this right after the murder?

-Now she kept expecting something at the window

-It's actually been raining heavily lately

-What a great way to match the mood

-Yashiro thought about the donuts that she baked on that same night

-They weren't that fresh anymore after some time

-She was still keeping them in her mini fridge for some reason

-She's going to have to throw them away eventually

-Taking out some seeds for her hamster Black Canyon, she pondered worriedly about Hanako

-Yashiro: "I really hope Hanako-kun is okay, Black Canyon"

-After finishing up her remaining chores, she turned in for the night

-The next rainy day

-Yashiro went to Tsuchigomori's detective agency as usual

-Only today there was quite a ruckus in the office

-The moment Yashiro opened the door

-She immediately knew who was visiting from the loud voice

-"I'M PUTTING MY PRIDE ON THE LINE HERE, EMO SPIDER!"

-Tsuchigomori: "Woman! That's not how you ask!"

-Yashiro: [sweatdrops] "Uhhh good morning, Tsuchigomori-sensei and Police Chief Yako-san?"

-Tsuchigomori: [pointing to Yako with his thumb] "No need to call this fox that anymore. She got demoted after going way out of line."

-Yako: "Argh we don't have to talk about that. That's beside the point! I need your help! None of the other detectives are willing!"

-Tsuchigomori: "Maybe because you're terrifying them and using impolite speech."

-Yako: "Ergh. I'm not that bad, right Yashiro-san?"

-Yashiro: "Uhhh."

-Why drag her into this?

-Tsuchigomori: "By the way, how's the case with Detective Three's murder going?" ((Yako: "You're ignoring me now?!"))

-Oh. That's right.

-Yashiro still hadn't reported to Tsuchigomori about her progress.

-But what the heck was she supposed to say??

-Oh she found another likely suspect who confessed to the murder but he got away and he and Hanako seem to know each other?

-Saying that would complicate matters and get her a possible scolding from Tsuchigomori

-She wished she could hurry up and become a professional already

-Yashiro: "...I haven't really found anything on the case. Nothing worth noting anyways."

-Yashiro didn't want to cause more suffering to Hanako

-She didn't understand his situation but investigating further may harm their relationship, if that wasn't done already

-Tsuchigomori: "I see. Well, for your information, because there's not much to go off of and considering the possibility of framing, the security at the heists would go back to normal. For now, some of the task forces are more needed elsewhere."

-Yashiro felt a bit of relief

-Well that's good, right?

-Yako, who was fussing in the corner during their conversation, went marching over to Yashiro and grabbed her by the shoulders

-Yako: "Yashiro-san, I have no choice but to rely on you!"

-Yashiro: "Huh?! Wha-?"

-Tsuchigomori pinched his nose in annoyance

-Tsuchigomori: "Ugh. Please do not bother my apprentice, Yako-san."

-Yako: "But! Misaki has gone missing and something could have happened to him!"

-Missing? A missing person case?

-Yashiro was intrigued

-Perhaps focusing on another different case would be best for her right now

-Yashiro: "Tsuchigomori-sensei, I would like to take on Yako-san's case! She's still an important client!"

-Tsuchigomori sighed. No point in refuting now he guessed.

-Tsuchigomori: "Alright, fine. You can go ahead."

-Yashiro beamed and thanked him

-And so she started her interrogation with Yako

-Asking questions such as when and where Yako last saw Misaki, what he looked like, what was his occupation, etc.

-Yashiro managed to get a few leads so she planned to investigate the area the next day

-She took on some documents from the office so she could study them up in her apartment

-After some time trying to work through the files, she decided to turn in early so she could get up really early to start investigating

-As she was sleeping, she failed to notice a black Mokke at her window

-The following day, Yashiro got ready to leave her apartment, now on her way over to where Misaki used to be

-She didn't have to go to Tsuchigomori's agency during her investigation

-It was the weekend anyways

-She searched and asked people around the area

-It seemed that Misaki did indeed disappear and not that long ago either

-He wasn't at his job like he was supposed to be nor did anyone know where he could have gone

-Yashiro was stuck

-There weren't that many clues she could look into

-Was this supposed to be helping her mood?

-It's like all the cases she had lately have been hard to resolve

-How frustrating

-Some time passed and it was already late so Yashiro had to go back to her apartment

-She took a long bath to relax and clear her mind

-Then before she knew it, Yashiro was thinking about Hanako again

-Why couldn't she get her mind off of him?!

-It wasn't like Hanako was the reason she became a detective! He's not even her type! She's got other cases too!

-After her bath, she should just go to sleep

-No point in staying up if her thoughts were going to mess with her

-She dried her hair and got into her pajamas

-and then flopped down onto her bed

-.....

-.....Her bed was strangely bulky

-She took off the blanket

-and behold

-Hanako was lying there with his eyes closed

-Yashiro: "HANAKO-KUN?!"

-What the?! When did he get there?!

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun, why are you in my bed?! Are you listening?!"

-Yashiro touched him and she realized his skin felt hot

-She felt his forehead and it was burning

-He was also sweating

-Yep, Hanako's got a fever and he's unconscious

-The bedsheets were also getting soaked

-Oh geez, was he in the rain earlier?!

-He didn't stand in the rain and got sick like that, did he?!

-Yashiro had to take a deep breath to calm down

-Looks like she had an unexpected sick patient on her

-Alright, first things first

-His clothes

-She's got to remove them since they're wet and wouldn't help

-She tried to get him to wake up for this but it wasn't working

-Yashiro gulped

-Okay, this wasn't the first time she took clothes off Hanako

-She had to do that to patch him up when he was bleeding before

-So it did feel like a deja vu moment

-But it was just his shirt she removed that time since that's where the bleeding was

-She didn't even remove his hat or any other as a gesture to keep his identity a secret

-When he was gone the next day, he took his shirt she cleaned with him

-Now he was completely soaked all over

-She started feeling nervous

-It would be normal to feel that way, right?

-Yashiro: 'Sorry Hanako-kun, but I got to do this!'

-She got it done, swapping his clothes with dry ones that would fit him

-Her heart thumping loudly in the process

-It was for his sake! Just trying to help him get better!

-Gosh, why was she feeling this nervous?

-She also had to set him aside for a bit to change the bedsheets

-Since she's done that, she got a better look at his face without his hat

-Yashiro: 'He looks like an innocent boy just sleeping...'

-Next, she's going to have to somehow get him to eat a bit and drink medicine

-She opened her mini fridge

-.....the bowl of donuts was empty

-What?! Did he eat her donuts earlier when she wasn't looking?? And they were about to go bad! Hopefully, he doesn't get a stomach ache from them

-Well, no matter

-She just had to grab medicine now

-Taking the medicine from a cabinet, she went back to Hanako

-To see him awake

-Oh thank goodness she didn't really know how she was going to give it to him

-Though now she's annoyed and feeling embarrassed that she went through the trouble earlier with his clothes

-Why couldn't he have gotten up sooner?!

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun?"

-He turned to her with a dazed look on his face

-Yashiro sat down next to him and she put the medicine in his hand

-Yashiro: "Here. You need to take this."

-Hanako just took it and gulped it down with no hesitation

-Yashiro, relieved, told him to get some rest and sleep there for the night

-Before she was able to leave, he suddenly grabbed her

-Hanako: "Wait....don't go...!"

-He sounded pretty desperate

-Hanako: "You...didn't come to the heist tonight...."

-There was a heist?! She didn't even realize at all

-Besides, she didn't even know if he wanted to see her

-He was avoiding her these past couple days

-and now he's acting like he wanted her to see him??

-A cat. He reminded Yashiro of a cat.

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun, you need to rest--"

-Hanako: "Are you afraid of me?"

-Yashiro's eyes widened at his question

-Hanako's hand

-It was trembling against hers

-He was afraid of how she would respond

-Yashiro: "No...If I was, I don't think I would have jumped out to shield you back then."

-Hanako: "Then, promise me"

-Hanako put up his other hand to make a pinky promise gesture

-Hanako: "Promise me you'll stay by my side."

-Yashiro formed her pinky gesture after a moment of registering what he said

-She then wrapped her pinky around his

-Yashiro: "I promise"

-Suddenly, Hanako pulled her towards him and they both collapsed onto the bed

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun?!"

-Hanako: "Stay with me. I feel cold."

-Yashiro flustered

-She was locked in place between Hanako's arms so she couldn't get out

-She was probably going to get sick from close contact

-Hanako cuddled her closer, taking in her hair scent

-Hanako: "You smell good..."

-She just took a bath earlier

-Hanako was being pretty touchy

-Whether he was dilerious from his fever or this was his usual flirting, Yashiro wasn't quite sure anymore

-Yashiro leaned against him in defeat

-Yashiro: "...I'm sorry about trying to find out more, even though I knew you didn't want to talk about it...I'll try my best to wait until you tell me yourself."

-Hanako: "Mhmm...."

-It seemed like he was drifting off to sleep

-Yashiro was also drifting off

-And they both fell asleep

....

...

-In the middle of the night, Hanako started whimpering

-Yashiro woke up to it, wondering what's wrong

-Hanako: "I'm sorry Tsukasa...."

-He shed a tear while saying that

-Tsukasa.

-That boy was still a mystery Yashiro had yet to figure out

-Yashiro decided to intertwine her fingers with Hanako's in hopes it would help

-and Hanako, who felt the gesture, seemed to have successfully calmed down and was back to peacefully sleeping

---

-Mitsuba was in his own apartment that night

-He would usually be up writing his journals on the latest scoop

-But tonight, he was looking at the same photos that he looked at after the moon heist

-When Kou was talking with him after the heist about how Hanako seemed to have gotten framed for Detective Three's murder, it came to his mind

-Not that he didn't notice before, he just never bothered questioning it

-And the photos that he just only recently decided to get developed served as more proof

-There was something odd with the photos of Hanako

-"Miiiitsuuba~"

-Mitsuba quickly shoved the photos away on impulse

-He turned around to see the visitor, still feeling a bit nervous

-Tsukasa. Somehow managing to sneak into his apartment

-Tsukasa: "You know the drill, right?"

-Mitsuba: "Yeah, yeah, I got you"

-Mitsuba had to pass Tsukasa the photos that he took of Hanako during the latest heist and any before

-Tsukasa: "YAY!"

-Mitsuba: "You're welcome I guess."

-Last time Mitsuba didn't go through with what Tsukasa wanted, Tsukasa thought it would have been fun to make him bungee jump out his apartment window

-That was a nightmare

-Tsukasa: "Hey Mitsuba."

-Mitsuba: "Hm?"

-Tsukasa: "You're not thinking of anything, are you?"

-Mitsuba's heart sped up

-No no Tsukasa can't read his mind

-Mitsuba: "I-I'm not sure what you're talking about"

-Dang he stuttered

-Tsukasa seemed to have let him be though and went off on his way

-Mitsuba sighed in relief

-There was a risky gamble he planned to take

---

-Kou phone rang but he was currently asleep

-Mitsuba: Missed Calls [2]

[harryshollands]

HERE FOR YOU  ( T.H )

Requested:  Nope!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A few months after your break up with Tom, you run into his brothers at the grocery store. Paddy manages to convince you to come to his football game by bringing up the pinky promise you’d made almost a year ago.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part two! I really really love writing imagines that involve Paddy and Y/N being adorable. This is no exception. Feel free to send me requests for the Hollands + Haz!

Masterlist! Send a Request!

Word Count: 2.3k

You were doing good. You were drinking your water, you were getting the right amount of sleep and your skin was pretty clear.

That was the overall definition of good, right?

But by your definition, your heart was hurting and you couldn’t bring yourself to chuck out all of the crap that your ex-boyfriend had left you with. It sucked. You’d given five years of your life to Tom Holland and now you had to find yourself once again. Your routine had always revolved around Tom. When you’re dating a movie star you take what you can get.

During your post-breakup slump, you’d managed to eat all of your junk food and now you needed to stock up in general, because once you ran out of sweet stuff you managed to eat all of your cereal.

So, here you were, in the middle of Tesco’s with a shopping cart full of cereal, ice cream, frozen meals and milk, trying to choose between two different types of Oreos.

“Y/N?”

You spun around, glancing at the person who had called your name before breaking out into a grin.

“Hey there, kiddo” You joked as Paddy flung himself into your arms, squeezing you tightly as if you were about to disappear.

“Paddy! Jesus, where are you- oh! Y/N! Hi!” Sam was rushing after his sibling, coming to a halt as he saw Paddy wrapped around you.

“Hiya” You laughed awkwardly, setting Paddy back on his feet as your finger’s gripped your shopping cart in an attempt to calm your nerves.

“I made it to the finals” Paddy blurted, a grin on his face as he watched your own light up.

“I knew you would! Congrats, Paddy! That’s so cool” You congratulated, giving him a high five as Sam glanced around the isle awkwardly. 

You and Sam had been the closest. You had considered him your best friend, so when Tom had ended everything with no warning you both snapped apart.

“Can you come?” 

“Huh?”

“Can you come to the game? You’re always there and we miss you” Paddy clarified, a hopeful look painted on his face paired with his best puppy dog eyes.

Your face fell slightly, but you quickly masked t with a small smile.

“I miss you guys, too, but I can’t just turn up, Padster. It’s different now” You told him softly, attempting to let him down easy before his older brother piped up.

“You should come. You’ve always been the only one who can stop Mum from screaming at people on the other team. Dad made her stay home at the last game” Sam admitted, trying not to laugh at the memory.

“I don’t know, you guys-”

“Tom is still filming in Italy so you won’t have to see him. Pleaaase, Y/N? You promised to be at all of my big football games” Paddy cut you off causing Sam to choke on a laugh at his little brother pulling out the promise card. 

Everyone knew that you kept your promises, and so, reluctantly you nodded your head, caving in to the youngest Holland’s puppy dog eyes and fake pout.

“Yes! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Paddy cheered, hugging you before rushing out of the aisle in search of Harry who had been flirting with an employee in the freezer section.

“I think you made his day” Sam joked as he gave you a grin, you smiled back awkwardly before nodding.

“He definitely made mine” You mutter softly causing Sam to frown.

“I’ll text you the details for the game. Maybe we could get lunch beforehand? It’s been really weird without you” Your eyes lit up at the thought of hanging out with your best friend again.

“Righty-o, my number is still the same.” You agree, a goofy grin your face matching Sam’s.

“I’ll leave you to your big Oreo decision. Let me know who wins, yeah?”

And that was when you knew that you were going to be okay. With or without Tom, you were going to get back on track and you weren’t going to let him stop your friendship with Sam just because of a break-up.

“I’m stuffed” You laughed as you split the check for lunch with the Holland family. Harry let out a groan of agreement as Nikki and Dom tried to persuade you to let them pay for your meal.

“Really, I can pay. You guys don’t have to pay for me when we go out anymore” You stated, your tone soft but firm and you saw Nikki’s face drop. The reality of the break up was back in her mind.

She’d loved you. You were always a daughter to her, and she really thought that one day you’d be her daughter-in-law.

“I want to” She replied, equally as firm as she squeezed your hand, pressing a kiss to Paddy’s forehead and walking over to the counter. 

Sam gave you a grin from beside you and by the time his mother had come back, it was time to pile into the minivan and head to Paddy’s game.

“He’s got this” You muttered to Nikki as she sat beside you, passing her camera to Harry for photos.

“I don’t trust those punks on the other team. Broke poor Toby’s ankle last year, you remember how distraught Paddy was for his friend? Disgusting. Should be banned” The woman grumbled causing you to giggle as the kids poured out onto the field.

You were always the calm one at these games. It was always you. But not today.

You decided to stand up and cheer.

Sam’s eyes were wide and Dom watched in amusement.

“You’ve got this, Paddy!” You shouted as the game began, Nikki grinning and standing up with you.

It didn’t feel like it used to. It felt better, you felt at ease and happy.

Harry was laughing to himself as he recorded the two of you screaming encouragement at his brother, not thinking twice before posting it on his Instagram story.

Nikki was laughing loudly and holding you close to her, almost like she was scared that you would slip away from her and her family again. But you wouldn't. Nothing could make you leave them.

Tom was whining as Harrison drove carefully through the crowded parking lot at the football field.

“Just get out, you div. Walk over there while I find a park” Haz grumbled, eyes squinted as he tried to find a small spot for his car.

“Good idea. Good luck!” Tom called to his best friend as he rushed out of the small Prius, slamming the door behind him.

It felt weird being back in London so soon after his break up. He’d pretty much left the day after he’d called it quits with you due to filming. It felt abnormal.

The brit weaved his way through the crowds, looking for a glance of his family, but his eyes landed on you. Cheering next to his mom whilst his family laughed along.

Tom felt like he couldn't breathe.

Seeing you again was like a kick to the gut.

You were with his family.

Not that he forbid them from seeing you, but he thought that you’d all go your own ways considering he broke up with you. 

It really was because of the distance. It sucked. He’d let some things that he didn’t mean slip out, too, and then you cried and broke down whilst he wheeled his suitcase out the front door, not looking back.

Before he even knew what he was doing, his feet were carrying him towards his family.

Harry was the first to spot him.

“Look at what the cat dragged in!” He laughed as he pulled his older brother into a hug. Tom laughed along with him before hugging Sam and his dad.

His mom had her hands over her mouth in shock. She hadn’t expected him to be home for another three months. You, on the other hand, were trying not to frown at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Nikki glanced at you before pulling her eldest son into a hug and turning back to the game, screaming tactics at her son and his teammates.

“Hi, love” Tom greeted you softly, his eyes drinking you in. 

He didn’t think that you could have changed much but he was wrong. 

You looked stronger. You oozed capability.

“Tom.” You nod back before shrieking as Paddy scored a goal.

“GOOD JOB, PADDY!” you screamed causing Tom to jump a little.

Paddy had won. Everyone was ecstatic, except for Paddy. You’d all gone for celebratory ice cream and Paddy was quiet the whole time.

“Why are you back?” Paddy asked Tom suddenly, the whole group falling silent. Tom frowned, seeing the grumpy appearance his little brother was maintaining.

“I wanted to see your game, Pads, what do you mean?” He questioned feeling slightly dejected as Paddy frowned at his reply.

“It took me two months to see Y/N/N and get her to come to the game. I don’t want her to go away because you’re here” Paddy replied bluntly, looking between his brother and you.

You narrowed your eyes at the child lovingly, shaking your head.

“Padster, I would’ve come anyway. I’m really happy to be here, but your brother came all this way for you and I think he’s feeling a little left out. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon but Tom is. Catch up with him while you can” You told the kid, and he listened. 

Tom looked at you in awe as his brother finally warmed up to him again.

God, he missed you.

“But I don’t want you to go again” Paddy mumbled causing your heart to shatter again.

“Hey now. I’m here right now, okay? And that’s what counts. Don’t blame your brother. Breakups are a two-way street” You console, pressing a kiss to Paddy’s forehead before motioning to Tom.

“Now go and hug him”.

The whole table was back in their bustle of a conversation, Paddy and Tom getting along marvellously and you and Sam cackling about Harry’s blurry photos from using the wrong lens.

“So you guys are still close, huh?” Tom asked you eventually. You glanced at him with a grimace on your face.

“No. I haven’t seen them in a few months. I’m only here for today”

Tom grinned and you already knew what he was thinking.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for Paddy”.

You glanced around the table, looking at the faces that were permanently ingrained in your memory. It was time for you to go and let them be, you thought to yourself. You leant across the table to Nikki, a small smile playing at your lips.

“I think I’m going to head out now” You inform her, trying not to linger on the way that her smile turned sad.

“Are you sure? You could always crash at our house, sweetheart. You always have a home with us” The mother of four offered, trying not to sound desperate. You shook your head, playing with your fingers.

“No thank you, I think I’m going to call it a night” You whisper back before pushing your chair back, gaining the attention of all of the family at your table.

You cleared your throat and smiled awkwardly,

“I’m going to head home now. It was nice seeing you all again” You address the table, a sad smile on your lips as Paddy rushes over to you.

“Do you have to? We can make Tom go? Will you stay then?”

“Pads, you can’t boot your brother out” You laugh lightly, pulling him into a hug and smoothing his hair down.

“I’ll see you guys around eventually, yeah?” You mutter, pressing a quick kiss to the youngest Holland’s temple bone. 

One by one, the family stands up and hugs you before sitting down once again. Tom doesn’t know what to do with himself as he says goodbye.

“I’ll see you around, Tom”.

The young adult watched as you walked out of the parlour, his eyes following you until you were out of sight.

Nikki looked at him with a frown, shaking her head at her oldest son.

“Why did you have to let her go again? It hurts every time, Tom. Every godforsaken time” The woman sniffled, leaning her head on Sam’s shoulder and grabbing napkins to dab at her tears.

Tom looked at his mother, jaw slack and completely flabbergasted at his family’s drop in mood. They were all less lively than they had been only moments ago.

“I didn’t- she wanted to leave. I’m confused.” Tom admitted, his eyebrows furrowing as his mother continued to sniffle.

“I haven’t seen her since you left her, Thomas. I loved that girl like she was my own. She would walk in the other direction if she saw us in public. Can’t even look at us, Tom. I thought that one day we’d be sitting in a church watching you marry her and now all I have is a photo of her from Christmas last year and the birthday present she got me. Today was the first time we’ve seen her since everything happened and I saw the way you looked at her as soon as you saw her with us. I thought that maybe- just maybe you would stop her, talk to her- something! Anything! But you didn't and it’s like I just lost a child all over again.” Nikki ranted, shaking her head and standing up from the table, brushing off her husband’s attempt to comfort her by grabbing her hand.

“I’m glad you’re home, darling, but I wish that it was different.”

And with that, Nikki paid for their ice creams and told Dom that she’d see them all at home, leaving Tom and the rest of their family in silence.

[chicalmeida]

The Look of Love - Daichi x Reader

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 2k

When Daichi met his new neighbour it just clicked. Not that a seven-year-old would take notice of that, but spending time with you felt right. You were is favourite person to be around.

Apparently, you went to the same school as him and, since your mums were old friends that decided that being neighbours was a great idea, they took turns on picking you up, and the both of you ended up playing in each other’s backyards a lot.

And when Daichi discovered that you liked volleyball too, his fondness of you grew even more. Your usual games were quickly replaced by volleyball “games”. Except it would be just the two of you passing the ball around clumsily since none of you had any kind of practice, just the love for the sport.

“(Y/n) we should join a volleyball club!” Daichi said one day, as the both of you rested at his couch, watching a game on television. A real one, with pro players and everything.

The smile you gave him in return was enough of an answer and you quickly made both your parents aware of your plan. So, the week after, you both joined a club and started to play.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a hot summer day, pretty normal for the middle of June.

As Daichi left the gym, he took notice of you, outside, waiting for him.

“You’re early (Y/n).” He greeted you.

“Yeah, my practice ended up beforehand.” You told him, with a small smile across your lips.

“Let me just get my stuff from the club room and we can head home.” He said, leaving you alone again.

You were already on the third year of middle school and you and Daichi had stick together through the whole time. You were practically inseparable, and people would often think that you were dating due to how familiar you were with each other.

Not that Daichi didn’t want it to be true. He was one hundred percent aware of his feelings for you, even though it took him a while to realize it. But he knew you weren’t into him. On the frequent hang outs with Michimiya and Ikejiri, you would often talk to the other member of the female volleyball team about the guys you liked, or thought were cute. And Daichi would never feature on that list unless you decided to start messing with him. So he just let it go, thinking he eventually would forget you.

He quickly grabbed his stuff from the club room and made its way back to you.

“Hey, you want to grab some ice cream? I could really use one with all this heat.” You asked Daichi when he came back.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” The male answered.

You both made your way to the convenience store that was on the way home, bought your ice creams and decided to sit on a bench of a park that was nearby. The sun had started to set meanwhile but the temperature seemed to stay exactly the same.

“(Y/n) I know that we still have a few months to go, but have you considered what school you’re going to choose in high school?” Daichi asked you somewhere in the middle of your conversation.

For some reason you seemed to flinch at the question. Did Daichi asked something wrong? Maybe you had argued with your parents because of it. Sometimes it happened, you showing up at his door upset because you had a fight with your parents. Most of the times the reason was the same. Volleyball. Even though they let you play, they would often say that you should focus more on your studies and just drop, and you would get upset and ended up discussing with them. Thus, Daichi ended up comforting you when it happened. So maybe they wanted you to go to a specific school and you had other ideas.

“What about you Daichi? Do you know where you want to go?” You asked him back, avoiding his question.

“Not fair, I asked first.” He said while eating a piece of his ice cream. “But if you’re so keen on knowing it, I’m considering attending Karasuno.” You sighed at his response.

“Okay I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it a secret because I haven’t told anyone yet.” You gave in, now extending your pinkie for him to intertwine his in a promise, something you did since you were kids.

“I promise.” He said, your fingers together now.

“The other day I received a call from Shiratorizawa.” You said as a small blush made its way to your face. “They said they were interested in giving me a volleyball scholarship for the feminine team next year, as long as I can keep my grades the way they are right now.” You finished, a hint of pride in your voice.

Daichi stared dumb fold at you. Whatever he was waiting to hear, this definitely wasn’t it. Not that he though you couldn’t do it, he knew you were an excellent player and you probably practiced more than him. But Shiratorizawa seemed like a dream only some could reach.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You asked him after a while of awkward silence.

“Sorry, I just-“ He just couldn’t make his mind on what to feel. On one hand, he was immensely proud of you. You worked so hard and Daichi knew you deserved this more than anyone, probably. On the other hand, it meant that you had to go away, you would stop to see each other on a daily basis and he would only be able to see you on the few weekends you would spend at home. It broke his heart.

“I’m proud of you (Y/n).” He finally managed to say with a smile. “Are you going to take it?” He asked.

“As you can imagine my parents were thrilled with it.” You replied while resting your head at Daichi’s shoulder. “But I have to think about it, I would have to move there and leave you guys behind.”

“If it’s us that you’re worried about, it’s not like we will stop being friends.” Daichi tried to reassure you, even though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. You or himself. “We can still talk on the phone and text and when you come home for the weekend we can hang out.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You sighed.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, when Daichi hit his head against Tanaka’s shoulder at the Wakutani game, your face flashed in his mind. No, it wasn’t because he had seen you in the stands watching his game, because he really didn’t see you, even though you were there. But in that moment, for some reason, he kind of whished you were.

It was only when he laid in the infirmary bed, resting, and you showed up there that he thought he was seeing things and, maybe, he really had a concussion. Because in the last three years you had become almost like a distant dream. You still spend some time together, but after some time at Shiratorizawa, you started to come home less and less and, when you did, you couldn’t always be with each other.

And Daichi recomforted himself with hearing the things that went on with your life through his mother, who, in her turn, heard it from your mother. But even if you were away, even if you grew apart, Daichi’s feelings stayed exactly the same. When he thought that he was ready to let you go, you would find a way to make him stay. You would be home that weekend and when he was with you, he immediately remembered the reasons he had to fall in love with you. Other times, it would be for real now, he would forget you, he told himself, and then, he would see a picture of you on Instagram or something on Twitter, making him realise how much he missed you and everything would stay the same.

So, when he saw you, at the end of the bed he was in, he really though he was having some kind of dream.

“Daichi are you okay? Did they drug you or something because of the pain? You’re doing a weird face.” You finally spoke, making him realise that this was the real thing. You were really in front of him in your Shiratorizawa uniform.

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.” He answered you quickly, feeling embarrassed of his previous behaviour. “What are you doing here, though? Shouldn’t you be playing?” He added. A sad smile appeared on your face and he instantly regretted what he said because it was the dumbest question in the world.

“I stopped playing last year after my knee surgery Daichi.” You replied. You didn’t look mad at the question, just sad. Of course he knew about your knee injury, you had bend it in the wrong way, trying to receive a ball during a game. Daichi had even visited you once. But back then you seemed eager to come back to the court, so when his mother told him that you quitted, he dismissed it as something your parents would make you do and that you would be back in no time. But the news that you started to play again never came.

“Sorry (Y/n).” It was the only thing he managed to say. By now he was sitting in the bed and you had come closer, picking his hand and playing with his fingers. Another thing you did ever since you were kids. “So, are you here to cheer for the male team?” Daichi asked you, trying to change the subject.

The sadness seemed to disappear from your face as you kept on playing with his fingers. Your sad smile was replaced with a loving expression.

“Actually, my boyfriend his a regular at Shiratorizawa. But when I heard you were playing, I had to go and see. But then you hit your head and I got worried.” You explained him.

Daichi almost felt happy that you were worried and came to check up on him, if not for the boyfriend part. You had a boyfriend? Since when? Why hadn’t his mother informed Daichi of this? But most importantly, who the hell was this guy that seemed to sweep you of your feet, judging by the happy look you had just from talking about him. Daichi felt something breaking inside of him. Maybe it was his heart, but he wasn’t sure since he though you already broke it when you left three years ago.

“Boyfriend? Who is he (Y/n)?” The captain managed to keep his cool, smiling even, masking his pain with innocent curiosity. After all he was used to deal with his other teammates, and he would often play the bad guy or something else to keep things in order. But he still removed his fingers from yours, touching you was too much for him, he was afraid he would lose control over a single touch.

“Well…” You started as your cheeks grew redder. “It’s Ushiwaka.” Your voice was almost a whisper but Daichi managed to hear it. The smile that came afterwards to your lips made clear how thrilled you were about it.­

“You seem happy with it.” Daichi didn’t even knew he could keep up with the act, but somehow, he did. He just wanted for this nightmare to end. So, he kept on smiling, hoping that if he could conceal the way he felt, the whole thing would end quickly.

“Yeah, he is a good guy, regardless of the first impression he gives.” You told Daichi, your eyes filled with nostalgia, as if a distant memory flashed in the back of your mind.

“Just so you know, we are going to defeat him tomorrow and go to Nationals.” Daichi provoked with his confident tone, his wicked expression showing. Now, more than ever, he really wanted to destroy Ushijima.

You gave a small chuckle. “Well, I guess I see you tomorrow at the game, then.” You said and made your way to the exit. You turned back and gave Daichi a last smile, which he returned, with a lot of effort.

When you left, he finally let his guard down, a long sigh leaving his lips. At least, the nightmare seemed to be over. He felt this big urge to scream and cry, but he knew better than to make a mess. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested, focusing his feelings on winning the next game and finally defeat Shiratorizawa.

a/n: back at it again. I hope you guys like this one, I will be publishing part II soon so stay tuned ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[savysavannah]

Practice Challenge One part Two

Special thanks to: @eaton-schreave and @s-morgan

Men have been paying more attention to me lately. Not that they didn't much before, I am a woman after all they're fairly predictable on that front. But what I wasn't expecting was how aggressive they'd be once I became something they knew they couldn't have. 

I tried to continue living on as if nothing happened. Wake up, go to work, work through lunch (you can't let the papparazzi see you with mayo on your cheek again), take a break and call Angelic who works at the palace and has been my personal helper through this transition, beg my boss to let me work through the selection, "I can just go to court virtually!", skip dinner, drive home, make sure no one is following me, they still haven't found out where I live at least, pop open a bottle of gin, then research this bitch who I had to somehow, for the sake of my own ass, not murder. 

The office is on floor 10 of the 20 floor building I work in. I park in the parking lot, thankfully the paparazzi can't follow me there as you have to scan in. I walked up to the elevator and pressed the button. Just as the doors closed a larger man ran up and blocked it with his hand. He was around 6’4 and towered over me, he stood a little too close and I clutched my purse to take the anxiety out.

I watched the numbers go up as we rode but felt him watching me. His pinky finger rubbed against my thigh fiddling with the hem of my pencil skirt. He couldn’t do anything to me, not with who I now was, not in a moving elevator. I tried to remember to breathe as we hit floor eight and leaned to the side to avoid him which he leaned closer in response. Finally we stopped at floor ten and I got off. Thankfully, he didn’t follow. 

I tried to put the moment out of my mind while I worked. It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened, but it was the first time that I was completely and utterly alone. I clicked the B key of my laptop over and over trying to get my brain to pump out something. Some kind of work. But all I got in response was the distracting thoughts of what to do next time. 

At lunch I stared at the elevator. I had to take either the stairs or the elevator. If I took the elevator I'd be stuck in the same situation. If I took the stairs I'd be alone in a dark area for longer. I pressed the button and watched my watch as I waited. 

I was thankfully alone as it lowered to the ground. I was able to breathe and let my mind debate over if I should go to the sandwich place near work or drive home and eat leftovers. Going with the sandwich I started to walk down the block.

“Daniel will you get off that stupid device and pass your sister the peas.” Mother ordered as we all sat at the table of our parents estate. Our weekly dinners were normally a lively event, but tonight was the first night before I left. Daniel and I still hadn’t made up since his plan for vengeance against someone who had not harmed him had succeeded. 

I’d tried to make the best of the situation, research some ounce of goodness in the Prince, but all I found were articles of his outrageous college behavior. Dan had been assuring me that once I was eliminated I would have a sea of men to pick from and would be happily married to a two or upper class three, I could quit work and be a simple housewife like his Marina, this outraged me further and caused a fight. My goal in life is not to be a wife but to work and be content with my work. Danny was the only one who could actually provide any solace reminding me that it would just be for a few weeks, possibly less, then I’d be back to work just as before. Eventually, people would forget I was ever someone to know and I could return to my life. 

Just as we finished dinner the doorbell rang, though there was quickly a rattling of the knob and a busting in before the help could get to the door. Grandmother came in with large pink bags, which I believed to be for me. Soon after I learned that they were filled with all kinds of masks. Masks for face, masks for hair, hands, feet. Apparently, being on TV meant my skin had to be extremely soft.  

Grandmother is the current head of the Mars candy corporation. Next in line is my Uncle Dennis, then my cousins, then uncle Ricky. Hopefully though it won’t come down to Ricky. Ricky blew all his money before he could trap a wife, he’s still a two as grandmother keeps him afloat, but barely. One day he’ll probably be caught with some kind of drug, he’ll be dropped to an eight, it’ll be a shame that could have been prevented had the lawyer in the family not been a stuck up bitch. I’m just tired of working for free on a man who will never change, and doesn’t deserve the luxury. But God forbid I charge family. 

The morning of the flight I wasn’t nervous at all. I said my goodbyes to my boss, let her know I’d be available on my phone or through email if she needed anything, locked up my home, and headed to the formal goodbye where I’d meet up with my family. There was a surprising amount of pride in the province for me being selected. I had read an article about how it seemed I would be destined to be the perfect fit for Queen. I already worked in helping those of Illea through complex laws and policies, I was well educated, from a wealthy family but not a literal two. I was the perfect mold and the pride of Labrador. There were other provinces which had an eight selected that were not quite as cheerful. In the quiet of the airport I was finally able to say my goodbyes. Mother told me to remember to not be too closed off, Father told me to be careful, Danny told me to tough it out but give it an honest try; “He may not be terrible, don’t deny yourself happiness.” Some nonsense like that. 

Dan congratulated me on the opportunity, and Daniel stood quietly trying to avoid eye contact. I was still mad at him. What he did was unforgivable. But we couldn’t leave like this. I hugged him tightly and boarded the plane.

The day was a blur, a blur of useless lessons, a blur of mild appearance changes, girls who were possibly friends, possibly enemies, possibly annoying. It was late into the evening by the time I got to my room. My maids, Florence, Abigail, and Eimear seemed eager to be serving possibly ‘the future queen of illea’ and I was eager for a moment to myself. I dismissed them for the night to unpack on my own. 

I’d snuck a few pairs of my own tailored dress pants in, my laptop, phone, a notebook, a few books, and a family photo. Soon enough the room was a strangers room with sprinkles of me throughout. Once I sat down at my laptop I realized it was already getting fairly late. I changed into a silk nightgown, closed my laptop and tried to sleep. 

As I slept I thought of the footsteps around me, everything felt so loud, a screaming echo that I was in the very last place I ever wanted to be. After a while of tossing and turning I finally stood and walked to the wine cellar. We had been told to make ourselves at home afterall. As I walked back to my room I bumped into a stranger. 

After a moment of shock and regaining my grip on the bottle of wine I looked up to see Prince Eaton. He was known to be more sane than his brother, so I was thankful for at least that. “Oh! I'm sorry, Prince Eaton.” I spoke and gave a small curtsy. 

He looks down at the bottle and myself with a bit of a furrowed brow “You don't need to apologize.”

He pauses for a moment and gives a friendly smile, “And you don't need to curtsy, either. Lady Savannah, is that right?” It’s a bit astonishing he’d both remember my name and recognize it as mine upon seeing me. If I were in his place I’m not sure I could. 

I sighed a bit in relief please I wouldn’t be getting yelled at for my carelessness this evening, “Yes. Just Savannah is fine, or Ms. Mars if you insist on formality. Though, the apology is still warranted considering I should have been watching where I was going. At little out of it, first night and all.” I lifted the bottle as the first night related to the bottle. 

He gave a deadpan joke and I was fortunate then that I am competent in people reading. It may have been awkward if his "I'm not sure wine will help you remember the palace geography.”

“Well, the goal is to drink it once I return to my room. That or the courtyard since it is pretty out tonight. Though, you do make an excellent point that the wine combined with being in an unfamiliar location could have negative consequences.” For a moment I paused. It may not be a horrible idea to make the acquaintance of someone here. 

“Care to have a glass with me? Splitting it and being with someone who knows the 'geography' well may decrease the negatives.” I offered. 

“Interesting that you don't drink though. I'd heard you were more....sober, than your brother but it's noted to the extent. *kinda blushes* not that I was researching you or anything, it's just difficult to not hear things when you both went to my undergrad and you're a prince. Kinda a common conversation topic.”

He stood a bit straighter and eyed the bottle, “I do not drink.” After a moment passed he then cleared his throat, the tone of his statement before must have hit him, “However I can keep you company if you want to.”

I stifled a laugh at him clearing his throat not trying to be rude but finding his realization funny, “Great then. You can be my guide then for the evening.”

he seemed embarrassed and put his hands in his jean pockets, “I'm afraid this kind of thing comes along with the title...“ he took a hand out of his pocket, making a motion like ‘shall we go?’ 

“So you went to the University of Labrador?”

“yup. Go Labs *kinda mumbles for a moment* I wasn't really there for long. We started the same year I think, which I don't really remember much of. I was kinda a different person then. Then I graduated in 2 years and went to Yale law so all in all not a whole lot of time there. But I am from Labrador and my family home is near the campus so I know the area pretty well.”

he had a very small smile “And I showed off to my brother for graduating in three years. Labrador is a beautiful province, though. I miss it.”

“Well, I'm sure you had more to do than me. I'm not some kinda royal so I just got to spend all my time working on getting credits. It is pretty though, I already miss it. Not that Angeles isn't. My mom's family lives here so I've been here a few times, but it's just not Labrador.”

“I agree, but I've come to realize Angeles is full of little gems. You just need to find them. Hopefully you'll be able to get out of the palace to see it for yourself.”

I chuckled a bit at my situation, “Well, I don't imagine I'll be here very long so maybe I'll have a little Angeles vacation”

he raised his eyebrows, “I know... My brother's reputation. But I think he's trying to take this seriously.” He paused for a moment, “Or as seriously as he can take anything.” It was a bit shocking to hear him say that. He seemed like a sensible person, any sensible person would be unlikely to defend the Prince. Though, he was also his brother, perhaps there's a familial bias. 

“Mhm.” I nodded then picked the conversation back up, “well, only time will tell. Hopefully for the sake of the country what's been said about him the last few years are baseless rumours” I sighed a bit thinking about which floozy of a wife will be our future Queen. The floozy and the fuckboy, what leaders. 

Prince Eaton clenched his jaw, “Media is prone to exaggeration.” but did not deny what had been said. 

He was being nice by walking with me so I decided to spare him a grilling and change the topic, “I'm sure. So how do you feel with the whole uh, 35 girls in your house situation?” Great now I sound like an interviewer. 

We reached an access to the gardens and he opened a French window for me, “My space is always invaded, it's nothing worse than usual.” He said with a failed attempt at a smile. I assume he isn’t looking for pity but it’s difficult to not be pitying over such an attempt. 

“That's fair I guess. Surprised you stayed though. Had my brother decided to have a bunch of ladies in our home, privacy be damned I don't wanna be around that mess.” I joked.

He snorted and seemed surprised at himself, “I was supposed to avoid it with a world tour. But things took another turn and now work won't get done alone.”

“World tour sounds a lot more fun. Postponed or cancelled?”

He gave his first genuine smile of the night, “Already done, actually. I came back a couple months ago.”

“Where did you go? Since I assume a world tour isn't literal?”

“Oceania, South Asia, Central Africa, and Europe.” He gave a small wistful sigh. I’d be wistful too if I had been all over there. 

“That's very worldly. I've only been to France and Germany. Did you have a favorite visit?”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment, “New Zealand and Scandinavia. What about you though? Did you enjoy your visits?”

The question caught me off guard so I took a moment trying to remember them, “they were alright. Quite a long time ago though. We only went to stay with my Uncle in France since he runs the part of my family's company in France and then we went to Germany because we were there so we may as well head there. Mostly it was just sitting with my brothers at a hotel while my parents went off or my grandma playing dress up with eight year old me”

“Oh. Do you regret not getting to see more of those places?” He said and looked to a bench we were approaching, but more with a thoughtful consideration than a directional goal. 

“A bit. It would have been nice to go out but they were more business trips than anything else. Maybe I'll go again at some point on my own if I have the free time.” I let us pass the bench, I’d been sitting far too much today with all the lessons and makeovers.  

“Sometimes you have to give yourself the time or you'll never do certain things.”  

“Logically I agree. But emotionally.....it's difficult to step back to work when my work directly impacts horrific moments of people's lives. Like if I were to go see a movie and my phone off, a client could be arrested and their treatment and time in jail without being able to contact their legal representation would be on my hands.”

He nodded slowly, “I can understand that. It gets hard to stop when people's lives are on the line.”

I sighed, trying not to get too revealing over my reasons for being here, afterall telling a stranger- regardless of him being a prince, that my brother had forged my application would be dumb, “I don't even really want to be wasting time here. But it is what it is. Trying to view this as a forced vacation. At least there are pretty flowers and good wine.”

He furrowed his brows, “Is there a way we could keep you working, from here? I guess you couldn't do much, but a little is better than nothing.”

I sighed,  “Yeah I tried. I work for the ICLU so I asked if I could just stay in contact with clients and work from a far. But I wouldn't be able to make any proper court appearances and they wouldn't want someone just thrown on for court so it made more sense to just give me paid vacation. They were pretty proud anyways since apparently it's an honor to be selected for this reboot reality TV bachelor show.”

He pursed his lips, “I'm sorry you don't get to keep working. But they're not wrong. You being selected does give visibility to your organisation.”

I stopped for a moment, completely caught off guard by the comment, “That is true I hadn't thought of that. It's a non-profit so I hope donations may increase from me being here.” I dug into the oversized pockets of my nightgown and grabbed a pen, always best to keep a pen in the pocket, then scribbled on my hand, “reminder to think of ways to bring up iclu during this.” I explained. 

He laughed through his nose and smiled, “See, a couple things might come out of your forced vacation.”

I chuckled a bit, “You're a smartass, and I mean that as a compliment. I can tell already which makes me feel much better about Prince Damian being in charge next.” I sighed content for a moment then remembered I was supposed to be making conversation, “So, you know I'm a nut for my work, what are you passionate about?”

He shrugged and looked around as if the gardens would save him, “My work.”

I smiled wondering a bit why that would be something to be ashamed of, “I get that. But do you have a specific part? I mean I'm sure you do a lot. So do you ever wake up and you're like 'man I get to do blank today!" Like for me it's court days because I love the theatrics of it.” I smiled a bit remembering the fun of cross. 

The question seemed too intimate for him as he tucked his hands in his pockets, “I guess I like working on projects. I mean, when the planning part of it.”

“Projects are fun. I hated them when I was in high school. I was very much so not the nerd I am today.” I tried to avoid going too deep into the projects conversation, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable. 

He raised a brow at the comment of my past, “I understand why people can find them boring, though.” Thankfully he didn’t press further on the past. 

“Yeah I was more of a push off project till the last minute and party with my friends type for a while. Now I kinda wish I could have them again, it'd probably be fun to analyse how the flaws of Gregory Illea still impact us from a historical perspective.”

He snorted and shook his head, “It's more nerve-wracking than fun, in my opinion.”

“Well yeah, but if you can identify the flaws you can work to fix them and the research is fun so overall, more fun.”

He looked up at the stars as he thought, “I don't know... Not all of it is fixable. Not that easily at least.”

I thought as well for a moment, the country had been in a bit of unrest for awhile now. He was probably thinking of that, “Well, just because it isn't easy isn't any reason to not be excited about it. The accomplishment of fixing something difficult is arguable even better.” I tried to reason. 

He stayed thoughtful, and looked down at me, “I see your points. But sometimes I think our ancestors just put us in a situation we'll never fully get out of.”

“That's a very cynical outlook and I disagree. It isn't logical to assume that just because a way hasn't been thought up yet that there can be a way out of a problem.” I said and smiled up at him. 

“Maybe it's cynical, but what I see is history repeating itself.” He looked up again, “It doesn't mean I think things aren't worth fighting for, though. But magical solutions don't exist.”

“I agree. Solutions often require a lot of work and even then are often not perfect. But to never fully get out of seems too far cynical for me to believe.”

  He looked down at me curiously, “You're more optimistic than you appear to be.”

I raised an eyebrow, “hm, interesting that I appear to not be optimistic. I take it that it's the wine bottle causing that.”

He smiled slightly, “Maybe. But just a little.”

“Any reason you don't drink?” I asked before realizing that may be very personal, “that is if you're comfortable answering.”

He shrugged, “I don't like the taste. Or the sensation.”

“That's a fair reason. I didn't like it much till I joined a sorority and ended up just liking it because we drank so much.” I kinda shuddered remembering the hangovers.  

He raised an eyebrow,  “I guess it tastes different once you're inebriated enough.”

“Yeah like spicy foods. Everyone hates them when they are a kid but you grow to love them as you get older.”

He snorted, ”I've always liked spicy foods, even as a kid.”

I laughed, “Well then you're weird. I still can't handle wasabi.”

He laughed softly, “You just need to be careful about the quantity.”

“No literally any bit of it and I'm out. My brother Danny put some on my sushi the other night, it was just a dapple from his chopstick but I couldn't eat the piece.” 

“Did you try to?”

“No. Why would I want to be in pain, I'm not a weird masochist.”

“How do you know it's that bad if you never give it another try though?”

“Hmm, traumatic memories.”

He raised his eyebrows, a curious expression on his face, “Care to share?”

I sighed at the memory, “When I was a kid I really loved matcha paste. It was like a sweet matcha pouch of paste that you could suck out, like those applesauce containers. it was my favorite thing. My grandmother gave me some and since my parents found it effective to shut me up I got it a lot. One day they ordered sushi, left it on the table, I was around four so i could reach it, thought the wasabi was matcha and ate a handful of it. Tears ensued and now I'll never touch it again.”

He laughed softly, “Alright, I understand better. But you could try to overcome your trauma someday.”

“Maybe one day, but with a lot of milk in arms reach”

He nodded, “I'm sure it can be easily arranged during your little vacation.”

I kinda shuddered at the thought, “I'll for sure need a friendly face there with me for moral support.” I laughed.

He laughed quietly, “It shouldn't be hard to find.”

“Probably harder than the wasabi though. So that is task number one on mission wasabi.”

He smiled slightly, “Well, if you stay stuck too long on task number one, I can volunteer as a friendly face.”

“Thank you. Same to you if you ever happen to need one.”

He nodded, “I'll remember that.” He jerked his chin to the wine, “Are you still planning on drinking this?”

I lifted the bottle and stared for a moment, “it'll come back to my room for further deliberation. Possibly a nightcap.”

“If it can help you get some sleep…” He glanced at the palace, “I should walk you back to your room.”

“If you don't mind. I would consider you an expert of palace geography after all.”

He snorted and shook his head, “Do you remember your room number? Or Hall?”

“Ummmmm. I'm gonna guess 14. Could be 15 though.”

He took a step towards the palace, gesturing for me to walk along, “Well, hopefully we won't step into anyone's bedroom.”

“Hm. Well the doors do say our names on them, so assuming one of us is literate I think we're safe from that” .

“I'm a humble geographer, I read maps.” He replied, getting a small giggle from myself.

“lead the way, humble geographer.” We walked for a bit through the palace till we found my room.

“That's me.”

He stopped in front of the room, “Well, we've made it. Unscathed, at that.”

“Very impressive. I would say you're a 10 out of 10 guide for such an achievement.”

He bowed, “Please don't hesitate to post a review on TripAdvisor.”

I chuckled at the joke, “well thank you for all your help. Wishing you the best, Prince Eaton.”

“Eaton's just fine. Goodnight.” He smiled.

“Good night, Eaton” I replied with a curtsy then retired to my room. 

Once I got on my laptop I pulled up my email. It wouldn’t be too annoying if I emailed my boss with some advertisement suggestions. If I let her know I’d be willing to help as much as I could. I could take up some interviews and remind people to donate. But as I typed I found myself hitting the same key over and over. 

Finally I scrolled onto Toogle and began to read about Prince Damian. The bottle of wine found its way to my lips as I read about his partying, his boorish public behavior, his absolutely lack of responsibility for his people. Quickly the bottle was empty. 

The world spun and I closed the laptop. My stomach gurgled demanding sustenance. Crackers? Something salty? Maybe popcorn. Popcorn and a movie sounds good, I mean why should I bother with anything else while I’m here in this hell. If I have to wake up early I can simply nap when I have a moment to spare. I took the bottle with me planning to throw it away in some form of recycling bin which I assumed would be in the kitchen.

I couldn’t find the kitchen. Instead I stood in an unknown hallway for a few moments, before finally deciding to give up and just return to my room. I could ask my maids for popcorn in the morning if I still wanted it. 

I walked to my room on the corner of the hallway, walked in and laid on my bed. I let my shoes slip off and rest on the ground next to where I had placed the empty bottle.

“Um…” I hear someone say who then clears their throat and says a bit louder, “hello?”

I Rolled around to look at her. I had dismissed all of my maids, who was this person? After a moment I recognized her as a selected who I had seen earlier in the day, “Um? Hi?” I mumbled and tried to sit up a bit in bed. This was not a good time for me to be receiving visitors and I hadn’t the slightest clue why this girl was in my room. 

She steps a bit closer to me, “Are you alright?”

“More than. Rich asshole got fucking great wine. I'm Savannah Mars of Labradoradora. Why are you in my room?” I slurred. 

She mouthed “Labradoradora” silently to herself before she blinked again, and walked to the edge of the bed and looked at me. Seeming to understand my condition she smiled, “Somehow someway, you ended up in my room. Sienna. Not... Sorry, what’s your name?” 

“Woops.” I giggled a bit at the situation now fully understanding this poor girl's confusion at my intrusion. “Savannah.”  I lifted an arm in a lazy wave, “Mars. If you read the papers I'm the selected whose brother punched a reporter.” 

She half grimaced, “Well hopefully you don’t punch me when I offer to help you back to your room.” 

I laughed a bit at what this girl must be thinking of me, “not at all! They're just protective over a creepy paparazzi.” I sat up more straightly and swayed a little.“you don't have to help me though. I am perfectly capable of finding a room. Regardless of my state I am in fact a lawyer. Therefore I can read.” 

Her smile is a little more at ease with my laugh, then she nodded slowly, “Oh absolutely. But so I don’t get mixed up in the future, can you let me come?” She said, eyeing my swaying carefully. 

“Gotcha!” I cheered and did some finger guns and stood up successfully with the help of the bedpost, “I'm a lawyer, you?”

She stepped near me and offered a hand, answering distractedly, “Illustrator.” 

I took her hand, “Pretty!” Then blushes a bit at the exclamation, “Illustration i mean! You are too though!” Trying not to insult the stranger.

She laughed softly and took my arm into the crook of hers, “Thank you. The compliment goes both ways.”

I nodded enthusiastically, “oh no bad idea dizzy.” I said and settled myself again, “I sleep somewhere around here. Why do all these doors look the same”

“I see why you got confused heading into my room.” She chuckles as she scans the plates, “Are you sure your room’s in this direction?” She blinked “Never mind.”

Suddenly I saw another door, it said S something, how many selected with S names could there be, “S is me!” I exclaimed. 

She squinted and she looked closer at the nameplate, “S is close to you, but this isn’t your room. It’s Soraya’s,” She frowned and nodded at a guard who we passed. 

“Oh... “ I wondered why someone else would have joined this, I suppose this other selected is a perfect person to ask, “Do you have the hots for the prince?”

She seemed startled by the question, “Well... we haven’t even met him yet.” She then raised a brow, “Do you?”

I laughed and nearly threw my head back, “Absolutely not! But I was wondering if all the girls here would be like” I stopped for a moment to gather myself, “UWUWUW Prince Dammmm i wanna be your wifeeyyy” I batted my eyes mimicking my expectation of my fellow selected, “and shit.”

Thankfully she laughed before quickly covering her mouth, “Let’s see how the interviews go then talk. I might go all moony-eyed.” 

I half chuckled, “I don't think there’s a thing he could say to me to make me go all "uwu'. Strongly dislike the man off the bat.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow, a laugh still in her voice, “Is it the partying?”

“120%” I said fully serious. 

She hummed, “What about it don’t you like?

“The fact that he's supposed to be the heir to illea and he's running around partying like he's just some ordinary frat boy. He has an obligation to the country and his choice to party over starting on work directly impacts thousands of peoples lives. I spend freaking days arguing cases that could just be solved if we had a leader who was sand enough to amend laws that deserve amending but he's out there doing jello shots and drinking tequila!” I complained, probably spilling out a bit much.

She sighed and bobbed her head to one side for a moment, focusing on the hallway before they reached the end of it and realized her room is probably back where they were before, she simply missed it. tugs them back in that direction again, “Maybe he’s... getting it out of his system.” She defended and wrinkled her nose clearly not believing her own words.  

I sighed, “Maybe. At least this will let me tell if he's really that hopeless or not. Not that I'm one to speak in my current state.”

She gave a short laugh, “What if he is hopeless? What will you do then?”

I hadn’t quite thought that far out, “I figure out which one of you is the least hopeless and try to help them win.” I suggested.

She seemed amused at my conclusion, “Why did you submit your name then? For kicks and giggles?”

I sighed, “I didn't submit my application. Let's just leave it at that. Why'd you submit yours?” She seemed to agree with me about the large faults of the prince which made me more curious. 

“Second chance at... something.” A vague answer. 

I snorted, “something? What did you date a prince in a past life?”

She looked down with a smile then back up, “Life. Second chance at life.” I knew what she meant. The chance to reinvent yourself. I was able to get it before, if this was hers I wished her the best. 

I looked up at her and smiled, “Well, I hope you get it Ms. Artist.”

She directed a smile at me, “Thank you.” We finally approach a room directly labeled Savannah Mars, which is funnily enough exactly across the hall from Sienna's. “I hope you don’t get too much of a headache tomorrow.”

I waved, “Nah I chug water.” I smiled at her already feeling the effects wearing off, “Thank you for walking me here, and I'm sorry for lying on your bed.” 

“Sure sure.” She let go of her arm and raised a brow, “Positive you’ll be alright?”

“Positive.” I replied with a brief nod, headed into my room, then passed out for the night.