#There’s always been at least on scene with them together since they became roommates

[x0xx0x1]

There wasn’t a single SandxNick scene in the entire episode.

Not even them passing by each other 🙁

[captain-aralias]

someone commented yesterday on my 8th year mpreg that i didn't finish because i had a baby 2 weeks early (a year and a half ago!) (he's still alive - all is well).

and i thought, after reading this comment:

OK, it's time to put the bits that i didn't finish on the internet!!

because i will PROBABLY never finish this fic at this point. but who knows? but also probably not. if you are reading this fic and you would like to finish it, crack on. get in touch. i will help you!

here's the stuff i didn't finish. it's about a thousand words, some cut scenes from chapter 1 and a rough plan for the rest. 👇👇

Chapter 2: Second Trimester

SIMON

Surprisingly, Penelope agrees with Baz about the wedding.

“Magicians are always claimed by their families,” she told me after I’d explained what had happened with Baz. And his mum. And after she’d asked a lot of questions. (Fortunately, I’d already told her about the Humdrum, and that Baz and I had slept together, but it was still a lot to take in.) “There are loads of spells that only work for people with the same name,” she explained. “Magickal objects that only work if they’re passed down through the family. And of course, the Pitches would want to keep an eye on someone with their blood. A lot of magicians have historically been killed by their own relatives.”

“You mean, for power?” I suggested.

“Often,” Penny agreed. “But also, because no one can hurt you like your own family.”

She’s been looking into wedding magic ever since. Baz has been helping her. And then, once she’s finally gone back to her own room, he helps me with the investigation into his mum’s death. 

I thought that would be terrible, but it’s all right working with Baz. Good, even. He’s got an organised mind. And he knows I’m always hungry – especially now – so he brings food up from the kitchen before we start. Unfortunately, we haven’t got much further. We still don’t know who Nicodemus is or why anyone would want to hurt Headmistress Pitch, besides the obvious. But Penny’s made good progress. Last week, she qualified as a magickal officiant. This week, they chose the binding spells. 

She and Baz also decided where the wedding would take place. It has to be somewhere significant to both of us – and our relationship. I suggested our room. 

Baz disagreed. “You’re not even trying,” he told me, like he thought I should put more effort into our marriage of convenience. 

Neither of us wanted to go back to Lancashire, for obvious reasons. And Baz already rejected the Catacombs. So, I said it was fine when he suggested the Wavering Wood. At least, it’s close. 

I’m regretting it now. Now I’m standing outside in the middle of a forest at midnight – because, of course, it has to be midnight – freezing my bollocks off while Penny conjures an altar out of a rock. 

Baz is at my side, looking cool and unruffled. He’s dressed for the weather: in a long dark coat and leather gloves. It’s all very Sexy Vampire. I keep catching dryads sneaking looks at him, then ducking away when I scowl at them. 

“Will you stop fidgeting?” he hisses as I try wrapping my arms over my chest and shift my weight again. “You don’t want to be here. Message received.”

I sigh and drop my arms. “It’s not that.” 

Baz looks surprised. “It’s not?”

I shake my head, although admittedly I don’t want to be here. Now. In the Wood – I’d prefer to be in our room – but I don’t want him to think I’m upset about marrying him when I’m actually OK with it. It’s only a ceremony, isn’t it? We’ve already had sex. We’re already having a baby. 

When you think about it, this is basically a repeat of the time we became roommates. Well, except that this time, there’s a bit at the end where we’re supposed to kiss. I don’t mind that, though. I think I might even be looking forward to it. I think I’d have kissed Baz again before this if I thought he wanted me to. If he ever looked at me the way he did back in Lancashire, instead of sneering in a way that makes it clear that he has no idea how we ended up in this situation. 

He's not sneering now, though. He’s just confused. 

“I’m cold,” I tell him. 

Baz frowns. I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “You don’t get cold.”

He’s right. Or at least, he should be. I can’t really control my body temperature anymore. I keep forgetting. I borrowed a suit from Gareth earlier (I told him I had a funeral to go to) and I’m not wearing a coat. Now parts of me I doubt Baz wants to hear about are aching. 

“I think it’s a pregnancy thing,” I say, sort of grimacing because saying things like that makes me feel like an arse. I’m not even sure I’m right. I haven’t read any pregnancy books, I haven’t had time – I just wish my nipples didn’t hurt. 

Baz grimaces too, though kind of … sympathetically, I think. 

“I see.” 

He looks down at his hands and pulls of his gloves. At first, I think he’s going to give them to me – which wouldn’t help, even if they actually fit – but instead he tucks them under his elbow and brings his palms together.

“Here.” 

There’s an outraged huff from the trees as a small, hot flame appears between his hands. Dryads hate fire – this one will’ve gone right off Baz. (Good, I think. He’s about to be off the market, anyway.)

He holds the fire out to me. “Take it.” 

I stare at him. “Huh?”

Baz scowls. “It won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t. I just don’t know how to keep fire going the way Baz can. It either goes out or… it doesn’t. I might not be a fan of the Wavering Wood anymore, but I don’t want to burn it down either. Especially not while I’m in it. And Penny. And Baz is a vampire, he’s flammable. (Can Baz be burnt by a flame he started? I don’t want to find out. This baby needs two parents.) 

Before I can explain myself – Baz never lets me explain myself – he’s taking my hand in one of his, holding the fire in the other. I almost pull back. But … I don’t. I have to trust him. 

I let him drop the little flame onto my palm and it burns 

NOTES (what do they mean? in some cases, even i don't know, but i thought 'oliver' was a fun name for baby as it's simon's original middle name from fangirl without being an obvious reference like - 'davy' or 'jamie' or some ridiculous pitch bullshit)

Backstory – magic is too precious

telling Penny, she thinks its sensible. But weird. 

Baz spells it warmer. No actual ceremony. 

BAZ

Comes back from hunting. 

Sex

SIMON

Napping – Baz and Penny solving the mysteries 

BAZ

They work out the Humdrum hasn’t attacked. 

Carrying to bed

Actual husband / Simon, I am your actual husband.

Summon – backstory from Humdrum, your dad, Simon’s pumping magic into the baby 

SIMON

Confronting the Mage?

He’s like – Simon, this is weird, Malcolm Grimm just wrote to me about taxes, wants to help fight the Humdrum. Simon shouting at him. 

BAZ

“I’m going to be a terrible father.”

Baz tells him he was the Chosen One – wished for a way to end this.

Maybe more sex?

SIMON

Oliver.

cut scenes/different variations - usually i offer some editorial on what this is and why i cut it, but we're so far in the future now folks. again, who knows? i think i cut most of these because they were boring and facewithoutheart's eight months is all about being zippy

“You know when we––”

I nod. I don’t need him to say it, I was there. (We had sex. It was good, until it wasn’t. Until Snow realised who he’d slept with and what that meant for the relationship he actually cares about.)

“Well.” Snow’s looking at his feet now. At the ceiling. Anywhere but at me. “Something … happened after that.”

I imagine quite a few things did. I was kidnapped by numpties, for a start. And kept in a coffin for six weeks. (I doubt that’s what Snow’s referring to.) 

“I mean, because of that,” he says. “Also, the Veil lifted––”

“What?” This isn’t what I expected.

“While you were gone,” Snow says. “Your mum–– I wrote it down. But I left my bag in the hall, fuck. Anyway, she––”

He’s still not looking at me, so it takes him by surprise when I grab him and shove him back against the stone wall of the corridor. 

That gets his attention. His eyes flare with anger. “Baz.”

“What about my mother?”

“Let me go first,” Snow growls. 

I don’t have to do it. I’m much stronger than him and he would talk, eventually. I’ve riled him up enough that he 

//

I’m not going to do that.

Snow’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted – or close enough. What’s there to think about? What am I doing here? 

I need to tell him I agree with him before he changes his mind. 

//

SIMON

Baz isn’t in Greek. 

That bothers me – although at least I know where he is this time. (Screaming into a pillow probably. Or throwing himself into the moat.) Obviously, I knew he’d be upset – why wouldn’t he be? But I didn’t think he’d be so upset he’d miss more school. He only just got back. 

I’m not expecting to see him in Magic Words, which is our next period, and I don’t. But he’s waiting for me outside the classroom door once the bell goes for morning break. 

“Finished processing?” I ask him. 

“Have you?” Baz retorts, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. (It would’ve been no. I haven’t finished. I’ve barely even started.) 

//

Miss Possibelf says it’s good to have him back.

“It’s good to be back,” Baz says. 

“What does that mean?” I say, even though I’m not in the conversation. 

Baz sighs. “What do you think it means, Snow?” 

But that’s just it – I don’t know. Is he just happy 

//

“Simon,” Penny hisses next to me. “Your magic.”

Now she’s said something I can smell it. Thick smoke. Suffocating. I can see other kids looking at me. Baz turns in his seat to look at me, too. For once he isn’t sneering. (He looks nicer when he’s not sneering. He looks nice. Too thin, but nice. We’ll have a really good-looking baby if it takes after him.)

Miss Possibelf asks me if I need to step outside. 

“No,” I say. “I’m good.” 

I can’t risk being thrown out right now. What if Baz gives me the slip after class? 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 27 - Puppy Play]

Pairing: Good Boy!couple

Kinks: puppy play, kneeling, leather collar, puppy mitts & ears, praise, good boy kink, this is a kink scene out of sexual context & moreso in a “i love engaging in this kink because it makes me feel happy & safe” context which is toptier

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: he is so cute! i wanna give him the world!! tete my sweet love :( please luv him!! hahah enjoy besties 💜

“Open it.”

Taehyung shakes the neatly wrapped box.

“What is it? It���s so heavy”, he says.

“Just open it”, you say, grinning knowingly. 

“Okay, god this is so exciting”, Taehyung says, turning his attention to opening the present you got for him.

You were nothing but friends being roommates once. Twelve months ago to be exact. You were still roommates these days, but changed the friends status to happily dating. And it is awesome. Living together for such a long time before finally falling for each other makes all of this so easy and so right. You know his worst quirks and Taehyung knows yours. You learned how to communicate and how to run a household together even before you became lovers and now every day feels like the easiest piece of cake with him. It is also so comforting to know that he will always be your friend. Love feels so right when it’s based on friendship, you realised that much whenever you can be silly with him and he matches your energy instead of looking at you weird. Truly, he feels so incredibly right.

It was your anniversary today. One whole year together. It may sound like a lot to a few people, but you both know that it was only the beginning.

You each got presents for the other. Taehyung got you this one specific and super expensive superhero playing card set. You’ve been dreaming of it ever since last year of college. You love it so, so much and plan on looking at it at least once a day.

You got Taehyung one of his dreams as well, burning up in excited anticipation of when he finally sees it.

Taehyung places the ripped paper aside, sneaking a glance at you over the frame of his glasses. It’s a brown cardboard box with nothing on it.

"Open it", you stress, bouncing on the sofa in excitement.

Taehyung looks back at the box and finally opens it. 

"No."

"Yes.

"No."

"Yes."

"Darling", he squeaks out, looking at you with teary eyes.

You giggle. 

"And? Do you like it?" 

"How did you even get that? Oh my god, this is, is everything I ever dreamt of."

"I know", you say, scooting closer to wipe his tears.

"I love you", he says, leaning in for a kiss.

"I love you too", you tell him once he pulled back again to look back into the box.

He begins giggling like crazy, wiggling on the sofa in a happy dance while his hands take out the present. 

Handcrafted kneepads with comfortable straps and a good hold. You had to sneakily take measurements of his knees for it. Thankfully Taehyung is out cold once he sleeps. 

And puppy mitts. Black leather and with a white puppy paw print at the front. Taehyung dreamt of them ever since he became a puppy player, but never got them because of how expensive this certain model was. 

"I can't believe you got them. They’re my dream mittens", he says, hugging them to his chest and rocking them as if they were a baby. He rests his cheeks on them, giggling cutely.

"You're so cute", you say, melting in fondness. He deserves all the happiness in the world. 

Taehyung drops them but only so he can fling himself around you, attacking your face with a million kisses. The momentum of his attack forces you to fall, back hitting the sofa. You laugh, eyes squeezed shut so he doesn’t accidentally kiss your eyeball in his aggressive display of love.

"I love you. I love you. I love you", he chants between his kisses.

“I love you too”, you say between giggles and with your heart racing like crazy. That is exactly why you love giving him presents. His happiness in contagious and you hope it never ever ends.

Taehyung reaches for the kneepads once his love attack stops. He runs his fingers over the material, eyes sparkling most ardently.

“Do you like them?” you ask him, “I thought they could be useful because you always say that your knees hurt after crawling around.”

“I love them”, he says, hugging them against his chest, “they’re gonna be so helpful, but oh my god”, he drops them, reaching for his puppy mitts, “I have to say that this is my favourite. I can’t believe you got them for me”, he says, kissing them before hugging them as tightly as possible.

“I expected you to say that”, you say, caressing his thigh, “you’re so cute. Do you wanna put them on?”

“Yes, yes wait but wait”, he stumbles off the sofa, “I wanna get the full gear”, he babbles already running off, “wait”, he stops, looking at you with big eyes, “can I get the full gear? I think I’ll fall into puppy headspace when I do. Do you consent to that?” he makes sure, looking oh so hopeful and shy.

“Of course I do. That sounds like fun”, you assure him.

“Okay, okay”, he says and squeaks, running off after doing a little jump.

You can hear his footsteps run back to you after a few moments of silence. He almost stumbles over his own feet from how excited he is running, holding his leash and collar and his puppy ears.

“I’ve got everything”, he says, dropping in front of you on his knees. He places his gear on your lap, finding his waiting position afterwards.

You chuckle, “don’t you wanna put on the kneepads first?”

“Oh yeah”, he blushes, “I have them now, don’t I?”

“You do, yeah”, you smile.

“Okay, okay I gotta put them on. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, this is the best day of my life”, he babbles as he scurries to put the kneepads on. He is so excited that he slips them on over his sweats.

“And?” you ask him.

“Really comfortable, I like how they feel”, he says, dropping on the floor, “oh wow okay. This is amazing, holy moly. My knees don’t hurt anymore”, he giggles again, hiding his face between your thighs as he hugs your legs, “thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you”, his voice is muffled by your lap.

“You’re so cute”, you say, ruffling his soft hair.

Taehyung lifts his head again. His glasses are just slightly tilted from burying his face in your thighs. You reach out to fix them, caressing his cheek afterwards.

“My good puppy”, you whisper, watching how Taehyung’s eyes soften as his mind very slowly shifts into his favourite headspace.

He grumbles happily, widening his eyes to appear cuter.

“Can I put the ears on you?” you ask him.

Taehyung nods his head, tilting it afterwards to make it easier for you to clip them into his hair. You work carefully, making sure not to accidentally tug on his hair. Taehyung plans on getting a full puppy hood one day, but for now he really loves the ears. The puppy hoods feels and looks so sexy to him and he is still a little unsure if he can be such a puppy. You always assure him that his insecurities aren’t real and that he would look amazing in the hood, but you know not to pressure him. Besides, Taehyung looks so adorable in his puppy ears that you can’t ever get enough of them. They also look so real. It’s remarkable really, that once you put them on correctly and his fluffy hair hides the little clips, it really looks as if Taehyung possesses over two very fluffy and floppy puppy ears.

Today is no different. He looks like a completely different person once those ears are on. He looks happier, cuter, more handsome and all in all like your bestest boy.

“Look at you”, you say, petting his head right between his ears, “you’re such a handsome boy.”

Taehyung wiggles his hips, letting out a little happy growl as he nudges your palm with his head. Giggling, you bury your fingers deeper, scratching him right behind his puppy ear.

His happy little noises motivate you to scratch him even better, using your other hand to scratch him right behind his real ear. He’s so sensitive there. Shivers run down his spine, skin prickling like crazy. 

“My handsome boy, you’re such a handsome boy, yeah you are”, you coo.

Taehyung barks, huffing out air afterwards. His cheeks are glowing, he can’t seem to stay still. Oh he is so very precious. You have to lean in for a little kiss. Right on his forehead. Taehyung calms down a little afterwards, gazing up at you with parted lips.

“Sit”, you order and Taehyung obeys by sitting down on his heels and putting his balled fists in front of his knees. His back is straightened, his head is held high.

“Good boy. Now stay”, you tell him, watching in delight as Taehyung tenses his muscles just a little to keep the position.

You place the leather collar around his throat, making sure that it is tightened comfortably. He likes having it closed on the third hole, but you still make sure that it sits well.

“How is the tightness? Do you feel comfortable?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“That’s good. Tell me if something starts to hurt”, you say to which Taehyung nods his head again. You smile, rewarding him by giving him scratches under his chin.

Taehyung tilts his head back, wiggling his butt happily.

“Such a good boy. You’re such a good boy”, you praise, making Taehyung whimper softly, “now. Sit.”

He obeys instantly, hips rolling against nothing just once. He isn’t completely hard, but his bulge does look just that tiny bit bigger than before. Taehyung doesn’t always get super hard when he’s in puppy headspace. It’s more the praise that gets him hard. When he’s in puppy headspace he is in a more calm and relaxed state. Often, your play sessions consisted of nothing more than Taehyung wanting to play with one of his puppy toys or wanting to nap next to you all curled up with his ears and collar on while you scratched his back. You loved those sessions as they comforted you just as much as they did Taehyung. He was always so adorable and cute and gosh, you just wanted to pick him up and smother him in kisses. Sometimes, your play sessions were for sexual gratification as well, of course they were. Taehyung liked to perform oral on you during those sessions, exclusively kneeling on the floor while you held his leash and tugged on it whenever he did something well. Other times you enjoyed a passionate round of fucking in doggy style with his leash wrapped around your fingers and his grabby hands all over your body. Taehyung’s been the one doing the penetrating up until now, but you both were playing with idea of trying out pegging lately. This however, was topic for another day.

“There we go. Such a good boy”, you praise, letting your eyes run over his body. Fluffy dark hair, black framed glasses and no make-up on. A white t-shirt and grey sweatpants with no socks. He is so incredibly handsome like this that you could swoon just from the view.

You reach for the mitts, placing them on your lap. Taehyung eyes them, growing restless despite his otherwise so well manners. You don’t mind that he does, you can only imagine just how excited he actually feels at the aspect of finally wearing his dream mitts.

“They’re gonna look so pretty on you, I can feel it”, you tell him, opening the right glove for him, “paw.”

Taehyung obeys happily, placing his hand on your lap. He is breathing heavily, thighs rubbing together and eyes glassy in excitement.

“Are you excited?” you ask him.

“Yes”, he answers you in a raspy voice.

“Me too”, you say and take his hand to slip the glove on.

Taehyung exhales shakily, hips squirming and eyes sparkling like crazy. He feels so happy that he could scream. The second glove slipping onto his hand only increases those feelings to the point where he wants to squeal. He is actually wearing his dream mitts! Taehyung finally has puppy paws!

“There we go”, you say, caressing his gloved hands gently, “now you’ve got the cutest puppy paws ever.”

Taehyung whimpers. It sounds more human than dog-like, making you look at him in worry. He seems to practically glow in happiness, sparkly eyes focused on his paws and cheeks a deep red from pure excitement.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“I wanna cry”, he confesses, “this, this is the m-most beautiful I’ve e-ever felt”, he says, looking up at you with glassy eyes.

“Well, you are the most beautiful”, you say, leaning down to cup his cheek and kiss his forehead, “you’re my beautiful puppy.”

“Oh god”, he presses out and then gives you cute bark. One that makes you giggle and smooch his forehead again for good measures.

Taehyung gets back into his usual position, looking so goddamn happy to be here. And he is. He is so, so happy. Being in position feels so good with those mitts on. He can’t accidentally open his fingers and therefore ruin the illusion of having paws and the fabric inside is so soft on his hands. He whimpers, doing it more dog-like than human, which lets you know that he was so ready to continue playing. He’s your little puppy again and you love that for him. He looks so, so happy.

“Do you want to go mhm?” you ask him.

Taehyung huffs out air, growing restless on the floor.

“Okay. Go”, you order, watching in delight as Taehyung breaks out of his sitting position to explore the living room. He looks so beautiful now that he’s in full gear and his knees don’t hurt anymore. He takes more confident steps and seems to move even happier. He stops when he is in the corner of the room where your little dracea is bathing in the afternoon sun. He looks at you, smiling the brightest, most beautiful smile ever.

“You look so amazing”, you say, smiling just as brightly, “how do you like them?”

“I love them”, he says before jumping into full spring (obviously as best as he can) to run back to you.

“Woow look at you run. You’re so fast now”, you gasp, clapping into your hands in utter happiness.

Taehyung climbs onto the sofa, attacking your face with kisses and soft licks as his butt wiggles like crazy.

“Ah baby”, you gasp, laughing until your tummy aches, “gosh, I know I’m happy too. You’re such a good boy, I’m happy too”, you giggle, holding him by his shoulder to fight him off gently, “gosh calm down, calm down.”

Taehyung whimpers and barks quietly, nuzzling his face into your neck just to nibble on it as carefully as possible. He can’t handle his happiness and he wants you to know. He actually felt like a puppy when he ran back to you. The mitts finally gave him the sort of sensations he has always been craving for and the kneepads finally prevented his knees from hurting after three steps. He can finally crawl around without pain which means he can stay on the floor as a puppy even longer!

He lifts his head, looking at you with lovedrunk eyes.

“Thank you so much”, he whispers, painting the fondest smile onto your face.

You cup his cheek, making him lean into the touch and for his eyes to fall closed.

“You deserve the fucking world, Kim Taehyung”, you say, “I want you to always be happy.”

“I am”, he says, “when I’m with you I am”, he adds, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

He plans on wearing his gear for the rest of the day. You play with his toys, make him catch his favourite stuffy and later when the moon replaced the sun you will make sweet love until you both fall asleep in exhaustion.

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Different Kinds of Falls

Request : autumn themed + underwear store with Wilhemina

A/N: @blacksmokieee25 since you’re probably not going to bed until the sun rises, I’m posting this now. Happy birthday lovely ^^ I tried lacing together your two requests and came up with this weird, vignette fic that I hope you’ll like. I hope your 23rd year will bring you love and happiness. I’m very glad I know you xx

Warnings: a tiny little bit of smut and a lot of bad English

Word count:  ≃ 4 600

She was like a princess in a fairytale, trapped in a tower and waiting for someone to save her from isolation. Except no one had come. She would have to do the saving herself.

But she was too tired, she protested. She couldn’t do the saving. She said, Because to save someone, you have to think they are worthy, you have to love them at least a little. And the dragon keeping me prisoner – that dragon is me. I cannot save myself for I do not think I’m worthy.

All this of course she didn’t say. You thought it yourself, as you lay in bed watching her, the sheet pulled up high so she could hide herself – she wouldn’t say she’s hiding, she would say she’s cold. You had been reading The Island of Doctor Moreau next to her, a little appalled, a little sleepy, until you had come upon one sentence and stopped. Now you stood watching her as the sentence played in your head like a record spinning again and again.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is dead, too.

Wilhemina felt your gaze on her and glanced at you, looking as if she couldn’t quite believe she had allowed you to lie half naked in her bed like that. She looked a little fierce, you thought, a little too mean for a lover. She looked like she didn’t quite know how to let herself be loved.

You gave her a smile and ran one finger down her cheek, along her jaw to her chin, down her neck. Wilhemina’s brow furrowed, shoulders tensing as your finger reached the collar of her nightdress.

Will you let me see you naked? you wanted to ask, just a whisper so as not to scare her.

Of course you didn’t.

You wouldn’t make a good hero, you thought. You would make a terrible knight. The one who always runs away first, who says bad jokes to make up for her cowardice and her overwhelming fear of love.

You would take one look at the dragon and leave the princess in her tower.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is thriving, too.

But consider, you thought, as Wilhemina, still frowning, leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips: what if you saw the princess before you saw the dragon. What if the princess saw you. Doesn’t love make the lovers brave?

Wilhemina’s kisses were often clumsy. They were always terrified, that this kiss would be the last, that after it would only come the bite of her own teeth and the burn of her tears. Her fingers slid behind your neck and clutched your hair. She pressed herself against you.

As you guided her head to your neck and closed your eyes, you slipped your hand under her nightdress to feel the skin of her shoulder. Brave? Or stupid? Wilhemina’s breath hitched.

She pressed herself deeper into you.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is dying, too.

**

“It’s alright,” you tried, both hands held up, wide eyes quickly shifting from Wilhemina’s face to the fragments of glass on the floor and her bare feet. “Be careful, I can take care of it.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she snapped. Her hand was pressed against her chest, fingers clutching the towel wrapped around her body as if it were the last remaining piece of her broken armor.

You winced.

“It’s alright,” you tried again. “I –”

“Get out!”  

You met her eyes again, wide with fear and fury because you had walked into the bedroom as she was getting dressed, and you had almost seen her, and in her hurry to hide from you she had knocked over the vase with the flowers that she had bought for you three days ago.

“Mina – ”

“Y/N if you do not get out of my sight in the next two seconds I will hurt you.” Voice breaking, hands shaking.

Still you hesitated.

Wilhemina grabbed a pillow – the beside lamp was nearer – and threw it at you.

“GET OUT!”

She never screamed. It was that scream that made you obey.

You stood behind the closed door and listened as she cried.

**

She didn’t believe that you could love her. And yet she felt it, in the way you kissed her, and she saw it shining in your eyes, and in your smile, and she heard it in your voice too. So she tried to find an explanation. You were lonely, in need of company, and a good actress. You were smitten and infatuation blinded you but it wouldn’t last. You were an angel. You had taken pity on her.

She couldn’t find a reason. Some nights it made her so angry she felt like smashing all your things or – even better – destroying herself. She wanted to hurt you and to pull the truth out of your throat so she would understand why and how you were smiling at her like that.

She didn’t believe that you would stay and she didn’t understand why you were here in the first place, but she found that she rather liked your presence. Loved. So she fought against her impulse to be mean and agreed to sometimes share a few things with you; things that lived at the surface, not the big, the dark, the important things that lived deep within her – there was no point sharing those. She hid those and she hid her shame so maybe you would stay a little longer than you had planned.  

It was selfish, she knew it. But she was way past selfishness.

**

You met her on a Saturday afternoon. It was the fall and outside the leaves were falling.

You were scrolling on your phone as you sat, bored, on a chair by the fitting rooms, waiting for your roommate who was trying on the new sexy underwear she’d need in case she successfully seduced the boy who had just moved in next door.

You were distracted by an unfamiliar sound, and looked up just as a woman walked in, supporting herself on a cane and looking as if she owned the whole world. It seemed to you even her nostrils flared a little, in outrage that some servant hadn’t sprayed myrrh or sandal wood in the air to celebrate her arrival.

You eyed her as she passed you, and quickly lowered your gaze as hers met yours. Her eyes were dark. Cold. Glazed.

This woman is scared, you thought, without knowing where the thought came from. She’s terrified.

Just as you were glancing up at her again, your roommate burst out from her fitting room with her arms thrown up in triumph and crashed right into the woman.

The shock sent her stumbling backwards, until her legs bumped into your knees and she fell onto your lap.

Instinctively your hands fell on either side of her waist to steady her, and you felt her flinch and tense up.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

And already she was pushing herself up onto her feet, and you sat as if petrified on your chair, your cheeks flushed, your hands still held up, the reminder of how she had felt burning low right under your skin.

Your roommate immediately walked up to the woman with an apologetic expression on her face and one hand raised as if to touch her shoulder, but she was stopped by the loud, threatening noise of her cane hitting the ground.

The sudden noise broke the trance you had fallen into. You jumped, remembered where you were, became aware that your roommate was wearing a low-cut black lace nightdress that barely hid her body. And the woman was staring at her with anger burning like a low fire in her eyes, but the rest of her face was completely blank, unreadable, terrible.

Your roommate cleared her throat, and decided her safest option was to ignore her. She turned to you, opened her arms and asked in a voice which, to her credit, barely shook at all: “How do I look?”

“Horrendous,” the woman said, her voice quiet and low but laced with contempt and mockery.

What happened next you saw as a movie on a big screen. It felt unreal, somehow, but most of all it felt scripted; part of you already knew exactly what your role would be. It didn’t ask for your approval. It just happened.

Your roommate turned back towards the woman, fists clenching and eyes shining. “Excuse me?” she said, not quiet as the woman had, but loud, and angry.

The woman smirked. “I said,” she answered, still as slowly, “you look horrendous.��

“Then why don’t you try it on and we’ll see if you look any better!” your roommate nearly screamed.

Your gaze was riveted on the woman’s face, and you saw something uneasy flicker in her eyes.

Your roommate saw it, too. Her confidence flared up.

“Come on,” she laughed, taking one step forward. “Go get one your size and put it on I dare you.”

At that exact moment a vendor walked in, alerted by the noise, to peer curiously at the scene. The woman quickly scanned his face, assessing danger.

“Do you ladies need anything?” the vendor asked.

“Yes,” your roommate roared, “another nightdress and then stay with us, you can be our judge, you can decide if she looks any better than me wearing it.”

“I think you look very good,” the vendor said to your roommate politely.

“Ah!” your roommate exulted, turning to the woman again, her eyes burning their way down to rest on her cane, and then up again to sneer, her face shining with the certainty of her triumph.  

That was when, as was scripted, you stood up. You didn’t become aware of your action until your roommate glanced curiously at you. And then you heard yourself speak, something about decency, about kindness, about you leaving if your roommate was going to be such an ass.

You didn’t know what you were saying. Your roommate’s expressions were your only guide. You saw surprise, and then anger. Her eyes narrowed a little. They told you it would take time for her to forgive such a betrayal.

Later, you would say that surely it had been fate pulling the strings. But back then, all that you knew was your body’s vibrating, burning, coming to life with the reminder of how the woman had felt.

**

“I didn’t need your help,” Wilhemina – Ms Venable? Wilhemina – snapped a few minutes later, as you walked out of the store together. The air was cold and already smelt of winter.

“Would you like to get a drink?” you heard yourself say.

She let out an incredulous laugh. “Certainly not.” Another laugh, eyes falling on your face, briefly, as if to make sure you were real.

“Does that mean I’ll never see you again?” was what you said next, and you would have blushed at the plea in your voice if you hadn’t been so intent on making her stay.

“We’ve barely talked,” Wilhemina said, face hardening, “why are you so interested in me?”

She was suspicious, wary, ready to jump at your throat. You didn’t know how to explain what was happening to you – the vibrating, the coming to life – without sounding like a complete fool.

“Let me walk you to your car,” you offered.  

Wilhemina hesitated. Nodded.

When you reached her car, she stood with her back to the door and you laughed nervously and started rambling about the weather because you didn’t want to see her go just yet. You said how autumn was your favorite season because of all the colors and of all the smells. You said you wanted a life full of falls. You said, Falls as in the season, but also as in falling in love. Here you averted your eyes and felt yourself blush.

It wasn’t you talking. It couldn’t be. It was too bold.

You looked up again and said, Why don’t we go on a walk? and don’t stop, until we’ve found a leaf the exact same color as your hair.

At this very moment the breeze blew into Wilhemina’s eyes a strand of hair that had escaped her impeccable ponytail, and she raised her hand to brush it away, fingers gracefully grazing her skin with just a touch of annoyance, and you thought  - Dear Lord, you thought, as one thinks who has just fallen in love.

But you didn’t believe in love at first sight, you reminded yourself. What was it, then? You had seen the dragon and you had seen the princess and they were the same.

But you were no hero. Curiosity? Or your soul whispering to her soul?

But wasn’t that love?

You took a peek. There was inside you the irresistible desire to know everything about her.

You insisted you gave her your number and she accepted it “to get rid of you.”

On the third day after that, she called you.

**

The full moon had risen a few minutes ago and the night shadows had retreated into the corners, where they lurked. You shifted closer to Wilhemina and nuzzled her neck with your nose.

“I’m sorry about the vase,” she whispered. You hummed. Her hand fell on your head. I’m sorry I snapped at you.

You pulled away to meet her eyes, and traced her brow with your thumb. The moonlight painted her in black and silver.

You trailed your finger over her shoulder and stopped at the collar of her nightdress.

“Will you let me see you?” you asked.

You were not sure you were brave enough to watch. But you asked anyway.

Her eyes met yours again. “Don’t forget the story of Lot’s wife,” she answered. “Orpheus and Eurydice. Medusa.”

You planted a kiss on her cheek.

“What these stories teach me is that everyone looks.”

“And they all die.”

“No. They all turn into something else.”

“Eurydice dies,” Wilhemina insisted.

“Are you afraid I’ll die if I see you?”

She shook her head. She let go of you. “It’s not the one who sees that dies. It’s the one who is seen.”

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

You propped yourself up on one elbow to watch her as she got up and crossed the room to the window. She closed it against the cold.

“Are you afraid I’ll leave you?” you insisted.

“I like you blind,” she said.

“But I’d love to see you.”

She turned, gave you a smile that shone a little defiantly. “When Oedipus finally saw, he stabbed himself in the eyes.”

You fell back on the bed with a groan. “Enough with mythology. We aren’t gods. We aren’t heroes.” You opened your arms to hold her close as she slowly made her way back to bed.

**

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” you asked, bending to avoid a branch full of golden and red leaves.

“I do,” Wilhemina answered. “I spent yesterday evening reading about mushrooms.”

You grinned at her.

“One of us had to make sure we won’t die intoxicated,” she said, a little coldly.

“That’s very noble of you,” you teased.

This was about a month after you two had first met. You now spent most of your spare time together. Wilhemina had even stopped doing extra hours at work to spend them with you instead. Your roommate barely saw you anymore. She had complained about your absence and asked whether she should look for someone else.

You had always craved a strong connection with someone, and it seemed you had finally found it. You didn’t need words to communicate with Wilhemina, as if your soul and her soul were made of the same stuff. You could point at a star in the night sky and knew she felt the same about it. Knew you were understood.  

You wanted to spend every second of every day with her.

Two nights ago, you had kissed her. You hadn’t expected it of yourself. It was too brave, too bold. That’s how you knew that you loved her.

She had frozen with her hand on your thigh, eyes wide open, breath caught in her throat, until suddenly something had changed and she had turned ravenous. She had kissed you back as if you were the ghost of a long-lost lover she was about to lose again, and the desperation she had poured into your mouth had made you fear that this was too much for one person to bear; too much need, too much anger, too much love required to fill the gaping, sucking black hole inside her. You had broken the kiss, panting, and almost run away. But the way she had held on to your wrist, the way she had looked at you, the feel of her on your lips – you had stayed.

None of you had mentioned the kiss since then. She seemed to be waiting for you to make the next move, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. Weren’t sure you were brave enough.

“Look here,” Wilhemina said, pointing at a small cluster of brown mushrooms half hidden under dead leaves.

You crouched down to examine them. “Yes,” you smiled, “these look like penny buns.”

You picked one for Wilhemina to look at.

“Butter, garlic and parsley,” you grinned, watching her as she inspected the mushroom, held delicately between two fingers. “One or two potatoes.”

Wilhemina hummed and cautiously put the mushroom in the basket she was holding.

You took the basket from her so you could hold her hand as you walked slowly down the path. Wilhemina glanced sideways at you, as if to make sure ill intent wasn’t shining in your eyes, before she pushed her palm against yours and laced her fingers with yours.

After a few minutes you stopped looking for mushrooms and gazed up at the beautiful leaves instead. The air was cold and crisp, and smelt of damp earth and decaying leaves. Every so often the sound of something falling – a dead branch, an acorn – reached your ears.

Wilhemina’s heart was drumming against your palm. Was it your touch, you wondered, that made it beat so fast?

She wasn’t looking at the ground either. She kept glancing at you. You knew this, because you kept glancing at her, too, and more than once you found her gaze already on your face. The first time your eyes met, you both blushed, and if Wilhemina quickly looked away, you found it impossible not to gaze at the dusting of pink on her cheeks.

“Look,” you breathed.

On your left between two oak trees was a small, round, dark pond. Its surface was half covered with leaves and you wouldn’t have noticed it at all if the wind hadn’t blown the branches above and sunlight hadn’t caught it. Wilhemina and you paused at the edge of it, hand in hand, to look at your reflections in the dark water.

“It looks like a fairy pond,” you whispered.

Wilhemina hummed her assent. You stroked your thumb over hers as you stared at her reflection, fully clothed, tall but with the edges trembling.  

“If we stay here long enough maybe we’ll see a doe.”

“You’d never have the patience,” Wilhemina teased.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I would if we had something to do to keep each other busy.”

Something, very close, fell from a tree.

It felt like dissolving into the golden light – like becoming part of something beautiful – when Wilhemina gently pressed her lips to yours. The basket stood between you two, so she hastily set it down on the ground before she captured your lips again, shyly, so very delicately it made you tremble. As if you were something precious. Something to be treasured.

It was this gentleness that made you kiss her back.

When you broke the kiss, Wilhemina squinted in the sunlight that fell through the branches and directly into her eyes. Dear you, she looked so scared. You wanted to push her, to make her fall so she would know you would always catch her. You wanted her to do the same to you.

You started walking again. You were both so focused on the other that you forgot the basket. You remembered it five minutes later. You found it funny; Wilhemina’s jaw tightened with anger. It had never happened to her before, she assured you. She didn’t forget things. The implication made her shiver.  

You walked back to the pond and found the basket on the moss where you had left it.

**

From where you were lying between her legs, you slipped your hand under her shirt to feel the warm softness of her tummy.

“Don’t you sometimes wish you didn’t have a body?” she asked.

You glanced up at her sleepily. She was reading your book, the one you had finished just a few days ago – you wondered if it was the same sentence that had caused her to stop.

You dropped a kiss on her hip. “I rather like having a body,” you answered. “And I love that you have one yourself. How would I kiss you otherwise?”

“Without a body, you wouldn’t need or want to kiss me.”

You considered, hand absentmindedly stroking her tummy.

“I don’t know,” Wilhemina went on. She was thumbing the book nervously, her eyes a little glazed. “It seems to me the body only brings its owner pain.”

“But I love your body,” you retorted.

“I am sick of it,” she said. “I am sick of the competition that comes with it. The pain, the probing, the examination.”

You watched her in silence. How could you tell her that some days when you woke up before dawn you would spend long minutes delighting in the sight of her body? And that you would press your lips on her skin to kiss, not who she was, but the body that you loved.

You took the book from her (you were starting to think that giving it to her in the first place hadn’t been the brightest of ideas. She had never told you the kind of surgeries she had undergone, the kind of names she had been called. You didn’t like the look on her face now) and put your arms around her waist. You pressed your cheek against her thigh and closed your eyes.

“I don’t like my body (she knew this already. You’d told her before). I think it’s too flat. And yet you find it beautiful. Maybe that’s mankind’s curse. Maybe that’s beauty’s curse. The beautiful doesn’t know it’s beautiful until someone comes along and tells it so.”

She started running her fingers through your hair, and you opened your eyes to find her gazing at you with a fond and thoughtful smile. She checked herself when your eyes met. Her face hardened a little.

“No need,” you smiled.

And then you were crawling up the bed, planting kisses on the strip of skin between her panties and her shirt, and then up her cleavage, smiling when she pushed her head back to give you better access to her neck. You twisted a strand of her hair around your finger – hair let down, only for you – and slid your other hand down to cup her center, determined to take her mind off the horrors she had read, or been reminded of.

You had made love before, but never entirely exposed, never entirely seen. Part of you loved it. Another part of you hated that you loved it. That part wanted you to stop being cowardly and to take the jump. To fall. Tear off the sheet, tear down the tower’s walls.

What terrified you the most was, there would be no going back, the day she would show you her back.

Your fingers started massaging her clit over her panties.

“How would you be able to feel me if you didn’t have a body?” you breathed, lips planting open-mouthed kisses up her neck.  

Wilhemina’s only answer was a small, breathy whimper. She lifted her hips to push against your hand.  

**

You followed the sound of her voice to her bedroom. She sounded afraid. You hurried.

“Y/N?”

“I’m right here,” you called, as your hand closed around the door handle. “Is today the day I’m going to,learn you’re terribly scared of spiders?” you joked, to try and curb the worry in you.

You pushed the door open, walked in and stopped as if suddenly turned into stone.

Wilhemina was standing with her back to you, facing the mirror on the wall. She was wearing the low-cut nightdress your roommate had dared her to try on all those months ago at the store. She was trembling.

You held her gaze in the mirror, unable to breathe, heart speeding up until all you could hear was its mad, terrified, elated gallop.

For a moment you stood completely still, not daring to look at her back, until the fear in Wilhemina’s eyes threatened to spill over, and you took a step forward.

Gently you gathered her hair in one hand and pushed it over her shoulder. Wilhemina’s gaze in the mirror glazed over, looked through you and at a place where she was safe and numb.

You took a deep breath. You watched.

A shiver ran through you as your gaze followed the diverted course of her spine, skin pulled taut over the bones. For a moment you watched with the awe-stricken eyes of one who is shown a terrible thing, terrible yet fascinating, for the watcher is safe from it. Then you swallowed, and forced your attention back on the importance of the moment.

You were still not breathing as you trailed your fingertips down her back to the black lace hugging her waist, and then back up again, lingering this time, stroking every scar.

Wilhemina’s breath hitched when you pressed your lips on her spine. Grazing her skin, planting a kiss. You rested your chin on her shoulder and waited for her to come back to you, pressing your front against her back to show her you were not disgusted, not disappointed, not running away.  

When her gaze turned clear enough for her to see you again, you offered her a tender smile, and stroked up and down her arms.

Wilhemina drew in air through her teeth. “This kind of nightdress wasn’t made for people like me,” she breathed out.

“Nonsense,” you cut her off. “You look beautiful.”

And dear you, she did, with her eyes barely guarded now and the lace barely hiding the swell of her breasts, nipples peaking under the delicate fabric. Your arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer against you.

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. She was still trembling against you.

“How are you feeling?”

She let out a self-deprecatory laugh. “Like I don’t want to be here.” She took hold of one of your hands. Her eyes glossed over.

“Does it terrify you,” you breathed, trailing your lips down her neck, “to know that I have seen you and found you beautiful?” A pause. Your heart was beating too fast. “That I have seen you and decided to stay?”

In the silence that followed you heard your words echo all around you. You had expected each one of them to sow a grain of fear inside you. That wasn’t what happened. Instead each one of them pulled up a fear sprout that had already been sown inside you.

Wilhemina’s eyes met yours in the mirror to share her surprise. For she was – okay? There had been no harsh landing? She let her body relax and she realized that, even though her mind was still very anxiously expecting danger, she wasn’t hurting. She was okay.

Tag list: @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss  @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills @billiedeansbottom @lilypadscoven @winslctrg @simpforpaulson @venablesgirl @mckennamayfairgoode  @ka-s @lntlmate @talulahmae @mrsdeanhoward

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[gildedbarbarian]

I mentioned this last night (kinda), but I think I want to talk a little bit about why Eddie Munson means so much to me. Just like... so it’s out there, I guess. Idk.

TW for HOSPITALIZATION, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, TRAUMA, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, PANIC ATTACKS, IMPLIED SELF HARM

To start off, a little background: I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety since I was a kid. That’s always been there, and honestly I don’t know what my life looks like without it. But to be honest, the last few years have been some of the best and worst of my life. It all kind of came to a head on May 25th of this year. I was in a therapy session explaining the severity of some of my intrusive thoughts and how I planned to handle them, when... my therapist told me that, in no uncertain terms, I needed to go get a mental health evaluation. That night. No waiting. It was one of the scariest moments of my life, I won’t lie to y’all. I couldn’t pretend things weren’t bad anymore, and I was forced to confront it against my own will. 

I was there for a good bit of the night with my roommates, but ultimately it was decided that I would enroll in a Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP). This meant starting off with 6 hours a day in a mental health facility 5 days a week for at least 2 weeks and then transitioning to 3 hours a day, 5 days a week for at least 4 more weeks (Intensive Outpatient Program, or IOP). Volume 1 of Season 4 came out 2 days after my evaluation. The plan had always been to sit down with my roommates and binge it, get through everything as fast as we could, but what I really desperately needed at that point was a sense of control, and my go-to was escapism. 

It didn’t take long for Eddie to become my favorite new character of the season. By his second scene, I was completely and utterly sold. Not only did I think he was adorable and sweet and pretty and all of those things, but there was also this part of me that looked at him and felt... seen. I don’t know how else to put it. I looked at this disastrous, indulgent freak of a man (affectionate) who was judged for the way he presented and the things he liked and the place he came from and saw... so many parts of myself. I saw my own desperate fight to be difficult to swallow, to look at. It was a little bit like looking at who I wish I’d been in high school, rather than the meek little girl I’d actually been. 

I started PHP the following Tuesday, still fairly convinced that I didn’t need nearly as much help as anyone else there. I didn’t feel like I was above them or better than anyone, but I still thought I had my shit together. That illusion was pretty much shattered by day 3. And see the thing about it all is that I find parts of myself in fictional characters and latch onto them for all they’re worth. Some of them are stronger than others, but like... really and truly, there are fictional characters that have changed my life. As I started to really dig into my trauma and unearth and remember shit that I didn’t... even know existed, didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to have anything to do with. As I was having panic attacks and struggling to feel safe in my own body and effectively, dramatic as it sounds, grappling with whether or not I had a future now that I was staring down my past, Eddie came up a lot. One of the therapists in the program really took to that and helped push me to look at what that meant for myself. How seeing the best and the worst of myself in Eddie wasn’t a bad thing. 

I ended up getting his bat tattoo on my arm for my birthday. I rewatched Volume 1 four times before Volume 2 even came out. I memorized his scenes, I scrambled for every scrap of content I could get, gripping on with everything I had. Eddie, really and truly, became a fundamental part of my recovery process. Without that character as a metaphor, as a lifeline, as something to lean on (along with my genuinely fucking incredible support system), I don’t know if I would have made it through all 8 weeks of that program. And if I didn’t make it through all 8 weeks of that program, there’s a really good chance that I wouldn’t have made it to today. 

Especially now, knowing that so many of the parts of Eddie that fed into my attachment to him came from Joe, I feel... so singularly grateful to him as a person. I really hope one day I’m able to thank him for what he did with Eddie, because I’m not joking or being dramatic when I say that Eddie Munson may have genuinely saved my life. 

Anyway, that’s the bare bones (kinda?) of my story. I just felt kind of compelled to share. So thanks for reading, if you made it through the whole thing. I love you guys. 

[cherri-cherri]

Pairings - Yuuji Itadori x Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Synopsis - Ever since Yuuji moved away to Tokyo, you've been noticing some odd changes from him, it's almost as if...he was becoming another person all together.

Theme - Monster by Imagine Dragons

A/N - An idea hit me in the head while I was working and I wanted to try this out so badly with both Yuuji and Sukuna! A concept of 'What if the vessel wasn't just the vessel?'. The vessel would eventually merged with the being to become something new altogether, and I thought...yes. why the heck not. This is gonna be a long one, So let's hop right it! Because I really like this idea, theres a good chance this is going to be either split up into parts or I'm gonna keep visiting this every now and then.

Warning - The characters in this story will be aged up due to NSFW content here. Dirty NSFW scenes sprinkled in, Gore Warning, Abuse, Etc.

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He didnt want this...

All he wanted was to keep those he cared about safe. Lying to you at the time seemed like a good idea, especially since you weren't tied into the mystical world he was now tied to, and he didn't want you too. But now, perhaps he should've told you everything.

About the finger, about the school, and...

About Sukuna.

You couldn't exactly remember why you originally said yes to the pink haired boy when he asked you to join his occult club activities that night. Maybe it was because of the fact you have nothing really better to do, or maybe because traveling through a forest of possible gruesome death seemed the most attractive thing to you at the time, yet you an Yuuji grew close together that night. Truth be told, walking through those woods during the dead of night was actually creepier than you thought but he was there by your side to comfort you the entire time, holding your hand while cracking a few jokes every now and then to calm your nerves.

"You're not scared? You seem so..well calm?" You asked, looking up at Yuuji with furrowed brows as he just smiled down at you. "Nah, not really. It's just darker and a few trees are around. Not really anything scary, right?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck while chuckling.

Maybe it was because of the warmth of his hands wrapped around your own or how comforting the presence he gave off was to you but it was probably then that your feelings for Yuuji began to grow.

"What you're going to Tokyo?" You questioned, watching Yuuji prepared a few boxes to pack his things. "Yeah, transferring schools. I'm, um .. I'm recieving a sports scholarship at a school there." Placing a few more of things away was when he finally turned to see you, clearly upset over just now being told this. Sure, you should've been happy to see your best friend be able to leave to accomplish more out of his life but it was the thought of him leaving you here that hurt the most. When he saw your face and the conflicted look on it, Yuuji stepped over towards you before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in your embrace.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just—" before he could finish his sentence, you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck and simply smiled to him. "You don't have to say a thing, Yuuji, I'm happy for you. Just promise me that you'll stay safe out there for me, 'kay?"

Your words alone reminded him why he had to leave, why he had to go and leave you here. It was to keep you safe, safe from curses and safe from the curse lying dormant inside of him now. "R-right...Thank you, Y/N"

The school days were quiet once when Yuuji transferred schools. Sadly enough, the occult club had to disband after he left due to them not having enough members with Iguchi still hospitalized. Now it just seemed..boring without him there but he still seemed to have brighten your day with the photos he would send you every day of the bright city lights and bustling streets. His little messages and calls always well timed to reassure you that just because you aren't blocks away from each other anymore doesn't mean you won't still be friends.

So far, you've became pretty happy with Yuuji and how he's able to come so far in Tokyo. He speaks greatly about his sensei and his new classmates known as Fushiguro and Kugasaki, who from the sound of it, are a bit of a handle but great friends who still treat him well. Every week when he had his day off, he would spend time on video call to talk to you and even show you cool things that he either found around the city or around the school's campus.

Tonight however..he was late. Sure, it didn't bother you really if he was punctual or on time since this was Yuuji we were talking about here but there was a tad bit of worry lingering in your head. Soon enough, as soon as that ugly feeling of worry and doubt began to surface, Yuuji's icon appeared on the screen on the laptop as it began to ring to which you quickly opened.

"Yuuji, hey— oh my god, your face." You said right away, gasping a little at the cuts and bruises littered not only on his face but from the looks of it, his arms and shoulders too. Has he been fighting? "What? Oh, oh! These! Yeah, Fushiguro and Gojou-Sensei kinda roughen me up a little today during training but it's no sweat, really! Barely feel a thing," Yuuji tried to give you a reassuring smile while patting his right shoulder only to wince a little in pain from the impact of the pat.

"First the weird scars on your face, now bruises? Dude, I get that this is a sports thing but don't you think it's a little extreme?"

Hearing the worry in your voice, Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand nervously as he tried to think of a way to reassure you until a deep voice came from that same hand, chuckling softly.

"What's this? A woman talking to the brat...? How amusing." Sukuna.

Hearing the voice, Yuuji instantly flinched and lowered his arms out of the camera's view. Panic shot through his body as you stared at the screen with a raised brow. "Oh, is someone there with you now? Didn't know you had a roommate."

Oh good, you didn't see him. It wasn't as if he was afraid of you meeting Sukuna, he was afraid of telling you the truth about everything. About how he was now a vessel for ancient being, how he was studying cursed energy and jujutsu, how he died yet came back to life..dumping so much on you with the chance that you might never speak to him again out of fear, out of disgust. That you stop being his friend, and that he would never..he would never—

"Yuuji?" Tapping the screen a little on your laptop as it shook the camera, he soon stared back at you and laughed nervously. "O-oh right, he's only here for a little bit of time, so I figured what's really the point in telling you"

"Really now? Could've swore I was here to stay with you forever. You could at least introduce me to your friend here." Sukuna felt a great amusement watching Yuuji squirm just to keep you in the dark. Yuuji quickly began stammering on his words, throwing you off as he made a quick excuse to leave the call early. Before you could even say a single word, he clicked ended the facetime before sighing to himself and leaning back against his chair.

"...What is the point in keeping me hidden? We are practically one now, me as you and you as me, Brat." Sukuna said, his mouth now appearing on the left side of his cheek with the eyelid opening to stare up at the boy. "Are you scared of me paying your little toy a visit? Young and no doubt a virgin, I could have some fun with her—" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand against the mouth in attempt to hush the curse only for Sukuna to migrate to the hand.

"I won't let that happen, Sukuna." Yuuji said, frowning as he heard the curse chuckle. He didn't like the sound of how he described his bond to the soul sleeping inside of him, how they were one in the same. Shaking his head, the boy tried to reassure himself that he was nothing like Sukuna and simply went to turn off the lights and sleep on it. The last thing he heard before slumber took him were the ominous words of Sukuna,

"You'll see I was right soon enough, brat..."

A week later, Yuuji came back home to visit you. It was one of the days where the school allowed their students a break from their studies and classes and so he wanted to spend it with you as a surprise. And indeed you were surprised. When you had rushed downstairs, you did so wearing only a red sleeved t-shirt that the pink haired male might have left behind with a pair of gray shorts, and so when you opened the door to see the cheery face of your best friend well...it may have left you a bit flustered.

"Hey, Y/—" you quickly shut the door in his face, collapsing on your knees as you felt your cheeks beginning to burn. 'Why of all days, Itadori?!' You thought to yourself as she slowly stood back up and cracked the door open to see Yuuji's baffled face. He looked like a puppy..a sad puppy who was just kicked off his owner's bed and it broke you. Before long, he was now in your house and sitting in the living room couch while you were in the kitchen preparing tea. Your father was currently away on business while god knows what your mother was..it was just the two of you.

And it was awkward.

As you prepared tea on the kettle, Yuuji couldn't help but look at the shirt you were wearing as a small pink blush was lightly spreading on his cheeks. In a way, it filled him with a strange feeling seeing you walking around in something of his, seeing you wearing his shirt made him..prideful. didn't help with how short your shorts were either, it was practically hugging onto your as—

"So, it's just you? Dude, you should've told me you were coming! I would've been more prepared..I barely have any snacks or anything here right now." You grumbled, snapping his attention away to listen to what you were saying. "Hey, no worries, Y/N. Honestly, I'm just hungry for something else..." that last part through him off as he covered his mouth. That wasn't his voice. No, it was but that wasn't him speaking.

As he turned his head to the side to the balcony door, there the boy saw it in his reflection. The eye of Sukuna staring right back at him, causing him to quickly cover the eye.

"Huh? Alright, well what are you hungry for? Theres probably some ramen around here someone or we could just go out to a place to eat if you want.." you questioned, back turned away from him as you began to take the now whistling kettle off the stove. No, he couldn't deal with this now, not while you were only feet away from him. Yet the more he watched you in the reflection, the more he saw your curves in those pretty little shorts or your braless breasts bounce with ease under his stolen shirt...

Shaking his head, Yuuji soon stood up from the couch and placed on his jacket. "I'm sorry, N/N, But I have to go—"

"Wait what but–"

"Sorry, u-um, Gojou-Sensei said something came up and I have to go back! I'm sorry but I'll make it up to you— I promise!" Before you could even protest, he was already out of the door and gone. As he left, you could've swore you saw an eye on his cheek where one of his scars were but that was impossible, right?

-----------------------

He honestly had no idea where he was going to run off to but the boy knew that if Sukuna had a chance to take over and you were in front of him, would've hurt you or worse. Seeing your disappointed face yet again almost shattered his heart completely and when Yuuji finally came to a halt, he found himself beside a small stream and sighed. This was all for the best. It was to keep you safe, or so he kept telling himself.

"Damn, to think you would actually run away when she was begging for you to take her there. What a wimp.." Sukuka said, mouth manifesting on Yuuji's neck as his eye looks up at frowning boy. "Its not often you get an open invitation from a woman. If I was in control, I would've taken her then and there and ram my co‐" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand over the mouth as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, him now thinking back to you and how pretty you looked wearing his shirt. "S-shut up. Don't go saying such gross crap."

"You know you feel the same. I can see that she affects you even now judging by the sight of your pants. You wanted to stuff her with your seed just as much as I did." Sukuna said, the mouth now on his hand. Much to Yuuji's surprise, his dark brown eyes quickly shot down to his pants and just as Sukuna said, there was a raging boner standing up at attention. Swallowing his guilt, he tried to cover it only for his pinky finger to slowly graze the fabric and giving his cock a small jolt. The boy hissed a little and quickly placed his hands to his side.

"I-i..I just.." "No need to be embarrassed. That girl isn't anything typically special but just seeing her, seeing her ass in such revealing clothing. Women of this era must be extremely dirty~" Sukuna chuckled "and hearing your thoughts, you certainly surprised me, Brat..." the more Sukuna spoke, the more Yuuji thought back to you. Seeing your breasts and ass was truthfully hot, even if you weren't exactly his type, he still found you beautiful. Slowly without him even noticing, his hand slowly motioned for his cock once more and in the silence of the forest, Yuuji Itadori thought only of you during his time in pleasure.

-----------------------

It wasn't until later on into the night that Yuuji had finally texted you back, saying he would back tomorrow to make things up with you. Sure, it did cheer you up that he would be back but the way he was acting lately made you feel like something was wrong. If you ever asked, he would change the subject or just smile at you awkwardly as if admitting to hiding something but you won't force him tell you what was wrong. When He was ready, he would tell you for sure and you'll wait for however long he wanted.

"N/N, Everything alright?" Yuuji asked, gaining your attention as you snapped back to the present and out of your thoughts. Looking around, you found yourself staring ahead at a bag of popcorn and the large bright ights of a ferris wheel constantly in motion. That's right, the local fairgrounds, Yuuji had wanted to go one more time before he returned back to Tokyo and since you always liked the food here, you of course said yes. "O-oh, yeah! I'm fine. Just looking ahead at the wheel. Remember last time we were here some kid ended up puking on Sasaki from a cart above us?"

"Haha! Yeah, she smelled of salty tuna for weeks afterwards and it left a stain on her uniform" He laughed, staring at the wheel as he thought about the memory. As you stared at him and watch his smile, it had then reassured you that this was still your best friend and you smiled back. For a moment, the two of you were having a blast at the small fair, playing some of the games set up by the booths (and being turned away after Yuuji broke a few with his strength..) it felt like old times all over again. "Wanna play another game or play at bumper carts? We still have some time to kill before you gotta go back?" You asked, carrying some of the plushie prizes the two of you (mainly Yuuji) earned, you looked over to your side and saw a cotton candy display before your attention turns back to Yuuji, The two of you decided just for a moment to sit down at a small metal bench to rest your feet for a moment

Seeing the display, an idea popped up in his head and the words of Gojou appeared in his mind. 'You want advice on how to swoon a girl? Well take small hints when she gives them to you, if her eyes are lingering on something then that's probably a sign she wants it—'. Seeing as how you kept looking up at the cotton candy, he thought this might have been his chance and sat down his own plushies. Without saying a word, Yuuji got up and walked over to the stand, leaving you there by the table alone with your horde of plush creatures.

Seeing you seating there at the bench by yourself, a group of punks who looked to be close to your age strolled up to you, two of them taking a seat on each side of you while the third one was standing right behind you. "Fine evening, isn't it, love. What's a sweet little thing like you doing here by yourself, you looking for some fun?" The purple haired male said on your left side, lowering his shades as he stared noticeably at your chest. "Actually, I'm here with a friend and this seat is for him so if you could jus—" "oh a 'friend'? But I don't see this friend now, so maybe you could tag along with us back to our place and we'll show you a fun time." The punk behind you said, his hands now pressed firmly on both of your shoulders as he leaned in a bit closer to you, causing you to flinch at his touch. "I, um.."

"N/N?"

Turning your head back to in front of you, you saw Yuuji there holding a blue and pink cotton candy stick and face emotionles. "N/N, huh? That's a cute name. This your friend, N/N?" The purple haired punk said, chuckling while rising from his seat "....." Yuuji remained silent for a bit as he stared off at the hands touching you, gripping onto your shoulder and clearly making you uncomfortable. He was typically known for being a calm guy but see this angered him beyond words.

'You see what they're doing to your woman, brat? You're just going to let it happen..?' Yuuji heard the inner words of Sukuna in his head, his eyes dart away from you to the guy standing in front of him, smirking as he touch the cotton candy from the pink haired boy's hand and taking a large bite of the webby treat. "This doesnt have to get rough, all you need to do is walk away and we'll show N/N-chan here a good time she'll never forget." He said, licking his tongue over his lips.

As Yuuji's lips parted, he heard a groan coming from you as you squirmed in the other guys hold with the second punk was now leaning into your neck. Seeing your frown of discomfort, they way they were touching what was rightful his , All he needed to hear were those small words from Sukuna.

'They're touching your woman, they're hurting her. Finish.. them.. off.'

Yuuji stood there for a moment, remaining silent as he lowered his hand, a shadow now cast over his face. Opening one of your eyes as you squirm in the punk's hold, you saw something that made your heart almost stop beating altogether. That smile on his face, that malevolent smile and empty eyes as he held onto the purple haired Male's now broken arm.

The next thing was a blur. The screams of your harassers echoed around you and you heard a wet sound looping over and over again as well as hard thuds. Opening your eyes, you saw it. Two of the thugs bloodied and bruised as their limbs were bent in ways you couldn't imagine, one of them dangling up above you on a tree branch while the other one was limp inside of the cotton candy stand. Looking around for the third one, you saw him behind held against one of the food stands while Yuuji was there gripping his hand over the punk's neck. You couldn't exactly show him any mercy and yet Yuuji was clearly taking things too far, even when the guy tried to beg for mercy and claw his way out of your friend's hold, all Yuuji did was stand there with a grin you've never seen before. It wasnt one of his innocent smiles or mischievous grins, no, it was one of pure sadism. "P-please stop, I'm sorry..I'm sorry.." "you didn't stop when she wanted you too, So why should I?" Yuuji tilted his head to the side a little, chuckling a little as his grip tightened and the man gasped out for air "you'll pay for what you did. You'll all fucking pay..."

The air in your chest almost stopped filling your lungs completely as you watch this. That wasn't the Yuuji you knew, he would've never went this far just to prove a point! Slowly taking a step forward and then another and then slowly speeding up, you reached out and held onto the arm Yuuji was holding the punk up with. "Yuuji, stop it! You'll kill him if you keep this up!" You yelled only to feel a blow strike your face and send you tumbling back a few feet, causing you to scream out in pain. "Stay out of this." Was all he said until freezing and slowly turning back to see what he had done.

Crimson was spilling from your nose onto your shirt and it was gushing out by the bucket to which you quickly covered as you stared up at Yuuji with teary eyes. Regret instantly overwhelmed him as he dropped the thug and slowly reached over to you, his senses coming back to him. "N/N?" He questioned, almost checking to see if you were alright but you backed away as he stepped over to you. What has he done..? Why did he..? He watched you slowly back away with each step, fear in your bright (E/C) eyes and it broke him. "Hey, w-what's wrong? I was only trying to protect them from you, you don't have to be scared."

As people began to crowd in, brought in by the noise of fighting and your scream, Yuuji hand ghosted over the skin of yourself shoulder and you flinched. You flinched at his touch..So many feelings began to overwhelm him that he didn't notice the look of horror in your eyes as you watched what thought were scars slowly twitch and open up, revealing bright red eyes staring directly at you.

"They were going to hurt you," 'She's scared of you now after all you've done' "I saved you! They won't touch you like that again!" 'She sees you for what you are, brat.' "I just wanted to keep you safe!" With each yell, Yuuji watched as you grew more and more scared, the people around all of you terrified as they watched and some even grabbing whatever they could that could be a weapon. Gripping his head as he felt an intense pain through his skull, it was then he noticed..how small you looked as he towered over you. When did you get so small? He thought to himself, bending down to grab you when he saw his arm.

His nails were a dark purple shade, sharper and three black markings were on his wrist. Turning his head a little to one of the booth's and staring into the window was when the truth hit Yuuji hard. His body was different and taller now for some reason and Sukuna's markings were slowly appearing over his face. He was..slipping?

"Y-yuuji, what the hell is happening to you.." he heard you whisper yet before he could respond, there was the sharp pain of something blunt hitting his shoulder. Looking to his feet, he saw a medium sized rock and there another and another. The people were launching what they could at him, yelling at him to leave the girl alone and to leave. Yelling for his death, calling him a monster, calling him a curse. He stared at you for a moment, seeing how now tears leaking from your eyes and Yuuji stepped away before fleeing.

"Yuuji, wait!!" He heard your frantic yell from behind him but it didn't slow him down as he kept running further into the distance and leaving you behind. Your yells becoming drowned out by the mad laughter of Sukuna echoing in his mind.

-----------------------

No, he didn't want this at all. The day was meant to go differently, it was meant to be just the two of you having fun together and end with the ferris wheel and him finally telling you that he...

Thunder crackled outside of the decrepit shrine the boy had taken shelter in, rain pouring outside by the gallons. As he watched the raindrops in silence, Yuuji saw how the scenery slowly began to shift around him as the sky became more malevolent and the cold concrete he was sitting on now a pool of crimson water with piles on top of piles of bones surrounded him. The memories of the fairground echoed in his mind over and over again on loop of him hitting you and your look of fear haunting him, causing his eyes to water.

"Aw, are you going to cry, brat..?"

Yuuji remained silent as he waited for Sukuna to appear at any moment, yet he never came, only his voice lingered around him. "This is all of your fault.." Yuuji whispered, staring off into the rain. "My fault? I don't understand. If I recall, you were to one who eat my finger. You were the one who signed up for being my vessel, everything that has been done was all you..I merely watched from here."

"Bullshit! You made me hurt her..you made me like this!" Yuuji screamed out, flashes of who he did to those thugs showing through his mind, "You made me hurt them!"

"...No, that was all you. You can blame me all you want but I felt what you felt, saw what you saw and you loved every second of that fight. Whipping those who displease you in place, kicking the asses of the men who touched what was yours. Gotta say, made me tear up watching everything unfold" Hear the curse's chuckle echo around in the shrine, Yuuji quickly stood up and yelled out for Sukuna to show himself, only for him to collapse on his knees when feeling an sharp pain in his torso.

"No need to show myself, I'm already with you as close as I can."

Gritting his teeth in pain it was then that Yuuji saw his reflection staring back at him in the water, grinning ear to ear with malice in those sharp fangs.

"You see , Brat, becoming my vessel didn't just mean I was trapped inside of you..no no..You would slowly become me. Your small soul means shit compared to mine and it will be swallowed whole by me. I just needed us to be bound for some time and you would be mine..."

As the reflection spoke to him, Yuuji screamed out in pain as he felt his bones inside of him crack and twist as if they were rearranging themselves. His stomach felt as if it was being cut open entirely as the flesh began to slowly pull apart while tearing open the yellow hoodie in the process, the meat of his torso was forced open as a tongue lulled out and licked his abs like they were lips. The sides of his waist felt as if someone was taking a pair of axes and were merely swinging it down as flesh began to bubble through and bones formed one by one until two new pair of arms were fully shaped. Taking a deep breath, Yuuji slowly chuckled as one of his hands reached up to his head and gripped it and the others wrapped around his waist.

"N-no..no..i.."

"You should be honoured, Yuuji. You get the privilege of becoming one with me, my power is now yours and yours mine." His lips, against his will, began to speak the words of Sukuna as they formed into a forced grin. "N-no..I haven't told her yet. I haven't told N/N that I love—"

"Yuuji?"

Once when he blinked, Yuuji found himself no longer in the shrine but sitting inside of his desk in his old desk with you standing beside him. Seeing you before him, safe and smiling at him, the boy quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around you which took you for surprise in the process but you simply allowed him to let it all out when you hugged him back. "Well hello to you too, welcome back to earth, how was your trip to space..?" You said, chuckling before feeling something wet on your shoulders. His tears.

"Y/N..I..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, I should've told you everything. I should'nt have hit you. I just wanted to protect you because...because...I love you!" His words surprised you but you simply smile. "I love you too, Yuuji."

Staring back down at the reflection before him of the boy hugging onto you tightly as he weeped, dark brown eyes shift to that of a bright velvet shade. Sukuna chuckled while stretching out his newly formed body. How good it felt to be back in control, to have actual flesh again and to see this brand new world all to himself. Sure, his power was not what it used to be but he would regain all of his fingers soon enough. As his domain faded away and he found himself back in the decrepit old shrine, he smirked to himself while debating his next order of business.

"Y/N L/N...Maybe I should do this body a favor and seize you for my own."

-----------------------

He wouldn't answer any of your calls or texts. No one has heard or seen of him but now there was a witch hunt for your best friend. As you laid in your dimly lit bedroom with bandages over your nose, you stared down at your phone anxiously awaiting something from Yuuji.

Ring~~~

Ring~~~

Hearing the sound of your phone vibrating, you quickly shot up from the covers an grabbed the phone, unlocking it right away and placing it to your ear.

"Hello?" There was nothing but silence on the other end, the soft howling of the wind being the other thing you could really make out. "Hello..?"

"N/N.." your heart practically stopped for a moment but you felt almost a wave of relief hearing his voice on the other line. "Oh thank god, Yuuji..Are you ok—" "N/N, open the window." Was all he said before then line went dead and you were left sitting there baffled. Did he make it back to your house? Slowly crawling out of the bed and slipping on your bedroom slippers, you walked over towards the window and moved the blinds down only a little to peep outside. Standing there in your backyard, shirtless and with his hands in his pockets was Yuuji, seemingly back to normal and everything. There were not increased height, no weird markings, he looked fine and apart of you wondered if it was just the force of his punch that made you see him change. No..because everyone else saw his appearance too.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted up the blinds and unlatched the window. The second that it was free and opened up, Yuuji had jumped above onto the roof and crawled inside to your room. "Y-yuuji, you have a lot of explaining to do— Whoa, whoa!" You took a step back cautiously but he soon grabbed ahold of your wrist and pulled you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck. "I know I do, but first I just want to say I'm sorry to you, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you.." he said, whispering in a soft tone as his hold on you tighten a bit.

"I'm leaving here after tonight but I just had to see you to tell you that I..I love you. I love you, Y/N" Taken back by his words, you felt yourself being pushed onto your bed and watched as the boy loomed over you before crawling onto the mattress.

He loved you. Those words practically made your heart skipped over so many times that you were positive that you had stopped breathing. "Let me come with you, Yuuji." You said, reaching up to his face and caressing his cheeks, "I don't know what's happening but you can trust me. I won't let you go through this alone and I'll always be here with you."

He didn't say much after that. All he did was lower his head a little until your lips were merely inches away from each other before he pressed them together. The sensation you felt was one like fireworks. Those butterflies in your stomach exploding and multiplying over and over again as you felt his tongue licking your bottom lip but you pulled away before he could fully explore your mouth.

"Always..? So you will always stay with me, N/N?" He whispered, head dipping down to your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your warm skin until he kissed the base of your throat. "Yeah..I will." "Do you swear..?" His hands began to grip your hips, running the tips of his fingers against your clothed thighs while he began to press his own hips to your own.

"I-I swear.." you said, staring up at Yuuji with a small smile. He stared at you for a moment, smiling down at you before sitting up, his large hand covering the upper half of his face.

"That's all I need to make you mine." Sliding his hand upwards was when you saw it. Those spare eyes once again on Yuuji's cheeks, staring at you as if it you were nothing but glass. That sincere smile that calmed your soul became a mischievous grin, showing the sharpened fangs he now had. You watched as those pitch blackp markings began to spread over his skin and yet the moment you sat up, two fully grown arms pinned you down onto the mattress. "Almost as naive as the brat himself but I suppose there is some charm to the naivete of a woman. Makes it easier to influence, to change.." 'Yuuji' said, dipping his head down to your ear before biting down on the lobe of it. You gasped out, squirming in his hold.

"Let me go, Yuuji! I don't know what's going on but I want to help! Just let me help you!" You yelled out to him but soon silenced yourself as you noticed the scenery of your bedroom changing. All of your furniture began to disappear one by one as a red hue began to spread around the two of you

In the blink of an eye, you were taken to Sukuna's innate domain. The water that replaced the softness of your bed now causing your back to soaked and your hair now spread out and floating in the depths. "Yell all you want but that brat can't hear you anymore. Gone forever in a dream that will never come true, but I promise I will keep you company in his stead. By the time I am done with you, will forget all about him. All you'll want is me, all you'll ever need is me. The name Ryomen Sukuna will burned into your soul and you'll learn to worship me, N/N..."

With a single swing, the soft yet wet cotton fabric of your shirt and shorts was torn off of you with ease and revealed your now exposed flesh to the cold. Sukuna stared down at them, his tongue licked over his long and sharp fangs as his eyes motioned down to your folds. His hand traveled down your thighs before his finger swiped against the outer circle of your lips yet he looked displeased from what he felt. "Dry as a drought but that's fine. I'll be fucking you regardless" he said, his index finger slowly pushing inside of your virgin cunt causing you to gasp out for air and arch your back. "You tighten just now, dirty whore...Did you often fantasise Yuuji stuffing his cock inside of you...?" he whispered into your ear intimately, he kissed the bottom of your ear and moved onto your neck, sucking until he found the soft spot that made you inhale deeply. 

Sukuna sucked on your neck while constantly kept inserting his finger in you, pumping in and out, eventually adding a second digit. He curled his fingers and caused you let out a faint moan as his finger crept closer to your sweet spot over and over. It was too much, you thought as he bit down onto your soft skin, and you were feeling so good from it so far and it made you ashamed. this demon, this thing was in your best friend's body and now he was using it to currently assault your body but the feeling of it all was too good. You had to keep your eyes shut for looking up at Sukuna tugged at your heart as all you saw was Yuuji.

"Oh you are loving this..." parting from your neck,he looked pleased seeing the angry red hickey left behind.

"I-im not...I'm not..." A moan escaped your lips, feeling something wet replace his fingers. Lifting your head, you saw a mouth on the palm of his hand and its tongue gently licking the nub of your clit almost like a lollipop. "Feels good, doesn't it, N/N..?" His tone was nothing less than mocking, the mouth taking ahold of one of your lips with its teeth causing you to scream out. "I said, it feels good doesnt it? Speak when your master is speaking to you. "

"Y-yes! It feels amazing!" You tasted so sweet on his tongue, circling your clit, lapping at your clenching entrance, kissing your folds. "A-Ah~" You whimper when he folds your legs to your chest, He takes another nip at your clit, as he listened to your hushed whines. Your moans were music to his ears, yet what he wanted from you was his name. The thought of his former vessel's love screaming his name turned him on, the thought of keeping you only fueling the flames. It was harder and harder for him to contain hisself when you're drowning in the pleasure of his mouth licking and sucking at your sloppy pussy.

"I'll take you as mine. You'd like that wouldn't you? Being the woman of the king of curses, waiting for me to return to fill you to the brim." sweat felt like it was pooling out of your body from the attention he was giving to on your clit. Your bucking hips were a clear sign that you were close and so, he pulled his hand away.

"You don't get to come yet. You're only allowed to when you're milking my cock."

The things he did to were things no man has ever done before. Scratches and cuts littered your flesh and bruises were on your sore ass and stomach. There a few times to where you had even blacked out from the amount of pleasure he had given you..

Now you found yourself with you riding his swollen cock as he stared up at you with satisfied eyes, grunting while large hands were pressed against your abused breasts as his hips pumped up into your leaking cunt. Your head felt like it was spinning as you screamed out, orgasm crashing hard as your cunt tightened around his shaft.

As you felt his throbbing cock inside of you, his hand grabbed ahold of your chin and your lips made contact. Sukuna only pulled away when he silently cursed, his seed releasing inside of you for what felt like the billionth time. Taking a deep breath, he stayed inside of your warm hole, not wanting a single drop to spill and kissed your cheek.

Fucking you only assured his choice of keeping you as he own. Sukuna was going to original kill you while taking Yuuji's appearance after taking you but holding you close like this as you soon became limp (no doubt exhausted), your warmth against his own and staring down at your cum stained face..it made something inside him feel strange.

A weakness no doubt, but one at the moment that could keep him entertained. Combing a loose strand of hair behind your ears, Sukuna chuckled.

"From this day forth, you will be my bride. Consider yourself lucky..."

[diamaker-moon]

Moving Forward — Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Revealed... (pt. 2)

—————

"Enchanttréx, I am Hawkmoth. You've been betrayed by the person your loved one, I'm giving you the power to expose any secrets that were chosen to be hidden away from the world. In return, you will bring me ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, Hawkmoth."

The purple substance covered the woman in a wedding dress, and when it was gone it left a woman, who has an intricate gold flower-themed headpiece, long black hair that reaches up to her mid-back, a flowy white to black gradient dress, gold strapped heels, white laced gloves that reach up to her forearm and a veil in front of her face.

"It's time to let yourself free from your secrets!" Enchanttréx exclaimed making the nearby Parisians run away in fear and alerting the heroes.

— previous chapter... —

It took quite a while for Ladybug to get to the scene. People were shocked to see Ladybug with a new suit design. Instead of her previous red skintight jumpsuit with black spots. It was changed to a much more detailed suit.

She still wears a skintight jumpsuit but now she had two-inched heeled thigh-high black boots, solid black colour on her waist with inverted red spots instead of black, solid black gloves and her top looks armoured, her collar turns to swan-necked design still black in colour with red lining. Her hair is now tied in a ponytail that reaches up to her mid-back with two red and black ribbons sticking out of the ponytail acting as the antennas, her mask stayed the same.

Ladybug was worried about how to defeat her since she's alone and has no one to trust with the cat miraculous.

Meanwhile, inside the Agreste Mansion, Adrien was frantically searching around his room for his kwami, he kept looking back to his TV watching Ladybug fight the Akuma alone.

"Plagg! Where are you?!"

He didn't notice Ladybug capturing the villain with her yo-yo and snatching her headpiece with the veil attached and breaking it, freeing the Akuma. She captured it then cleansed it and used her miraculous cure to fix everything, reverting the villain to her civilian self in her wedding dress outfit.

She spent a good twenty minutes defeating the villain alone.

The reporters were pushing each other towards Ladybug to get an interview.

"Ladybug! What's with the new outfit? And where is Chat Noir?" Nadja Chamack asked.

Ladybug was about to swing her yo-yo to leave but was bombarded with that question. She sighed and took notice that she only had three minutes before she detransformed.

"The suit is just an outfit change, no need to worry about it. About Chat Noir... He has been relinquished of his miraculous, I have found out about his misdeeds in his civilian life and how he acted during the battles, I had no choice but to take his miraculous for he became unworthy of wielding it anymore. I need to go, I'm about to detransform." She said before waving and finally swinging away.

Adrien was staring at the TV before looking at his hand with the silver ring. He lost his miraculous. He can no longer be Chat Noir.

—————

"Hey, that's a good record!" She said after she had swung to her balcony then detransformed once she stepped inside her bedroom. The kwamis are patiently waiting for her while they eat food.

"He probably heard the news by now..." Marinette mumbled.

"Do you regret it? Taking the miraculous back?" Wayzz asked.

Marinette was in a daze for a moment thinking back to the good memories of them. The day they became heroes, how he supported her, protecting her from harm, their playful banter, everything. But even if she returns the miraculous to him, she can't trust him again. Not now, at the very least.

"No... I have a duty to Paris as Ladybug, but it is also my duty as Guardian to make sure that no miraculous will be used for evil."

Wayzz was pleased. When he first found out that his previous Master was planning to pass to a teenager the Guardianship of the Chinese Miracle Box, he was worried. It will be a huge responsibility for a teenager especially someone who has quite a future to reach, but Marinette has proved him wrong.

Marinette was busy sewing Clara Nightingale's commission not noticing that it was nearing dinner time. Allegra kept glancing at their dormmate's closed door, wondering if Marinette didn't like them, but it was easily dismissed since they have spent quite a while together, thinking that maybe the girl was just busy.

"Hey, Al. Is Marinette still in her room? Dinner's almost ready." Allan said.

He was mostly the cook since it became his habit to always cook with his mother. He had cooked them a lot of meals and sometimes experiments with recipes, but it always turns out good. Claude was preparing the dinner table and Félix was busy reading a book while sitting on a one-seater couch in the living room. 

"She's been in there for quite a while, she might have the soundproof on," Allegra said.

"She might have a commission she's doing." Félix interrupted. Feeling all eyes turn on him.

"How do you know that?" Claude asked in a teasing voice.

"I looked her up to see if she has any social media accounts, I found out she's an aspiring designer with quite the accomplishments." 

The trio was shocked. Allegra was immediately on her phone and searching her dormmate's name on the internet. She was shocked to see her name attached to a famous singer, rockstar, and even a fashion critique!

"Well, try and call her again, Dinner's ready," Allan announced.

Allegra was about to go when Félix beat her to it. She was shocked once again that their resident snob roommate is showing quite the attention to Marinette but she just shrugged it off. Félix stood in front of her door for a minute or two before he knocked.

"Marinette?" Felix called.

Inside, the girl didn't hear the call, but the kwamis did. They flew towards her to inform her that someone is calling her from outside her room. That was when she noticed the time. But it was too late...

The moment she placed down the dress she's embroidering neither her nor the kwamis that was near her, heard her unlocked door open.

When Marinette, whirled around she then froze, staring with wide eyes towards the blonde who was staring at her as well with his hand on her door's doorknob.

The Kwamis were staring at the two and in shame. Plagg was in the middle of swallowing a Camembert wedge then stopped and stared at the guy on the door, Tikki was nibbling her cookie but then paused.

"Uhm... I can explain...? They're... dolls...?" Marinette nervously said.

Félix blinked at her twice before answering, "Dolls? Dolls that are floating and... apparently can eat on their own..."

Marinette bit her bottom lip before breathing in hard. She grabbed Félix's hand then closed the door and made sure it is locked.

"Don't tell me..." Felix started.

Marinette avoided his gaze, "Then... I won't tell you." She said before giving him a sheepish smile.

Félix can only stare at her in bewilderment. His new dormmate, not only an aspiring designer who was done a lot of commissions for famous people, but is also someone important based on the number of the 'dolls' near her.

"Please, Félix... you can't tell anyone!" Marinette pleaded.

"What exactly are they? And how come there are so many of them?" Félix asked.

"... They're kwamis. They are the ones who give powers to Paris' superheroes..." Marietta hesitantly answered.

"And they are so many because... They are under my protection now..." She added.

He stared at her before looking at the dolls— kwamis that are still staring at them. And then looked back at her pleading face, he then also remembered the news of Ladybug relinquishing Chat Noir's miraculous, meaning that she's alone in the battlefield, she's alone against Hawkmoth.

"You're Ladybug... Paris' remaining hero." He said in conclusion only to have it confirmed by her when she looked away to try and avoid his gaze.

"Marinette... what you need is a team. A support team, base on your announcement earlier, you are alone against Hawkmoth. For now... think about it, if you need help, we're here to help. Let's go, dinner's ready." He said before opening her door and gestured for her to go with him to the dining area.

Marinette stared for a second before following him outside of the room, leaving the kwamis inside her bedroom.

"Oopsie...?" Trixx said nervously.

Plagg continued to eat his cheese before saying anything, "Well, the cat's out of the bag."

Some of the kwamis laughed at Plagg's statement, while Tikki looked at him with a deadpanned expression. "This is worrisome! Her secret's exposed!" She said.

"Tikki, calm down. This could be helpful to the Guardian. She could gain a new set of temporary heroes." Wayzz said.

—————

Meanwhile, a seething brunette is pacing back and forth in her room. She cursed Ladybug in Italian for almost ruining her then cursed her in french!

Earlier in the day, Lila, Rose, Juleka and Alix were together getting ice cream from André, when Enchanttréx came across them and hits her with the Akuma's powers. Lila started spewing out the truths while the rest of the girls are gaping at her.

She couldn't stop talking. She spewed out how she threatened Marinette in the bathroom, how she got 'injured' after being 'pushed' by Marinette, her thoughts about the class like how stupid they were, and many more. From her peripheral vision, she saw Ladybug stopped for a moment and glanced at them before swinging away.

Rose was mortified by what she heard.

Juleka was mumbling a lot and glaring at Lila. They didn't even notice her opening her phone and started recording the conversation, not even Lila noticed her.

Alix's angry expression was evident, she openly glared at the Italian brunette.

After a few minutes, the cure was cast, and Lila was trying to fix the situation but the other girls backed away from her and started walking away. Lila stood there for a while before running to their apartment and here she was now.

"That damn bug!" Lila shouted.

Rose and Juleka are currently on the Couffaine Houseboat— The Liberty. Juleka was comforting Rose whose crying a river on her shoulder while keeping an eye for any Akuma coming near. She tried to calm down the blonde, but Rose won't listen. Due to Lila's confession, it was clear that their previous findings were... real.

"Please, Rose... Calm down for a moment..." Juleka pleaded.

She then noticed her brother leaning on the doorway of his and her cabin. Luka Couffaine was starting at the scene in front of him. Deep inside, he was disappointed by his baby sister's choices. Instead of letting her other friends know, she hid it. He doesn't know why Juleka did it, he wanted to trust the girl's decisions, but Luka didn't know if it was the right thing to do.

"... What happened?" He asked, even though he might already have the answer.

Juleka stared at his brother's eyes before answering.

"We made a mistake..." She mumbled.

"She was right... That Lila was a liar, an Akuma happebed earlier, and Lila startes spewing a bunch of things... But..." Juleka added.

"No," Luka refuted.

"You said it yourself, Jules. You became aware of the situation, that someone in your friend group is a liar. Marinette only did what she was supposed to do, she tried to warn you all but only to be dismissed. You can't blame anyone else, Jules. You were warned by a friend, but you chose to go with everyone else and dismissed her claims. Then soon you knew about it, but didn't tell the others. You can't blame Lila here, you were the ones who believe her without any proof. You messed up. That's what happened. And I don't even know if you can still fix your mess..." He added.

Juleka could only drop her head lower due to shame. Rose who was listening to the conversation of the siblings, couldn't stop the aching part in her heart. Both of them know. They were at fault. Not Marinette, not Lila, but for them. They messed up, and by the time they realized their mistake, things might have been too late already.

Alix was back at her house, starting at a rolled-up banner in the corner of her room. A banner made by Marinette. She couldn't believe herself, if not because of that day's Akuma who knows when will they find out.

She pulled out the pocket watch given to her. In her head, she wished that she could turn back time, back to when Marinette was their friend and was warning them about Lila. She wished that she had the Rabbit Miraculous in her hands but she also knows that is a selfish thing to do.

Alix made a mistake. She doesn't know how to solve it. She didn't even know if she could even apologize for her mistake. For once, she desperately wishes that Bunnyx will appear and tell her about the future.

All three girls know that next school morning will be different from what they're used to... And it may not be the same ever again.

—————

The next morning came, Alix, Juleka and Rose were quite surprised that Lila hasn't arrived earlier than them. Alix immediately went to Kim and Max and explained what happened. Everyone could see that the trio that has two troublemakers is in a serious conversation, they could see Max typing furiously on his phone.

Juleka and Rose, however, went to a small group of their classmates. That group consists of Ivan, Mylene, Nathaniel, and surprisingly Sabrina.

But they were more surprised. Sabrina was telling the other three that Lila Rossi is a liar, but due to her reputation that is tied mostly to Chloé Bourgeois, people find it hard to believe. But when Juleka and Rose confirmed it, they were shocked, to say the least. Finding out that a classmate of yours enjoys toying with you to make themselves look popular can put a negative taste in your mouth. They didn't know that Nino arrived, they only noticed when Ivan saw Nino and his left hand raised, looks like to wave to someone, but frozen in his spot.

"... Nino...?" Mylene cautiously asked.

Instead of answering, he pulled out his phone and continued typing. They thought he'll text his girlfriend, but they saw him searching on the internet. Adrian saw his best friend and immediately went up to him, but was surprised at what he was doing.

"What's going on?" He asks.

"Finding out that one of our classmates is a pathological liar..." Rose answered.

Adrian only tilted his head. Juleka who was now being more observant saw his reaction. He wasn't surprised nor agitated that they were being fooled. As if he knows already.

"... Adrien?" Juleka called.

They all looked at her even though he only called the blonde boy. He answered why and looked at her curiously.

"... You knew... Didn't you?" Juleka boldly asked.

Adrian stilled. He started at the goth girl and avoided her eyes. The others saw it and slowly backed away from him.

Adrian looked at Nino, his eyes were pleading him to stay, but Nino shooked his head.

"You knew... Why didn't you say anything?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Nino whispered harshly instead of screaming to avoid making a scene.

Nino looked back to every interaction they had especially when Lila is the topic and when they are blaming Marinette for bullying the new student. Now he understands why Adrien was so quiet, why he was looking at the ravenette then soon avoided the girl's gaze. He looked at the blonde boy in front of him and thought to himself that he doesn't know this person in front of him anymore.

"Marinette knew. She knew that you knew... That's why she was looking at you every time! I thought she's just trying to plead that she's innocent but actually, she's pleading to you to say the truth!" Nino mumbled.

The others stared at Adrien for a moment before looking away, either in shame when they heard Marinette's name or in anger and don't want to do anything stupid. They all slowly left leaving a stunned Adrien and a silent Sabrina. She looked at him and stared. Soon she left as well, while she was walking she was texting Chloé of what happened and about Adrien's knowledge of the situation long ago. Chloé was furious, she thought at least the boy will have the decency to tell a friend or her but he kept it a secret and it led up to this.

Adrien's phone pinged, he pulled it out and was shocked to see what message was sent to him.

Chloé:  I don't know you anymore, Adrien. You knew but said nothing to anyone, not even to me. What kind of friend even are you?

Adrien heard the bell, and reluctantly dragged himself towards his classroom, he saw Nino seating next to his desk, but when he sat down the DJ didn't acknowledge his presence like before. Adrien looked to his right and saw Chloé frowning and ignoring him as well. He thought back to Chloé's last sentence in her message.

She was right. He knew from the very beginning, but he didn't side with the victim, instead, he sided with the bully. What kind of friend even was he? He didn't know either.

Chapter 6 — Moving Forward: Masterlist — Chapter 8

[purplepenntapus]

Rating Versions of Harry Osborn: Updated

Wanted to redo this post with a more comprehensive and inclusive list of Harrys

616 Comics: 

Just such a good and complex character. The OG Harry. His relationship with Peter just adds so much depth to every Green Goblin arc because of the inherent conflict of Peter knowing he needs to take down Norman Osborn, but not wanting to hurt or lose his best friend. (If you’ve read Kindred no you haven’t.) He’s still... ugly... I’m sorry 616 Harry... I love you so much but they did you dirty... Some artists do their best with what they have but... I’m not a big fan of western comic style in general so that doesn’t help. Has three failed marriages by the time he’s 30 because he’s gay and deeply closeted.  8/10

Spider-Man the Animated Series (1994):

The Harry plotline in this show reeeeally doesn’t feel earned, because the first time we see Harry having an active role in the show, he asks Peter to move in with him because Norman wants him to have a responsible studious roommate  (a detail from the comics I was EXTREMELY excited to see play out), and Peter comments that they barely know each other. Ultimately they live together for all of one day before Peter decides to move back in with Aunt May. The next time we see Harry, MJ calls him Peter’s best friend, despite the fact that we haven’t seen Peter hanging out with—or even MENTIONING—Harry since the last episode when they were basically strangers. Really it feels like he’s just there to cause romantic drama as the guy MJ graciously settles for when she gives up on Peter. I found the whole goblin plotline kind of boring and lacking in depth.  3/10

Raimi Trilogy:

I was never interested in Raimi Harry until after I started liking and exploring other versions of Harry, because I just thought he was kinda a shit friend. He’s a pretty strong character overall, but his motivations aren’t as obvious. He’s torn between his love of Peter as his best friend, and his bitterness towards Peter for being the man his father wished he was. I don’t think Raimi Harry really wanted MJ, he just wanted to get back at Peter in a way by taking someone that HE loved. However I feel like his characterization kind of sways back and forth between sympathetic and not depending on how he’s written in the scene, and it disappoints me that the thing that gets him to stop tormenting Peter is the butler telling him out of nowhere that Norman died from his own blade, rather than any real character development on his part. 6/10

Spectacular Spider-Man:

I still haven’t watched all of this show because I... can’t STAND this version of Peter... but I’ve watched many clips with this boy and he’s just... so sweet... He only wants to be loved and keeps getting his heart broken. Deserves better. On everything. He deserves a better father, a better best friend, better love interests, everything. I do really enjoy the way they incorporated 616 Harry’s drug abuse into this show with the Globulin Green, it was a very clever way to incorporate that aspect of his character, but tone it down for younger viewers. I’ve watched the scene of him getting “unmasked” as the Green Goblin about a million times it’s very good. 8/10 

Ultimate Spider-Man:

I love him. Most people fear drifting apart from those close to us, so watching Harry struggle with the new and increasing distance between him and Peter as Peter seemingly makes new, “better” friends is downright heartbreaking. Especially when he overhears Sam implying that Peter only hangs out with him for his money which is something he’s clearly experienced a lot. (Seriously Sam what the fuck.) I also love his struggle with Venom throughout the series as a metaphor for his anger and bitterness, it’s never truly gone even when they work hard to remove it. It’s always there to bubble back up under extreme amounts of stress, especially when Norman is involved. (Also this isn’t a Norman review, but USM Norman is the only version of Norman Osborn that has rights and he works hard to be the father Harry deserves.) Had an honest to God meet-cute with Peter like come on???? Its unfortunate how much they cut back Harry’s role in the third and fourth season, I really would have loved to see more of him. Threw a party specifically so he could ignore Peter to his face because he was jealous and I respect that level of pettiness. 9/10

Spider-Man: The New Animated Series

I didn’t think it was possible to create an uglier Harry than 90s Harry but this blonde, fuck-boy lookin creepass came and proved me wrong. Who the FUCK is this?? Doesn’t have any recognizable characteristics of Harry Osborn besides being rich and hating Spider-Man. Also just... look at him. I wouldn’t trust this man anywhere NEAR my drink at a party. #NotMySon -3/10

The Amazing Spider-Man:

He’s okay. I think he has some very emotional scenes and good chemistry with Peter, but it’s dampened by the fact that he wasn’t present in the first film and had to share the second with like two other main plot lines. Ultimately ends up being the least sympathetic version of Harry Osborn because he became the original Green Goblin and killed Gwen, rather than following in his father’s footsteps. That’s not to say he’s a completely unsympathetic character. He has a strong motivator in his fear of death, and I do think the choice they made for his character were interesting and could have developed really well, but they didn’t get the chance since the franchise was dropped. 5/10

PS4 Spider-Man:

ABSOLUTELY ADORE HIM. WISH WE GOT MORE OF HIM. HAVING YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF HARRY OSBORN BROKEN AS YOU SNEAK AROUND NORMAN’S PENTHOUSE AND LEARN THAT HE’S BEEN SECRETLY STRUGGLING WITH A GENETIC DISEASE HE’S BEEN HIDING FROM HIS BEST FRIENDS FOR YEARS WAS -chef’s kiss- GENIUS. PLEASE GIVE US A SECOND GAME WITH VENOM HARRY. 10/10

Marvel’s Spider-Man (2017):

Still easily my favorite version of Harry Osborn. When I first began watching the show I was startled by their decision to make Harry a science genius like Peter because it was so different from their usual dynamic, and many people who aren’t fans of the show point to this as something they dislike. But I actually ended up really loving the decision. It gives a different flavor to Harry in how he reacts to the events of the show and how we interpret his character traits, while still being very inherently Harry Osborn. Harry is jealous of Peter, he loves him dearly, but there’s always this ember of bitter envy ready to burst into anger whenever the plot creates friction between them. This is one of the defining traits of their relationship and in most versions it’s not hard to understand why. Peter has what Harry wants. He’s intelligent, he has potential, and most importantly he’s loved. Peter is the son Harry knows Norman wishes he had, and that creates a wedge between them. Marvel’s Spider-Man changes this dynamic. Harry can easily stand toe-to-toe with Peter in terms of intelligence, and in fact they often work together to create things or solutions Peter couldn’t have come up with on his own. That initial wedge between them isn’t there, creating a very endearing and loving friendship that we know is doomed to sour because it isn’t enough. MSM Harry could be the person Norman wants him to be, and that places the full weight of his father’s impossibly high expectations on his shoulders, always within reach but never quite achievable. So it makes a lot more sense why Peter initially has a low guard towards Norman (as opposed to some other series where Peter seems oddly dismissive of Harry’s justified complaints) and Harry’s own steadfast loyalty to his father. On the surface Norman seems like a perfectly loving parent, he encourages his son, he created an entire school for him when he was wrongfully accused of sabotage, it’s only when you start to dig deeper into their relationship that you see the subtle manipulations and the issues Harry has from constantly chasing his father’s approval. This creates a Harry who is desperate for validation and extremely sensitive to rejection, which colors his relationship with Peter throughout the show. I’m still mad he got nerfed in the second and third seasons because Disney is homophobic. TLDR: I may be biased ... Infinity/10

MCU:

Where is he? Who knows? Man missing in action.  ?????/10

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

“You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

[melismaticmadness]

INTERVIEW

Request: “Something in the lines of reader playing reggies gf on the shows s2 and she becomes bffs with charlie but people keep shipping them. Something in like interview style or so....”

Description: FLUFF

1811 Words

Warnings: one curse word!

Charlie x Reader, Featuring Jeremy

Hope you like it!!

Press was always an exciting time as an actor, but even more so with this cast because of what happened before press events for season one. Their virtual press was great, but you can tell how excited they all were to experience it together this time around. Julie and the Phantoms was the best job I had gotten since moving out to LA. Honestly, it could be my big break. I was playing opposite Jeremy as his love interest, but our off-screen relationship was strictly platonic. Obviously, he and Carolynn are married and she is the sweetest. Jeremy is more of a mentor to me.

I sat in between Charlie and Jeremy for our first interview of the day when a production assistant came in and prepped us for the topics for this interview. Each interview has a slightly different focus, so it’s helpful that we know before we get started. The soft-spoken man raddled off some talking points: Charlie’s sleeves, Jeremy’s new character arc, my relationships/experience joining the cast, and then all of us would have time to add in stories of our choice if there was time. Easy. This cast makes it really easy to connect and bond. They are a family and I am so lucky to be a member of it now.

What I didn’t expect was to get so close to Charlie during rehearsals and filming in Vancouver. The two of us were instantly inseparable. He came to watch my film on set, I came to watch him. We rehearsed our lines together almost every night after long days, and Owen even considered me his other roommate because of all the nights I was asleep on their couch. Hanging out with Charlie felt like we had known each other our entire lives, but it had only been about a year.

Interviewer: “So, y/n, you seem really well connected to this cast, even though you’re sort of the new kid in the group. Would you mind telling me how you felt about joining this project?”

Y/N: “Oh I definitely felt welcomed right into the group. I remember my first night in Vancouver, Charlie came to check out my apartment, Owen came too, and I remember Charlie and I trying to prank Owen when he fell asleep on the couch but it was an epic fail. We had water and shaving cream all over the floor and ourselves, oh my god it was a mess, but that’s kinda the proof of how fast I became part of the group. Night one and they were already including me in their fun. The same goes with the girls, Jadah, Madi, Sav, Tori- we immediately were meeting for breakfast before filming together and having movie nights. It was the best welcome I could have imagined, knowing how close they all were from last season.”

Interviewer: “Jeremy, what was it like having this new energy come in, especially to shake things up for your character Reggie, who really was much of the comedic relief last season, but now has this mutually flirty relationship with y/n’s character?”

Jeremy: “Well, it was great having y/n come in and it allowed us all to explore Reggie outside of his quirky one-liners. It’s not that hard acting opposite, y/n, the talent they bring in was insane and we got along really well so it made it a lot of fun exploring Reggie as somewhat of a ‘ladies man’.”

Interviewer: “Yes it was fun getting to see more of who Reggie is, or was? Spoiler alert if you haven’t seen season one, Reggie is dead. All the boys are dead. Anyway, speaking of seeing more of something- Charlie, I noticed the sleeves on all your shirts this season were barely there. Is this a Charlie characteristic that just carried over to show off or was this specifically written for Luke?”

Charlie: “Oh gosh, haha. I think it’s a little bit of both. I definitely bring a lot of myself to Luke, but even in season one, Soyon, our amazing costume and wardrobe supervisor, was cutting the sleeves off Luke’s shirts. I think it played into his 1995 bad boy persona, and now it’s just him.”

Y/N: “and you just like showing off...hahaha!”

Charlie: “If you got it, flaunt it!” With that, all three of us and the interviewer were cracking up laughing and Charlie was flexing which kept us going a minute longer.

Interviewer: “AH,” they sighed, “Y/N, the internet is freaking out about you, truly, because of some photos of you with Mr. Gillespie over here. Let me read some things for you - ‘my heart is broken because I can’t have Charlie, but at least y/n can. I ship it,’ under an Instagram photo of you two the caption reads ‘ship it so hard it’s like the Titanic,’ which is my favorite. It’s too funny. So my question is, what is going on here? Is there a secret showmance that you’re hiding behind Reggie?”

Charlie and I are now laughing hysterically again. I don’t think the interviewer realizes how nervous our laughing sounds compared to before, but hopefully, it’s not noticeable to fans or the rest of the cast. I wasn’t expecting to get questions about Charlie and my relationship when I was supposed to be talking about my character, the whole experience, and all my scenes with Jeremy.

Y/N: “Oh no, no, no. We are friends! Nothing is going on,” I looked over at Charlie who had his eyes locked on me most admiringly. He was going to let me handle this however I wanted. “Charlie and I just happened to click right away during rehearsals and now I feel like he’s the older brother I never had!”

Charlie looked a little hurt at that ‘brother’ comment, but he jumped in to echo what I had said.

Charlie: “Ya know, the fans are so great. They love to keep up with our lives and find little hidden clues in the show about the backstory, and I think that’s just what happened with our friendship. We’re best friends, we have so many inside jokes, we hang out a LOT. But, Nah, nothing is going on here. It’s cute though that they ship us! Look out, Jere! I’m stealing your girl!.”

Interviewer: “You heard it here first everyone, Mr. Gillespie isn’t off the market! Thank you all for your time today. Everyone make sure to check out season two of Julie and the Phantoms, now on Netflix!”

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

After a long first day of press, I was finally walking back into my hotel room in New York when my phone went off.

I tossed my stuff on the couch and plopped down to see what I had missed all day. Charlie had just texted me asking to meet him on the roof.

“The roof?!” I grunted, “How did he even get on the roof?” Back out the door, I followed signs to the roof. Swinging the door open once I got up there, my breath was taken away. New York City right at dusk, with the cool breeze hitting me, was so beautiful.

“Gillespie, are we allowed to be up here?”

“Kenny said we’re less likely to be followed or have our picture taken together if we were up here and came up separately. So, if we get in trouble, it’s on Kenny...”

“The view is amazing. Not surprised Kenny knew about it.” I said as I went to look out over the glass barrier at the edge of the building. We looked out in silence for a minute or so when I heard Charlie exhale.

“Y/n, what was that today?” he said running his hands through his hair.

“What was what today?”

“That whole ‘Charlie is my brother’ thing,” he made his voice go up in pitch to mimic my voice when he said it and I could tell it was bugging him, but I didn’t know why.

“I was caught off guard...I mean we’re friends.. but I figured no one would believe that if I didn’t squash the rumors right there. Sorry if it was like, emasculating, or made it seem like you don’t have any game, lol.” I playfully hip bumped him to get him to laugh a little and it worked but there was still something on his mind.

“Char, is your manager upset with what I said? I can fix it tomorrow, I’ll figure something out-” I said tilting my head in front of his so he was looking at me instead of the view.

“No, y/n, no, it’s okay..” he hesitated, “but is that really what’s going on?”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of me at that moment and all I could do was slide my back down the glass and sit on the roof. My head was in my hands and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing next.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry if I caught you off guard,” Charlie said squatting down to my level. “I just thought..maybe you felt something, anything, telling you this was more than a friend to friend relationship..” Now he was rubbing my back. Damn, this boy is my best friend.

“Charlie, I- I don’t want to lose my job. I love working with you and with everyone,” I took a deep breath, “but I can’t say I never thought about it. I have definitely thought about it.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking in that head of yours?”

“I’m thinking that I care about you and that I have for a while but didn’t want to admit it to myself until now,” looking up at Charlie I could tell he was fighting to hold back a smile.

“Kenny, won’t fire you. I talked to him in LA before we went up to Vancouver because I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me because of how I felt.”

“You told him in LA?! He’s probably been watching us and laughing at us for MONTHS. Oh my god.”

“No, it’s cool. He just warned me to make sure I wanted to be more than friends because he didn’t want to lose you.”

“Wow. Okay.” The weight I didn’t even know I was holding, had been lifted off my shoulders. “The fans really do know us better than we know ourselves.”

We both laughed and Charlie finally settled down right next to me.

“Look, I’m not saying we rush into anything. I knew I had to say something before the opportunity was gone. Now that the show’s out, you’re going to have guys banging down your door for a date.”

“I guess it’s a good thing the only guy I am looking for is you then, hmm?”

“Thank god for that interview…” Charlie said under his breath.

[rintarouweb]

promise.

paring: asahi x gn! reader 

genre: fluff to angst, light angst, friends to roommates to lovers

warnings: light angst? mentions of cheating, unedited

word count: 3.4k+

notes: this turned out a lot longer than intended and took me too long to finish. the ending was rushed but i hope you like it !! this is also my first time writing for hq ヽ(^◇^*)/

azumane asahi had never been a stranger to feelings of love or, in many cases, feelings of infatuation. anyone who knew asahi was well aware of the fact that he was a romantic with a heart that was bigger than his body - something that says a lot given his tall and wide stature. throughout his three years of high school, asahi had found himself harboring feelings for a classmate or peer. a few times, they even went on to develop into a relationship. while he wasn’t extremely experienced in the area, the former ace wasn’t completely clueless when it came to love - or so he thought. 

a boy by the name of hiroaki was asahi’s first ‘serious’ relationship. the two boys were classmates paired together for an english assignment once, then twice, and over time their feelings for one another had blossomed - like tulips in the spring. after hiroaki confessed his feelings for his seatmate, asahi was floating on air. everyone around him could see how much happier he seemed. a sparkle in his eyes, a skip in his step. asahi felt finally full being with him, but that quickly changed after the first month of their relationship. 

the boy who was once kind, loving, and so supportive of his partner became anything but those things towards asahi. it started with hiro becoming more judgemental of the ace, especially when it came to the way asahi showed him affection. suddenly, asahi wanting to hold hands, be cuddled, or even a small peck on the lips was ‘annoying’ and ‘too much’ for hiro. asahi shrugged it off. things were fine and if not, then they’d figure themselves out eventually. he just needed to be better for hiro so they’d be happy, so hiroaki wouldn’t be so angry anymore. over time, hiroaki continued to pull himself away from asahi. ignoring the feeling in his gut and the advice of his older sister, he allowed himself to once again get caught up in love. 

it wasn’t until his three month anniversary that asahi reached his breaking point. a picnic that his sister and mother helped him pack was tucked away in the woven basket. he sat on a large and soft picnic blanket that provided cushion against the hard ground underneath the zelkova tree. an hour passed, then another. it was beginning to reach the later hours of the afternoon when asahi let out a defeated sigh, feeling embarrassed as he sat alone in he and his boyfriend’s favorite spot in the park. he hadn’t heard from hiroaki for hours now. there was no call or text saying he was running late, that he couldn’t make it, or that he wanted to reschedule their date. 

asahi’s vision quickly started to blur, the unshed tears threatening to fall a burning feeling settled in the back of his throat. he wiped them away with his sleeve, gathered his things, and began his journey home. the brown-haired boy wasn’t too far from his home when he saw the reason - or rather, the person why hiro hadn’t shown up for their date. hiroaki was busy with a guy, one he claimed to be just friends with. the lump in asahi’s throat had grown as he watched the scene before him unfold.  a bright smile flashed on hiroaki’s face, one that asahi hadn’t seen for weeks, as the boy moved to give a kiss to his ‘friend’.

ignoring the aching in his heart and the overwhelming need to find the nearest private space and sob until his he was content, asahi swallowed the tears and ran home, flowers clutched in his hold. the second he stepped into his bedroom, his walls came crashing down. the dam had finally broke. 

asahi’s emotional pain flowed out of his pores, anyone could smell the sadness pouring out of them. a loud, cracked, and nearly raw sob escaped past his lips. the stream of tears grew, becoming thicker as his body shook violently under his comforter. in the midst of his tears, asahi had failed to hear the person entering his room, or notice his mattress sinking next to him, and the hand that had started rubbing soothing circles onto his back.  

“asahi?” your voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for your friend to hear you. still, he remained facing away from you with his face squished on his pillow. “what happened, bub? i thought you were with hiro today.”

a cry left him at the mention of his boyfriend, or perhaps he was his ex now. with all the time he spent daydreaming about love, asahi never would’ve imagined this. he knew love could hurt, he had seen his sister go through heartbreak more times than he could count on one hand, but he never imagined it hurting like this. the weight on his chest was unbearable, making it hard for him to breathe or get a coherent word out. 

“do you want to talk about it?” you asked as your hand scratched the hair at the nape of his neck. having his hair played with was something that always managed to comfort asahi, but seeing as it was still tied up into a bun, you didn’t want to just take his hair out without knowing if he wanted your comfort or not. 

a sniffle came from asahi along with a nod. before you could move to respond, he was turning around to face you with swollen, bloodshot eyes and swollen cheeks. “can you play with my hair too?” 

“of course. i’ll always be here for you, asahi.” 

“promise?”

“i promise.” 

- 

intentionally or not, you kept the promise you made to asahi that day. you were always there for him through his lows and highs and he did the same for you in return. even though he was a mess himself, something he never denied or shied away from admitting, he did his best to comfort you, offer advice, or help in any way you might’ve needed or wanted. 

it took a few months for asahi to completely get over hiroaki but once his heart was fully healed, he was ready to give love a chance again. much to his demise, the flames seemed to burn out quickly. he told himself it was because of volleyball and his studies, he was too focused, too busy for a significant other and that was why the relationships didn’t work. and if he wasn’t thinking that he was too busy, he was wondering if it was too much or sometimes too little for his partners. asahi had always struggled with his own insecurities and after being cheated on was a huge blow to the self confidence he spent so much time carefully building up. in his first year of college, he ended up in a relationship that only worsened those insecurities. 

asahi found himself falling for a person in his fashion design class, yuna. looking back, he wonders if he truly loved her or if her being so, so different from hiroaki was what pulled him in. 

yuna and asahi were both in their second year of college when they met in their fashion design class. outside of the one class they had together, the two rarely saw each other - aside from the few run ins here and there on campus grounds. most people who knew yuna, or at least of her, were aware of the fact she was considered to be a ‘loner.’ the thing was, yuna was relatively popular. the girl attended parties often and whenever she wasn’t alone, she was with a new group of people no one had seen her with before. so, when the news of yuna and asahi being in a relationship got around, people were surprised to say the least. 

asahi was timid, especially for a big guy, and everyone knew that. on the other hand, yuna was a relatively short girl with the personality of a shaken up soda. yet somehow with their opposites, they made it work for quite a while. for asahi, it felt as if centuries had passed since his relationship with his first love hiroaki but sometimes old wounds reopened. yuna not only tried to be understanding of asahi’s insecurities, she supported him emotionally and gave him the reassurance he needed. from then, asahi felt as if he finally had found love again. 

the couple was together for five (5) months when yuna expressed that she didn’t have a place to stay at the for the next term. asahi asked yuna to move in and from there, it seemed as if things would only keep going up. oh, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. 

many people will agree that breakups that come out of nowhere are the most hurtful kind and after experiencing one for himself, asahi couldn’t help but agree. asahi and yuna were both wanting to pursue their fashion careers, looking for internships all over just to have the opportunity to work under a gifted designer. asahi landed a position in tokyo, which would’ve been great for their relationship if yuna hadn’t gotten an internship in an entirely different country. after several hour long conversations, the pair agreed that breaking up would be the best for them. they both knew it was coming at some point but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. the day yuna departed to the airport was a painful one to say the least. the last time asahi cried that hard was that day so many years ago when he saw his high school boyfriend cheating on him. 

when asahi closed his apartment door behind him, there was no way to ignore or deny the silence that weighed down on him. yuna’s things had been slowly disappearing from the apartment for months but now, he was finally completely alone. for some, silence was a thing that brought comfort but for asahi, the silence was only more room for his thoughts to weigh down on him. 

he could’ve found an internship in the states, then he would’ve been able to stay with yuna. why didn’t he bring up long distance? they could’ve made it work, so why didn’t he try?

his body sunk into the couch even deeper and a sigh escaped his lips. what the hell was he supposed to do now? it was nearly one in the morning, on a tuesday nonetheless, and just about everyone he knew was either asleep or involved in something he had no part in. your name flashed in his mind and a small smile graced his lips. you were usually awake at the most random hours of the night, or morning. asahi could call you, right? even if you didn’t answer by some chance, there’s no harming in trying. his fingers moved to unlock his phone, rushing to find your contact and letting out a sigh once the line started to ring. 

“hello?” 

“oh, uhm, hi,” asahi whispered. 

“is something wrong? do you need me to come over?” the keyboard clicks he heard on the other line came to a stop as you waited for his answer. he assumed you were editing a video, or working on a new piece of writing. you always told him your mind worked better at night, the moon helped your ‘creative juices flow.’ 

he nodded but remembered you couldn’t see him and responded with a short “yes, please.” 

asahi could only feel relieved at the fact you were awake at such an hour, let alone willing to come over and comfort him, or even just sit in silence for a few hours. unbeknownst to him, this was all part of the promise you made to yourself in high school. it was all part of being a good friend and being there for him the way he had been there for you countless times as well. about thirty minutes later, his apartment door opened and asahi was glad he gave you, daichi, and suga all your own emergency key so he wouldn’t have to leave his spot on the couch to let you in. you made yourself at home as soon as you came in. hanging up your coat and stepping out of your shoes, you sat down next to him and placed a bag of food on the coffee table in front of you. 

“eat,” you pushed the bag towards him. a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but it never fully rose. 

no words were exchanged while the two of you ate. asahi’s attention was focused on the show he had put on and yours was focused on him. his long, dark hair was out of his usual bun he pulled it into and it fell a bit passed his shoulders. a pair of glasses rested on his nose, the glare from the light making it difficult to see just how red the whites of his eyes had become.

“you know, if you’re worried about getting lonely here, i could always move in.” 

asahi’s head turned towards you, eyebrows furrowed. “why would you do that?”

“well,” you swallowed, “don’t like my current roommate. i can’t even exist in peace there. we’ve been friends for forever, you know all my habits, i know all yours. plus your apartment’s closer to my internship.” 

“when can you move in?”

you were moved and settled into the apartment two weeks later. the room that was once yuna’s space for working on designs had been turned into your bedroom and asahi couldn’t be happier. well, he was as happy as he could be for someone who was recovering from a breakup.

 without a doubt, asahi was the best roommate you had and vice versa. your monrings started off with him offering you a cup of coffee, tea, or whatever you had a taste for that morning before leaving for his morning run. breakfast dates, or any sort of platonic date for the two of you only became more common after becoming roommates. some days it was going into the city and grabbing breakfast before spending most of the day shopping. other days, that meant sitting in a quiet diner and catching up. 

your roommate had been extremely busy recently, finally being given the chance to debut his own fashion line and you couldn’t have been happier for him. while you loved and definitely supported asahi in his dreams, things around the apartment had gotten a bit lonely. besides you there were numerous kinds of plants all over the shared space. asahi loved plants, he was a self proclaimed plant dad and living with him only made you grow fond of the green things he called your children. as much as you loved the plants now, they were no match against the nights you and asahi would spend sprawled out on either of your beds eating takeout and binge watching a show that took you both ages to agree on. 

tonight was just another day where you both had agreed on hanging out once asahi got finished with his day. it was nothing extravagant or over the top, just ordering takeout and watching movies while camped out in his room. the food came a bit after asahi got home, he greeted you with a quick hug before excusing himself to the shower and you gave him a small nod and smile. things between you two had been changing recently, slowly but ever so surely. it wasn’t odd for asahi to be affectionate with you, or other of his close friends, but his touches went from quick hugs and occasional cuddles after a rough day to lingering touches, holding your hands in his, and a forehead kiss here and there. it wasn’t a bad change for either of you, actually. based off of the way your heart fluttered whenever his hand brushed yours or the way his chest felt warm and fuzzy whenever he saw you, it couldn’t have been a bad thing, right? definitely not. 

while asahi was in the shower, you sat on his bed cuddled up with one of his favorite stuffed animals: a giant turtle he named melvin. asahi had a collection of stuffed animals, he treasured them no matter how big or small they were. the shelf above his desk was filled with small stuffies he received as gifts from his friends or family, a few from you, actually. once you started scrolling through titles on netflix, asahi entered the room and got settled next to you on his large, comfy bed. 

his hair was tied up into it’s classic bun, a few lose strands fell and framed his face. the hoodie he wore somehow managed to make someone as large and broad as him look tiny. was this the kind of thing asahi did with people he was dating? were you two dating? no, you were both just friends and had been since you were teenagers. nothing more, nothing less. that was what you told yourself any time you found your heart skipping beats because of something asahi said or did, sometimes even just being around the boy was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. you pushed those thoughts and unnamed feelings to the back burner. being his roommate was great, you couldn’t- you weren’t going to ruin that because of some feelings you weren’t even sure of. 

by now, the takeout was discarded in the trash and the two of you snuggled up together under the covers. for warmth. it was cold, asahi was a human heater, so it only made sense that you wanted to be close to him. the movie binge had been going on for a few hours, you’d gotten through a few episodes of a show you wanted to watch and halfway through a movie that turned out to be garbage before deciding to watch disney’s tangled for the hundredth time.

asahi laid with his head on your stomach, giving you room to rake your fingers through your hair but still be comfortable. one of his arms was wrapped around your thigh, almost using it like a pillow, and the other held a small stuffed bear close to his chest. the movie was getting to the part where rapunzel was telling mother gothel about the floating lanterns when asahi decided to interrupt the comfortable silence that had fallen onto you. 

"bubba,” he called, grabbing your attention. you let out a small hum, letting the boy know that you heard him. you could physically feel the way his body tensed under your touch before he turned around so he could face you. his arms held him up to avoid his body weight falling entirely on top of you. the color was drained from his face and you could tell from that and the way his eyes avoided your own that he was nervous, overthinking something. 

“i’ve known you since... forever. i can’t imagine my life without you,” he started, “if it wasn’t for you, i’d be so lost right now.”

“why are you so sappy all the sudden?” you snorted. your attempt to lighten the atmosphere made asahi smile, his cheeks growing a bit pink at that too. you weren’t sure if he noticed the way your face was burning at his words, or the fact that your heart was ready to leap out of your chest and right into his arms. maybe, just maybe you were now sure of where your feelings for asahi stood. he shrugged and let out a large puff of air, his head falling back onto your stomach with a small grunt. your hands tangled in his hair once again as his attention went back to the movie. there were a few minutes of silence between the two of you before you pushed your anxiety aside and took a deep breath. 

“asahi, i don’t know if we can be friends anymore.” 

“wa- what? why not?” 

“i don’t see you as just my friend, or my roommate, even. i haven’t seen you that way for a while, if i’m being honest. and i wasn’t going to say anything but you said that and i just-” you groaned and covered your face with your hands. “asahi, i’m in love with you.” 

his throat was dry, his heart was beating so fast he was sure he’d end up dizzy in a few seconds but this chance was in front of him after waiting for so long, he wasn’t going to let it slip away from him. 

“can i kiss you?”

[backseatloversz]

things ive been thinking abt today // some cameron & charlie headcanons feat. todd and neil<3

i have so much love in my heart for the let keating fry scene

insane 2 me that thats camerons biggest scene. his line deliveries r killer

idk if i would say both charlie and cameron were justified in their actions, but for sure they were both grieving a very sudden, tragic loss, so their actions made total sense and were on par w/ their characters

i like to think that after charlie got expelled, the boys eventually got that, and found it in their hearts to forgive cameron

especially since he textually wasnt acting purely in his own self interest, he was doing what he thought was the best & safest option for all of them

(and if you guys are smart, you will do exactly what I did and cooperate. they're not after us. we're the victims. us and neil. / i mean, why ruin our lives? / and if the rest of you are smart, you'll do exactly what I did. they know everything anyway. you can't save keating, but you can save yourselves.)

maybe after a couple weeks of todd falling terribly behind, the administration was like hmm you should room w/ cameron. surely that will help, somehow.

at first, it didnt. not much, and not instantly, at least

they didnt talk a lot the first few weeks. (but it was nice to not be alone all the time)

GOD it makes me so sad that charlie was left to grieve his best friend entirely on his own

for sure after gaining some stability him and the boys started writing.

except to cameron, charlie never wrote to cameron. (though he didnt complain when the boys would tell him how cameron was doing, or tell him he said hi and hoped he was well)

so, yea, the boys and cameron became friends again<3

especially, in time, cameron and todd

they barely talked when neil and charlie were around, but now that neither of them were, the silence was starting to get stifling

sometimes their conversations started while they were working on homework, and sometimes when they both knew the other was awake too, in the middle of the night, for one reason or another

they talked about school, hobbies, their friends, family, you name it

one night, todd told cameron that he loved neil

and how he never told charlie, and didn't really plan to, but he thinks he already knew, anyway

cameron tells todd about how him, charlie, and neil used to be Best Friends

charlie and neil had been friends for longer, and had always roomed together, but in 9th grade charlie and cameron, and in turn cameron and neil, clicked

opposites attract, or something

charlie got cameron to loosen up a bit, and cameron got charlie to care about being at least somewhat cautious sometimes

a lot happened in junior year; charlie kissed cameron, and they started going steady, neil told them not to worry, cause he thinks he's queer, too; then something happened - cameron says he doesnt remember what, exactly, but todd just thinks he doesnt want to talk about it anymore - and that, he said, was that

neil tried not to choose sides, tried to be a peacekeeper, but he had known charlie longer, and they were roommates, etc etc etc, so there was a bit of an unconscious bias about who he started spending his time with more

but neil didnt stop including cameron in their friend group! always inviting him to study groups n such and making him and charlie begrudgingly somewhat make up<3

and then, well.

anyway

todd never rly knows what to say to all this, so he kinda just nods along, which is fine w/ cam

cameron lets todd call him cam. ive decided that just now

anyway.

maybe a few months or a few years pass before cameron and charlie talk again, n theyre able to forgive each other for being dumb teenagers, then grieving teenagers, and maybe theyre different people now, but in a better way, and maybe they'll try again

ok thats all ive got. the end<3

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh My God, They Were Roommates

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You’re tired of denying your relationship in every interview, but Tom insists on keeping it a secret. Lucky for you, he’s terrible at keeping secrets

Masterlist

Secretly dating Tom Holland was not an easy job. You were his on and offscreen girlfriend, no people naturally wanted you to be together in real life. Towards the beginning of your relationship, you both agreed to keep it private. You’d managed to deny relationship rumors for over a year until you discovered something:

You and Tom were really really bad at keeping it a secret. 

Far too many times, you’d do or say something that confirmed your relationship. And far too many times, you’d have to go on twitter to say it was a joke and that you and Tom were just friends. You hated lying to your fans about the nature of your relationship, and Tom wasn’t fond of it either. You didn’t want to lie anymore. You were ready for the world to know. And yet, the worst secret keeper in Hollywood was determined to keep it a secret.

It all started with social media.

You had stirred up rumors that you and Tom were dating when you dyed your hair red after being cast as MJ and posted a photo of it, captioning it “Face it tiger…”. Tom couldn’t help himself from commenting “I hit the jackpot.” The Spider-Man and MJ reference did not go over people’s heads and the rumors were born.

“This would be such a cute way to confirm our relation.” You smiled as your scrolled through the comments of your picture. “We should tell them.”

“Not yet, darling. I’m not ready for the world to know.” Tom said, much to your disappointment.

“Okay. No, I get it.” You gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek, dropping the subject.

A few weeks later, you sent out a tweet that read, “Tom just hit a pothole so hard that he’s American now.”, leaving fans to wonder why you were together on your day off.

“They caught us. They know we’re on a date.” You said from the passenger seat.

“Friends can hang out on days off. That doesn’t mean we’re a couple.” Tom replied and you looked over at him.

“But we are a couple.” You reminded him, a little hurt at his phrasing.

“They don’t need to know that. I wouldn’t even respond to it. Don’t feed the flame.” Tom shrugged and shot you a smile. You faked a smile back and nodded.

“You’re right. I won’t respond.” You put your phone down and looked out the window, hoping he couldn’t sense your disappointment.

Then, it escalated to interviews.

“Does your friendship ever interfere with shooting the romantic scenes? Like, were you ever shooting a cuddling scene or a date scene where you were grossed out because you had to do romantic things with your friend?” The interviewer asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“Was it weird to do romantic things with my friend Tom? That’s a great question.” You said and Tom laughed from beside you, also seeing the irony. “It was pretty weird since we are such good friends.”

“The best of friends.” Tom egged on.

“Definitely.” You gave an over exaggerated nod. “He’s like family to me.”

“Like brother and sister.” Tom added and you burst out laughing. Tom laughed at your reaction and suddenly, you’re both hunched over laughing while the interviewer watched with a confused smile.

“I don’t think it was weird.” You said after you calmed down. “I have such a respect for Tom and I really admire his work as an actor, and I assume he feels the same for me-“

“More or less.” Tom joked.

“-so it wasn’t too bad.” You finished and elbowed him slightly.

“Was the first time you kissed awkward?” The interviewer asked.

“In the movie or-“ Tom began, forgetting the rest of the world didn’t know that you’d have a first kiss as Peter and MJ and a first kiss as a couple.

“No, it wasn’t awkward.” You quickly cut him off before he blew your cover. “At the end of the day, we’re both professionals and it’s just kissing. We do it all the time now.”

“Sometimes off screen. And that’s not a joke.” Tom brought up. “Especially during filming, I would sometimes forget we weren’t actually together and I’d walk into a room and kiss her.”

You smiled at the memory, remembering all the stolen kisses before you’d made it official.

“How did everyone else react?” The interviewer asked.

“They acted like it was completely normal.” You answered.

“Because for us, it was.” Tom shrugged.

“I will say, it did get complicated kissing you when were were shooting our reunion scene in Endgame because I had to be careful of your balls.” You said.

“What?” Tom nearly gasped. You realized how it sounded and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Motion sensor balls. The little white motion sensor balls.” You quickly explained. “Oh my God. I meant the balls on the motion caption suit.”

“I was about to say.” Tom laughed at your accident innuendo.

“Ask the next question, please.” You pleaded to get out of the awkward moment.

“So did you guys meet through this movie?” The interviewer saved you.

“Yes. We met while filming Infinity War when no one had any idea our characters were going to date.” You answered confidently to redeem yourself.

“We were always paired together for junkets and she gradually became my best friend. Sorry Haz.” Tom apologized to the camera.

“It’s great that you guys were able to click. Your chemistry in the movie is really outstanding.” The interviewer complimented. “I’m sure that’s due to the friendship you’ve built off screen.”

“Yeah, I mean it always helps to be friends with your scene partner. And when we would have to spend hours in a prop bed together, cuddling and kissing while they got the perfect shot, it made us even closer. And as for the chemistry, I guess it kinda happened naturally.” You smiled shyly.

“Here’s a clip from the upcoming film.” The interview said to the camera. A scene from Far From Home played where Peter and MJ awkwardly yet adorably flirting with each other on the London Bridge. You couldn’t help but lovingly watch Tom as the clip played, overly proud of his job in the film.

“We do have great chemistry.” Tom nodded after the clip played. “We should date.” He added and you laughed.

“The fans would love that. I’m sure you’ve seen the campaigns online for you two to get together.” The interviewer remarked.

“We’ve seen it. Or at least, I have. Have you?” You asked Tom.

“I started the campaign.” Tom deadpanned.

“Oh, okay.” You nodded causally. You both kept a straight face for as long as you could before you burst into laughter. You curled into Toms side and laughed until your sides hurt.

“So is this really just a friendship? Nothing more?” The interviewer asked skeptically.

“No. We’re just really good friends.” Tom said firmly. You smile slowly faded and you gave a curt nod. For the rest of the interview, you were in autopilot. Every time you thought Tom was ready to tell the world, he hit you with the “just friends” line. It wasn’t him calling you “friend” that hurt you. It was him saying “just”. Every time he said it, he chipped into your heart. It hurt you to hear him play your relationship off as “just” anything.

At the next interview with Jimmy Kimmel, you had a bigger slip than usual.

“I love the pants Tom.” Jimmy complimented a few minutes into the interview. “But I do miss you in the Spiderman suit.”

“Oh, thank you.” Tom smiled and smoothed out his grey patterned pants. “My girlfriend picked them out.” He said causally. His eyes widened and you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, Uh, yeah. I’ve been seeing someone for a while now. I wasn’t supposed to let that slip so no one tell her.” Tom grimaced before looking into the camera. “Sorry, baby. She is really good at fashion though. She picked out most of my outfits for the press tour.”

“Well I have to say, your girlfriend has great taste.” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.” You answered, then cleared your throat to cover up the slip up. Tom caught your mistake and stifled a laugh.

“What was that, Y/n?” Tom asked coyly, knowing full well what you had accidentally said.

“I said she’s gonna kill you.” You lied through a smile.

“You’ve met her?” Jimmy asked you and you thought quickly on your feet.

“Oh yes. I know her very well.” You nodded. It wasn’t a total lie. You knew yourself pretty well.

“So you guys are friends?” Jimmy continued.

“No. I cannot stand that girl.” You laughed and Tom rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t gonna admit that his girlfriend was you, you were gonna have some fun.

“Here we go.” Tom sighed and the audience laughed.

“Why not?” Jimmy inquired.

“Because all she does is talk about herself.” You said. Tom laughed the irony and you giggled yourself.

“Well what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” Jimmy asked.

“I do have a boyfriend but he’s the worst.” You confirmed. Tom gave you a half cracked smile.

“What?” He asked, practically daring you to go on.

“Why do you say that?” Jimmy laughed.

“He can’t keep a secret to save his life.” You shrugged. “Except the one. He’s really good at keeping one.”

Tom knew exactly what you were doing and he couldn’t even blame you. He didn’t say anything, but patted your knee and left his hand there.

“So he’s like Tom then?” Jimmy said. “Tom, you’ve become infamous in Hollywood as being loose lipped.”

“He is not loose lipped, his lips are very nice.” You defended and Tom smiled shyly. “He just gets too excited and lets things slip.”

“Like you during that one scene.” Tom spoke up. You knew what he was talking about and your face reddened.

“Stop.” You warned.

“What did she let slip?” Jimmy wondered.

“Oh My God. This story is so embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face in your hands. Tom laughed at your discomfort and took your hand.

“We were shooting the “steamy”, as one night call it, scene in the film and she was supposed to say “Peter”, you know my characters name, in like a breathy voice.” Tom explained.

“I’d like to preface that this was an accident.” You cut in.

“So we’re shooting the scene and right in my ear she goes “Tom…I mean Peter”. But the whole thing comes out in like a moan and I thought it was the funniest thing ever.” Tom told the story.

“It was so embarrassing! The whole crew heard.” You groaned while Tom and the audience laughed at your expense.

You and Tom walked into your shared hotel room after the interview and allowed yourselves to relax. While you were setting your purse down on the bed, Tom came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his embrace and smiled.

“That went a lot better than I thought. If people think we’re dating other people, they’ll stop asking us if we’re together. This will totally throw them off.” Tom said and he kissed your temple. Your smile dropped as you turned around in his arms.

“Or, we could use this as an opportunity to tell them the truth about us. They know you have a girlfriend. Why not tell them that girlfriend is me?” You asked.

“Because my fans will come at you with a fiery vengeance. It’s better if they think you’re just my best friend. Trust me, darling, you don’t want them to know it’s you.” Tom tilted your chin up to look at him.

“And trust me, Tom, I do.” You said, and left his embrace.

The next day, you pretended like nothing happened for the sake of all the junkets you had to get through. You could tell Tom was sorry from the guilty looks he kept giving you, but you wouldn’t look back at him.

“What’s the best part of the press tour?” The interviewer asked.

“Getting to spend all day with my best friend.” You laud the word on thick as you wrapped your arms around Toms neck and covered his cheek in kisses. He got your point and let you do it as his way of apologizing. The interviewer laughed along, knowing the effect your actions would have on the fans.

“It’s great that you two are best friends. Is this press tour similar to the Homecoming one where you had to spend all day with Robert?” Tom was asked.

“That was a lot different. Robert has more of a godfather role in my life. I can go to him for advice, but I can’t play table tennis with him at three am in the hotel lobby like I can with Y/n.” Tom answered. You were warmed back up to him and gave him a gentle smile.

“And what’s your relationship with him like?” The interviewer asked you.

“He’s like my dad. He used to carry bandaids around just because I got hurt so much on set.” You replied.

“I remember that. He was always prepared. I went to Robert once when I was sick and he hooked me up to this crazy machine. I was super scared but it’s Robert Downey Jr., so I wasn’t gonna say no.” Tom chimed in.

“He makes Marvel lower your paycheck every time you say no to him.” You joked.

“Exactly. So I let him hook me up to it and it totally cured me. I was better in 15 minutes.” Tom continued.

“Aw. That’s so funny to think of Robert playing doctor on set. I guess your relationship with him is similar to Tony’s relationship with Peter?” The interview asked Tom.

“Definitely, definitely. Minus the fighting crime together and dying in his arms, obviously.” Tom replied.

“Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good.” You cut in with a laugh. Tom and the interviewer stopped and looked at you.

“What?” Tom asked with a growing smile.

“I said Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good. Like Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You explained. You looked at Tom in confusion as he and the interviewer shared a look.

“What?” Tom repeated.

“Because you said your relationship was similar so I said-“ You began.

“No, I heard what you said.” Tom cut you off. “Who’s Mr. Junior?”

“Robert.” You replied, still confused why everyone was making a big deal.

“It’s Mr. Downey.” Tom said and began to laugh.

“Why would it be Mr. Downey? You wouldn’t be Mr. Stanley. It’s the last name. Mr. Junior.” You said again, feeling yourself growing frustrated.

“Yes, and his last name is Downey. My middle name is Stanley.” Tom explained.

You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Tom was saying.

“Did you think his last name was Junior?” Tom broke the silence.

“No?” You said as more of a question than a statement.

“Have you seriously thought Roberts last name was Junior this entire time?” The interviewer asked, also laughing at you.

“I thought Downey was his middle name!” You shrieked.

“What?!” Tom asked and burst into laughter. You felt your face redden as the crew laughed at you as well.

“I thought he was Robert Downey Junior!” You said each name separately. “I thought he just used his full name like Neil Patrick Harris.”

“No.” Tom said in exasperation. “His fathers also named Robert so he’s Robert Downey Jr.”

“But he goes by RDJ! That implies that the “J” is a part of his initials.” You exclaimed.

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.” Tom said as he wiped a happy tear from his eye.

“How did you think I feel?” You asked.

“I can’t handle this. You’re so ridiculous.” Tom choked out through his laughter. “I love you.” You restrained yourself from telling him you loved him back, knowing you couldn’t possibly make it sound platonic.

“Aw.” The interviewer gushed. “You two are such cute friends.”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight lipped smile. “Friends.”

As the press tour neared its end, your ability to keep the secret worsened.

Tom gave you a quick kiss on the lips before the cameras started rolling. The interviewer almost caught it, but you pulled away quickly before he could.

“What is that?” Tom asked as you bite into something orange sometime during the junket.

“A carrot.” You shrugged as your chewed.

“Where did you get carrots?” Tom laughed in confusion.

“The snack table outside.” You replied as you ate another one.

“There’s a snack table? Oh, that’s why you tasted like peppers.” He realized. Neither of you realized what he said but the interviewer raised an eyebrow.

“You know I can’t resist some peppy boys.” You told him. “That better be cut out.” You warned the camera.

“You say that every interview.” Tom pointed out.

“It feels warranted every interview.” You giggled. “You know I debated stealing some of the pineapple from the snack table to take home?”

“Of course you did. You and your smoothies.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“I love smoothies! Is that a crime?” You turned in your seat to ask him.

“Yes! You drink a smoothie every morning and then get hungry twenty minutes later. You guys, she does not eat enough.” Tom said to the camera.

“It’s better than you and your thirty jars of jelly in the refrigerator because someone can’t go a day without toast.” You shot back.

“Oh, do you guys live together?” The interviewer asked in surprise.

You and Tom blinked in surprise at accidentally revealing that fact.

“Uhh, yeah. We’re um…” You started.

“Roommates.” Tom said quickly. “I live in the UK but I work mainly in the States, so I live with Y/n when I’m here.”

“Roommates? How cute.” The interviewer smiled.

“Just adorable.” You mumbled.

You dropped your purse on the hotel bed that night and put you hands on your hips. Without even looking at you, Tom could sense you anger. He sheepishly looked up at you and gave you a weak grin.

“I’m sorry?” He offered.

“For what?” You demanded.

“I don’t know. You haven’t told me yet.” He said.

“Roommates? You told him we were roommates?” You asked, not bothering to mask the hurt in your voice.

“Well why else would we live together?” Tom defended his answer.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve been in a committed relationship for over a year.” You grumbled. Tom heard the frustration in your voice and and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“But they don’t know that, darling.” He said softly.

“But I want them too. You keep pushing back telling our fans. You said we’d tell them before the press tour.” You said, feelings tears rise to your eyes.

“Yes, but then I realized all the interviews would focus on our relationship and not the movie.” Tom reminded you. “We needed to promote the movie.”

“No one needs to promote Marvel movies! They’re Marvel movies!” You exclaimed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this, sweetheart. We agreed not to tell our fans.” Tom tried to talk you down.

“We agreed not to tell our fans right away. It’s been a year Tom. Do you not want them to know?” You sighed.

“I like my privacy, love. I don’t want the world intruding on us. I love you too much to share.” Tom cupped your face in his hands but you looked away.

“You say you love me, but tell the world I’m nothing but a best friend.” You said sadly. “Or worse, a roommate.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, angel. I’m sorry.” Tom apologized. You dropped the subject and went to bed without another word. You were cold towards Tom all the next day until your interview that night, the last of the press tour.

The media frenzy of rumors came to an end during a game of Charades on Jimmy Fallon. You were on Jimmy’s team, leaving Tom and Benedict as your opponents. You shot flirty banter back and forth all game until finally, your team won.

“Haha.” You pointed a jeering finger at Tom as you got off the couch and approaching him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you with pure joy. “Just like the War of 1812, the British lost-“ You couldn’t finish your burn because Tom had pulled you into a kiss.

“Sorry, darling. You looked so cute up there. I couldn’t resist.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Wait, are you two together?” Jimmy asked, interrupting the moment. He was looking back and forth between you and Tom and the camera. You realized that the moment occurred on live television and suddenly felt shyer than you ever had before.

Tom looked at you, allowing you to be the one to confirm it after wanting too for so long. You looked into the camera and smirked.

“Truth is…I am dating Tom Holland.” You said in true Tony Stark fashion. The audience irrupted into applause and you couldn’t stop your smile from breaking through. Tom looked at you fondly and pulled you into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Yes I did.” He whispered into your ear. “love my privacy, but I love you more.”

Tag List 🏷

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[rage-on-a-page]

WP: Your roommate is the serial killer on the news. One day they say "I'm bored, got anyone in mind for me to... y'know?"

“I’m bored, got anyone in mind for me to… y’know?

It was a loaded question. There were, of course, some people I would like to see murdered. Every day you read about corrupt politicians making disgusting decisions against humanity. Beyond that there were a few criminals I could think of that were deserving of some karmic justice. But when Aida asked me this question, there was only one person I could think of, one person who needed to hurt the way I do.

It was another hustling day under the scorching California sun when I found out my roommate was a serial killer. No like, I actually found out Aida was a serial killer. I read plenty of reports online: “The Marigold Murderer Strikes again!” The M.O. was quite simple: a body would be found, usually within 3-5 hours of the death. The victim laid in pristine condition- always made to look like they were asleep. And while the scene would always be cleared of any sort of evidence that could identify such a murderer, there would always be a perfectly laid marigold, right on the heart of the victim. 

“I wonder why they used a Marigold… doesn’t seem very intimidating to me” I once posed to Aida.

“Well I heard Marigolds are used to honor the dead. Maybe it’s some weird way of saying sorry?”

At first I had no reason to suspect Aida of such crimes. After all, we’ve lived together for about a year. I had seen her at her best- cleaning the apartment while blasting 90’s power ballads. And I had also seen her at what I assumed to be her worst- puking in my toilet after margarita night went beyond saving. I had grown to respect Aida and learn how to live with her. I never imagined she would be capable of doing anything as insane as committing a string of murders.

So imagine my surprise when I walked in her room last week, and found a cache of marigold petals, reposed in her closet. An odd sight to be sure, but that alone was not enough. I decided to check what the police had published on the Marigold Murderer. Virtually no identifying information, and the list of victims had almost nothing in common. A churchgoing mom who was adequately respected, a single business man who lived more to be an influence than for himself, a graduate student with a habit of getting wasted at college bars and harassing undergrads. Nothing linked these people with one another, nothing but Aida.

At least that’s what Aida told me when I confronted her. To my surprise, she didn’t deny it. She didn’t try to excuse it or make it sound like it was any better than it was. Aida owned up to every bit of it and told me if I wanted to report her, that it was my choice. She said it started as an accident, but when she never got caught, it became a habit. But she didn’t just choose anyone. She chose only those people she had interacted with and determined that those in their lives would be better off without them there. 

“The Marigold is the flower of the sun” she said… “It also represents good fortune and optimism. I’m optimistic that those left in the wake of my crimes will have their chance to grow”.

So maybe it was that thought that led Aida to ask me the golden question: “got anyone in mind for me to, y’know?”

I’m not entirely sure why I never turned her in. Maybe a part of me still refuses to believe it. Maybe the friendship I had developed with Aida made me overlook it. Or maybe… dare I say… I did have someone in mind I needed Aida to help me with. Someone who deserved to hurt the way I do.

“Aida… you know there’s only one person I wish would drop dead. Miguel… after all this time together, he has the audacity to go out and pose with every cheap floozy that lives in Orange county. It’s like I meant nothing to him. Every now and again he’ll like one of my posts… maybe leave an emoji as a comment… but I’m sick of it. I am sick of being reminded by how perfect he exists and how he doesn’t want me anymore. How can someone change their mind like that? It’s only been a month since we broke things off… but every day I carry the pain of what we were and every day I see him weightless. I wish I could be like that.”

“...Do you think killing him could be the answer?”

“Aida-”

“I don’t mean to judge. I’ve done it for less than that. I just want to be sure it’s what you want.”

“What I want is for Miguel to love me again. What I want is to bring our love back from the dead. Do you think you could do that?”

Aida sighs and responds, “Now you know just as well as I do… he needs to be alive for that to happen.”

The silence grows between us. Of course it’s true. I want Miguel dead, not because he hurt me, but because seeing him alive knowing I’m not with him is the cruelest kind of hell. Maybe without Miguel… maybe then I could grow. Or maybe I would spend every day of my life thinking of him in a completely different way. They say time heals, but I can’t help but wonder how long it will take.

The silence continues, but as though she read my mind, Aida hands me her wine. I take a solemn sip and lay my head on her shoulder. It’s crazy to think I could trust a serial killer, but right now, there’s nothing she can do that would hurt more than the pain I’m already feeling.

[mdotmaro]

Winging It

Author's Note: This story is set right after Vacation with Derek. Casey is going off to New York to like her dream as a dancer in a musical. But what if things are not what she expected? What if her dream was wrong? What if the most irritating person in your life is the only one that can talk some sense into you

And so the summer of 05 was coming to an end. The Blue Heron Lodge wasn't going anywhere, and Broadway was calling Casey's name. She sat at the dock, letting her toes dance across the surface, careful to avoid her heels getting wet. There were slight thumps on the floorboards of the dock.

"You know it's not much of a party if you go to brood off all alone. Maybe save the dramatics when you get on stage." Derek commented while he took a seat next to Casey. She chuckled quietly.

"You heard, huh?" She asked with a wistful smile on her face as she stared up at the stars.

"Hard not to when Nora and her hormones keep crying about it every five minutes; Casey laughed at that and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Derek eyed her and then recoiled at the sight of tears.

"Oh, come on, not you too. Jeez, I can't wait to be in University without all the estrogen seeping through the walls." He said and nudged her lightly.

"I am fine, really just taking it all in. My dream is really coming true, and I just have this light feeling in my chest that makes me want to laugh and cry all at once." She explained; he smirked at her.

"Well, if that feeling spreads to your right arm, let someone know because you might be having a heart attack," Derek said, and Casey shoved him.

"Yeah, I'll miss you too, Der, " She said, and Derek scoffed at the insinuation.

"Whatever, all I am saying is that New York is far enough away that it would be too much of a pain to Dad and Nora to go fly over and save you from whatever crisis you have; so" He cleared his throat and looked up at the sky and pointedly not at Casey. His ears were a tad pink.

"So, call me instead. But you're paying for the plane ticket." He added abruptly, but it was too late. Casey began to pout her lip and stare at Derek with tears in her light blue eyes.

"Aww, Der. You do care. Come here," She said and went to hug the young man that back peddled away from her.

"I take it back, don't call me. Don't touch me. Casey, I mean it," He said in a mock deep tone that made her glossy eyes glitter with amusement. It was a two-second pause between them before Derek sprinted up the dock with Casey close at his heels.

"Oh, come on, Derek, you love me, just admit it," Casey shouted and laughed after him. He blitzed away from her just as she was about to catch him by shirttail. Her fingers barely brushed the fabric. Derek thought he could lose her at the dock because there was no way she would risk falling off, Right? Wrong, one rolled ankle, and down she splashed into the dark water. Derek burst out laughing and continued until he realized Casey didn't resurface.

"Casey?" Derek called out and scanned the surface for any bubbles. A twinge of panic left his voice when he called out again. "Casey!" Still nothing. "Oh for the love of Peter" He grumbled before taking off his fancy shoes and jumping in and searched the water for any sign of her. He saw a dim image of a figure struggling against something. Derek swam over and saw it was her heavy wedge heel stuck between two pieces of driftwood. Casey was trying to yank her foot out; Derek broke the buckle and dragged her up. They both gasped, and then Casey hit Derek in the chest.

"Der-rek, those were my favorite shoes!" She panted and supported herself up by his arms until she could regain her breath. Derek stared open-mouthed at her.

"Fine. I'll just let you drown next time," He said and then smirked, and Casey's eyes widened before Derek dunked her head underwater. She swatted at him until he let her go, and then there was a splashing war. At one point, Casey was able to wrap her legs around Derek's waist and pushed down on his shoulders to dip him under.

"Casey, you are not allowed to drown Derek," Nora said passively as she waddled with her large belly to the bunkhouse with George. Derek picked Casey up and flung her back into the water.

"You heard her." Derek laughed at the haphazard hair plastered to her forehead. Casey dipped her head back to smooth out her hair.

"Let's get out of here; the water is freezing," Casey said and wrapped her arms tightly around herself; the dress she was wearing had stuck to her skin in a less than modest way than Casey was comfortable with. Derek unbuttoned his vest and handed it to her. She smiled and accepted the vest, and quickly buttoned up the middle. Jessie saw Casey from across the lawn and jogged over.

"Hey, Casey, a great night for a swim, eh?" He said while grinning at the waterlogged step-siblings. Derek nudged Casey's arm before heading out to the brunette waiting by the jet ski. Casey watched him go before turning back to Jessie. I guess you could say that. Want to go for a walk?" She asked while looping her arm through Jessie's.

"What happened to your shoes?" Jessie asked, indicating to her bare feet. Casey laughed

"It's a long story."

Six months later

The blaring car horns were surprisingly easy to adapt to. Casey particularly loved the little shops and cafes that seemed to flower at every corner. The organic wheatgrass and lemon zest smoothie was a favorite routine of hers before taking a run in central park. Rehearsal wasn't until 10 am, and Casey had to make sure to keep up her stamina for the demanding routine involved in the Jazztap Tango on Mango Street.

Casey was the roommate and unrequited love interest, Mindy. Jessie was the lead Georgio. He was taking his role as the Mainstreet casanova to heart. Whatever began at the Blue Heron Lodge was soon forgotten after there was so much research to do with so many women.

"I just need to get a better feel of the character. You understand, don't you?" Jessie explained at Casey's studio apartment. She stared at him and tried her best to stay civil. It was an act she had seen many times with Truman and certainly with Jessie. He wasn't exactly nonchalant about his veracious flirting as a waiter, and it only increased in New York when his charming shyness faded away.

"Of course, see you on set. K?" She said before gently closing the door. The apartment was basically a shoebox; she could barely practice her routine, and Casey was starting to get restless. There were a few framed pictures across the headboard of her twin bed. She picked up the last picture the entire family had taken together. Simon was just born, and they were all huddled together at the hospital. She smiled at the image that had been taken four months earlier. Simon must have at least doubled in size by now. Casey sighed at the knot in her chest and stared at the phone on her bed for a long moment before giving in and dialing.

"Yo, You've reached Derek Venturi. Leave a message, and I may or may not get back to you. Later" Casey rolled her eyes at the voicemail, but she still waited for the beep.

"Hey, It's Casey. No, I am not having a crisis. I just wanted to call and see how you were doing and to see if you had flunked any of your classes yet. Call me back when you can," She said, and that was two days ago, and she had not heard back from him since. The musical was supposed to air at the Radio City Music Hall for the first time that night at 8 pm. It was too short notice for any family or friends to be able to see it live, but they promised to come to the next showing in two months in Buffalo.

Casey quickly dressed and went up to the stage. "Alright, Casey, go up to the balcony and start from 'Carry On, '" The director Bernard Blue instructed from the front row. The prop balcony was just reinforced after a near spill last week that had Casey hanging on for dear life by the railing. Margret, the leading lady, had teased that Casey shouldn't have had that extra slice of pizza at rehearsal wrap-up. Derek said that she was being "Black Swanned" when she had called that night to vent her frustrations.

"You've seen The Black Swan?" Casey scoffed.

"Uh Yeah, Natalie Portman 'finding her sexual nature' on screen. How could I not?" He said.

"You're disgusting," She said, but they ended up laughing anyway.

Casey stared into the spotlight and let out a deep breath.

"Carry on, sweet dear. My mother always told me.

Carry on through these tears. Let them water your garden.

Soon the flowers will bloom and shade your views of the unkindness of this world." Casey's voice carried sweetly through the theater as she watered the small prop flowers on the balcony. Below Jessie danced and caressed Margret while Casey was made to gaze forlorn at them from above.

"But sometimes the flowers bloom is not enough.

Never enough." Casey sang with more force, and she flew down the stairs to meet the lovers, but before she descended, they were gone.

"Just living and watching you fade from me.

Even if you're happy, it will never be enough for me-" She ended with the saddest halt of her voice. The lights faded, and then she was shuffled backstage for the next scene. It had become just a monotonous cycle in her life. When did her dream become the very thing she dreaded each and every day. Maybe when it was when her dream became a job, and the freeing feeling she had when she danced was now controlled by someone else. She looked at the glittering face in the mirror. Casey had the opportunity to give into a secret desire to be a blonde for the role, but there was something different in her eyes. They seemed dull.

The play was a moderate success. There were no screaming crowds or cries for an encore like the director had predicted. Casey was honestly just glad it was over. When she went to the dressing room, she found someone in her chair. With a well-timed spin, Derek grinned at her, appearing quite at home.

"The real star is here," He announced, lounging in the makeup chair like a throne. Casey laughed and all but launched at him. She squeezed him in a hug.

"Chillz, Case. Can't breathe." Derek said but still gave her a gentle squeeze back. Some of the other girls began to mill into the dressing room and took in the scene of the two step-siblings.

"Aww, Casey, I didn't know you had enough time for a boyfriend." Eloise sneered. Casey gave the petite redhead a withering look.

"This is my step-brother, Derek. Derek, this is Eloise, Jasmine, Cossette, and Jamie." Casey said, milling off as the women eyed Derek with a predatory look. Casey wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Oh, and is Derek single?" Eloise asked while batting her massive costume lashes at the man. Derek chuckled and got out of the chair, but before he could say anything.

"Oh, he is, but sorry to tell you, girls, he is gay. Come on, let me show you the city." Casey said before half dragging Derek out of the dressing room. Derek protested the entire time he was very much straight. Once they were on the street, Derek shook her off his arm.

"Jeez, Casey. Possessive much?" Derek complained. Casey shook her head.

"Please, Derek. Those theater girls would have eaten you alive." She teased. "Anyway, what made you come all the way over? How did you like the play? How is the family?" Casey rattled off as they walked down the street, the park was coming up, and they had a night market to celebrate the change into spring.

"Take a breath, Casey." Derek teased and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Casey closed her mouth and made a locking motion while throwing away a figurative key. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You are such a dork," He mumbled, and she put her hands on her hips. "Well, I heard your voicemail, and you are still a terrible liar; you are obviously having a crisis." And he held a hand to stall her protest. "Yes, you are, but I have to go down the list before you go on this verge of denial." He smirked

"The play was sappy but good, I guess. And the Fam is fine, I guess, you can reach out to them too, you know." He said and then lingered over to a hotdog vendor and ordered a dog with all the fixings, even relish. Derek took a huge, messy bite and then offered some to Casey, who gave a quick shake of her head.

"I know, and I try too, but these hours are so long with the play and rehearsals and the gym to stay in shape." She sighed. Derek sized her up.

"What's wrong with the shape you're in now?" Derek said through a mouth full of meat. Casey grimaced and offered him a napkin.

"Chew, swallow, then speak, you, Neanderthal," Casey said and then looked down at her thin, toned arms. "The costume designer has been complaining about having to use extra material for my costume because I am not a size two like the other girls," Casey said and crossed her arms in frustration.

"You'd look weirder than usual if you were super thin like them," Derek said after finishing his hot dog and wiping his mouth. They passed a beadwork station where Derek tossed his trash in the nearby bin, and Casey looked intently at the necklaces.

"I agree, but that's showbusiness. I don't have enough curves to be plus-sized and not thin enough to be seen as a regular dancer. It's exhausting," She admitted while touching a deep jade necklace like one her mother would wear.

"So, quit," Derek said simply. Casey turned away from the necklace and stared at him incredulously.

"I can't just quit on my dream, Derek. I have sacrificed too much for it not to work out." She said hotly. Derek gave her a bland look.

"I saw you up there; there is no passion in you." Derek accused. Casey scoffed.

"Please. What do you know about passion?" Casey asked, and he shrugged.

"I have been playing hockey since I was twelve, and I have never felt like getting up to play was ever work. You have been complaining for weeks about this, and it is just not what you expected. And that scares you." He accused. Casey shoved him.

"I am not scared!" She hissed, but it wasn't convincing. She gave into his penetrating look and slumped her shoulders. "Okay, fine. I thought it would be amazing to dance on a stage in front of hundreds of people every night, but it's not the same when the choreography is the exact same, and I don't have the creative liberties I would If I did my own choreography." She admitted—Derek tutt at her before lazily throwing his arm across her shoulders.

"Well, you can always modify your dream to fit your life." He said and then eyed a street band performing under a massive tree filled with string lights. Casey gave him a confused look, and then her eyes widened at him when he dragged her towards the band, and he twirled her around. "Like dancing in the park without any stuffed shirts of catty girls criticizing you." He said before joining her in a faced paced swing dance. Casey's face lit up with the biggest and most beautiful smile. She laughed and tilted her head back when Derek picked her up and spun her.

A small crowd of dancers joined in, and the band picked up its pace, and Derek let Casey down so she could take the reigns. This was her, Casey free and alive.

The two left the park with a little more pep in their step and laughing. Derek dragged them to the closest bar and ordered them whiskey shots. Derek started to sweet talk to the bartender and didn't even get carded. They were legal in Canada, but at nineteen, were not yet legal in the states. It helped that Derek had a bit of a blonde stubble beard going on. Casey just shook her head in amazement.

"I am the one supposed to be showing you around the city. I am the one who lives here," Casey said before clinking her shot glass with Derek's and downing it in one go. Derek laughed at her grimace as the whiskey burned down her throat.

"It's called confidence Casey, maybe you'll know all about it after a few more of these." He said and waved at the bartender for another round. He handed Casey another cool shot glass, and she met his determined gaze with one of her own. He leaned close to her ear and said over the loud music.

"Oh, and you're paying, by the way." He said, and before she could yell at him, he downed his shot and pulled on her hand to the dance floor. Casey refrained from his pulling to shakily downed her whiskey shot. Derek released her to the thumping music while he made eye contact with a blonde in a tight purple dress. Casey felt her limbs become loose and cool and began to sway to the beat. The writhing bodies pressed against another was not the type of music she was usually used to, but there was something hypnotic about it. A pair of arms snaked around her waist, and Casey flinched to see a handsome stranger with mint green eyes that shone against dark skin. He leaned close to her ear.

"Want to dance?" He asked, and she nodded nervously. He led her in a slow sway, lightly pressing his hips into hers. Casey bit back a gasp and ran her arms up and through her own loose waves. This was heaven. She followed the handsome stranger step for step and rolled her hips in a way that made him hiss. His hands began to drift from her hips to the back pockets of her low-ride jeans. It was only when he squeezed her bottom that she squealed and jumped away. The handsome stranger raised his hands up in surrender. He mouthed "sorry" to her, and she shook her head and smiled at him before moving more towards the center and dancing by herself. At least she was until Derek came over with another two shots, and she gladly accepted, now getting more used to the burn.

"You okay?" Derek shouted over the music. Casey nodded.

"Better than ever." She said and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a more lively song. Derek put both their glasses on the nearby counter and began to sway along with Casey. This was much closer than they had ever danced before, and Casey was giggling and biting her bottom lip as she spun and gyrated onto Derek. Oh no, Derek thought. He had created a monster. He would have always thought Casey would be a lame weepy drunk, but it turns out she is a flirty drunk. Derek wasn't exactly sober either, and the night was still swinging along. He held for the ride with his hands firmly on Casey's hips. She spun and then wrapped her arms around his neck. She swayed back and forth with her eyes half-closed.

It's hard to say who moved; first, one moment, they were forehead to forehead, and then Casey whispering huskily, "Thank you for saving me, Derek" Derek chuckled and asked, "From what?". Casey's fingers ran through his smooth hair before leaning to his ear and whispering, "From myself" Maybe he was going to give her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. Maybe she only turned to put her head on his shoulder. Whatever their possible intentions, what happened was that their lips met for the briefest moment. They had enough sobriety to freeze and look into each other's eyes. Derek searched her baby blue eyes for any fear or concern but only found her doing the same, and a flicker of want glazed over her eyes. That was all each other needed for permission.

While the first kiss was sweet and innocent, this kiss was desperate and sensual. Derek pressed Casey closer and cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss, and Casey let her hands trail down his chest to the hem of his shirt. In the course of their kissing, the song had changed to something slower; Casey and Derek took the opportunity to come up for air. Casey nuzzled into Derek's neck, and he held her close.

"What are we doing?" Casey asked and pulled back to look at Derek. She half expected a sarcastic remark like, What does it look like? We were making out, and now we're not. Not that big a deal, Case. But Casey had never seen Derek like this before. His face was open and vulnerable.

"I don't know," He said and shook his head. He smoothed some hair out of her face and smiled down at her. Casey smiled back and leaned up to kiss him lightly. She rubbed her hands over his arms.

"Well, whatever this is, let's wing it," Casey announced confidently. Derek laughed at that and shook her lightly.

"What?" Casey pouted. Derek shook his head and slung an arm over her shoulder, leading her out of the dance floor towards the bar to pay their tab.

"'Let's wing it,'" He imitated her in an absurdly high pitch tone. "You are still such a Keener," He said. She elbowed his side.

"Der-rek," She whined as he pat her head in a condescending way.

"It's okay; you're a cute kenner." He said with a wink. She forked up the cash for their tab and joined him out in the New York nightlife.

They stared out at the buildings from Casey's fire escape. Neither said anything for several minutes until Casey broke the silence.

"I have to drop out of the play," Casey announced, and Derek smoothed her hair in response. "Yeah, you got me thinking."

"Oh no," Derek said and snickered when she lightly slapped his knee. Casey was sitting between his legs and leaning back into his chest.

"I want to go back to school, but not for Law. I want to own my own dance studio." She said, and Derek put his chin on top of her head.

"So, Casey Macdonald found a way to make a career where she is in complete control. Shocker." He whispered the last part into her ear; she smiled and then turned around so she was facing him.

"Plus, going to university will give us time to figure out whatever this is." She said as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He smirked at her.

"Yeah, sure, let's 'wing it,'" He said, and Casey slid her hands up to his neck and kissed him until the sun began to rise, and they both finally succumbed to exhaustion.