#also imagine literally never being able to forget the little embarrassing things that you do i think i would go insane

[mcmorare]

i do not talk enough about the incredibly negative impact of katrina's powers making her perfectly remember every moment she's experienced and every single emotion she's felt since she was about 17

[passthroughtime]

so, i, uh. have been (re)playing LJ as i’ve mentioned before. and this moment has been stuck in my brain for several days now, though it’s stupid AS FUCK, and i was prepared to go insane other this scene (turns out, not enough...). not gonna be normal about this, of course.

“probably never been washed” stop fucking projecting, yagami. and of course it’s a video game and yada-yada, that’s why we can’t see the stains. but there’s still NONE as far as we can tell. yagami, this way you won’t be able to beat the little hater allegations, as much of a good lawyer you are.

“can’t imagine the stink” why you, as a man, need to imagine how another man stinks if you don’t smell it already, there’s probably none. not to the point of being a ‘stink’. and don’t get me started on the fact that you still have no proof that it wasn’t washed ever. calm the fuck down.

other than that, i love this addition to the game. “the place he sleeps at is stinky and dirty, and has been for the last several years. stinks how, you ask? let your imagination run wild! but yeah, obviously nobody fucks this man. not here, at least. there’s not enough space for two people and who in the right mind would be excited to do the deed lying on this thing? so, here’s an important lore tidbit for you: the only two actions there probably happening are sleeping in dirty clothes and jerking off without cleaning after. you’re welcome.”

also this:

why does yagami have the need to be this pathetic. i love him, obviously, but he’s such. just so. yeah

things to note:

1) at least kuwana sleeps with sheets on. can’t say the same about the lil hater here.

2) and that’s why i’d be concerned about the smell of the sofa more actually, if anything. it looks pristine... but lets not forget that kuwana has the power of bedsheets on his side.

3) the only thing that keeps yagami motivated to work is that he can’t sleep or even sit comfortably in the only semblance of a residence he has. apparently.

4) this whole scene is funny as hell tbh. “he can’t even wash the dishes 🙄” look who’s talking. “could this chair be where kuwana sits?” you’re so stupid. can we kiss?

5) there were literally zero braincells used by yagami here. he’s just bitching during any other options which aren’t plot-related but available for investigation. YOU HATE HIM! WE GET IT! SHUT UP!!!

6) yagami at least had the decency not to voice the thoughts shown above to kaito. i’d honestly be embarrassed.

7) i have. So many thoughts about how disgusting they are. and i don’t even want to think them, let alone say them to anyone.

conclusion: what the fuck was that. i’m so pissed. leave me alone. preferably as far from these losers as possible. until they’d have a hour-long shower at least.

[ninacytosis]

For the time lost

Summary: Zuko wants to erase every reminder of his past mistakes, and Katara will take him on a journey to, quite literally, heal both of their scarrings.

Contains: Angst, Fluff, Katara has burns scars from Aang's first attempts to firebend, Katara tries to get over her resentment towards the FN, Zuko doesn't hate Azula.

Dear reader: I hope you enjoy it! <3 Let me know if you want me to continue posting.

Find chapter two here.

Also if you prefer reading in ao3 here's the link.

┊┊┊┊☆┊*🌙*┊☆┊┊┊┊

Chapter One

“Dear Zuko:

I hope this letter finds you well. Since you didn’t respond to my messages from the previous weeks, I couldn’t help but do a little investigation on my own. Aang told me he last visited the Fire Nation a couple of days ago, and to his surprise, you weren’t there. Honestly, this got me even more curious. What are you up to, Fire Lord? What juicy secret are you keeping from us?

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that my dad made some octo-fish soup this weekend. I bet you have never tried it, well, maybe on your finding-the-avatar days you stopped by and tried. But that doesn’t seem like you. One day Sokka and I will cook you some, but only if you tell me why you’re being so distant lately!

We’re always here for you, Zuko.

Hugs,

Katara”

Zuko read the letter while waiting for the water to boil. He had never heard of octo-fish soup to this day, but he wasn’t opposed to trying new dishes. In fact, most of his favorite dishes weren’t even from the Fire Nation. After trying the Omashu noodles, who could blame him?

 “Dear Katara,

I hope you enjoyed that soup and the company of your family. Knowing that you spend good quality time with your family brings me so much joy and relief because all of you deserve it. I hope that every good memory makes up for every bad one, though unfortunately, healing doesn’t work like an exchange, does it?

As the Fire Lord, certain duties demand my presence in the other nations. So, as much as I wish my lack of responses were due to a secret vacation of mine, they are more like business trips. Might as well call me the Fire Businessman now. (Don’t let anyone read this to Toph because she most certainly will call me that.)

It was nice hearing from you. Send as many letters as you please. Even if I’m not home, I’ll promise I’ll read them. By the way, how are your little waterbenders doing? I’m sure it was harder to handle Aang, you know, back in our teaching-the-Avatar days.

Best,

Zuko”

He sat down and frowned at the piece of paper. It’s not that he wanted to hide things from her, or his friends. But it was almost embarrassing to write and send a letter describing his last weeks. It was a path of emotions he was unready to walk through. She would probably forget it in a couple of weeks anyway, and then he would be able to tell her everything.

“Dear Zuko,

Or should I say, Dear Fire Liar?

Even though I don’t have a lot of time in my hands, I still managed to get some information about your mysterious “business” trips. Sokka’s been of great help, for once, and a little bird told him that people from the Northern Water Tribe have spotted you in very weird places. But being honest, I still don’t know what is it that you’re hiding so hard. You got yourself an Ice Lady?

On another note, it’s very exciting to see both of the Nations exchanging goods and, you know, not trying to slit each other’s throats. I always wanted the war to end of course, but it was very hard to imagine a future so full of prosperity. It’s hard to grasp sometimes.

I hope I’m not getting overly emotional but it makes me think about my mom a lot. She never lived in a world without war in it, isn’t that fucked up? Some days I feel a strange guilt running through my body because I get to move on and she will always stay there. This seems like I’m getting all over the place. I don’t usually say this stuff to anybody, but I know you would get it. And today seems like a good day for letting it all out.

When I’m down, I like to think that she sees the world through the eyes of Sokka, or dad’s, or even mine. It’s silly, I know. But it makes me feel closer to her.

Well, enough about me. Tell me more about your trips, about your uncle’s new place. I’m dying to know. Maybe next time you should try doing business in the Southern Water Tribe and pay us a visit. We all miss you!

Hugs,

Katara”

Zuko took a long breath. No amount of tea would cure the unmeasurable shame that he felt reading Katara’s letter. He knew how empathetic she was, and how much he loved her family, and he could never forgive himself for what his family did to the world. Every day he looked at himself in the mirror and was reminded of a past he could never erase, his face became no longer his once his dad put his palm on it.

His sudden state made him forget about Katara’s little quest. He was not only full of shame but also full of passion to help others. Every reminiscent of the war also reminded him of the resilience of people during difficult times. And every time Katara changed the subject, Zuko needed to excruciatingly tell her how much her strength motivated him to be better. And after writing that letter, he decided it was time to invite her to the palace.

[pttwice]

Heyyy :] for Autistic!Tzuyu how do you view the squishy ball because I probably just over thought it as there's a variety (e.g foam or ones with things inside)

Also how would Mina, Momo and Sana deal with Tzuyu I think it would be a bit hard yet very wholesome.

Have a good day, night, afternoon :)) take a break if you need to

hiya anon! :) i imagined it something a lot like these:

it would have to be firm enough but still soft to squeeze properly. for jeong and nayeon since they're little autistic!tzu's primary caregivers, they would have gone through a few versions to find the right one.

they would have tried the foamier ones but quickly realized those were too easy to tear through

they absolutely avoid the ones with any fillings because if they break open, they don't want tzu to potentially try to eat the filling and get sick

she has a big oral fixation and they're always watching to make sure tzu doesn't put something in her mouth she could choke on or something that would make her sick or damage her teeth

for these slightly harder ones, they’re perfect for little tzu to squish enough but also if she feels the need to chew on something and she doesn't have poppy with her or a pacifier, these are safe. if they tear, then there's no worry that she'll be swallowing anything she shouldn't!

misamo taking care of tzu:

it would take a lot of work for the three of them to take care of tzu since she's so attached to jeong and nayeon

at first tzu wouldn't want to be with anyone at all other than her mamas but once she gets more familiar with misamo being around and then with them alone without her mamas in the house, she'd slowly get used to it

sana would be the best with tzu since she loves playing games

sana would be able to just play tzu's games even if they make absolutely no sense and she wouldn't be afraid to embarrass herself in front of the others if it made tzu laugh

tzu would sometimes only speak chinese sometimes which would be really hard, especially for momo, but she would never let it stop her from trying to communicate with tzu

momo would have a chinese to japanese dictionary, a chinese to korean dictionary, and even a chinese to english dictionary

momo would also constantly be putting everything into a translator, even for super easy words she knew just to make sure she was taking care of tzu properly

mina would love love love bathing tzu (super specific but i think she'd bond the best with tzu during bath time)

mina would love watching her splash around and hand mina every single one of her bath toys just for mina to give them back to her to line up on the side of the tub

for meltdowns, misamo wouldn't know how to handle them at first but they'd do literal hours of research and talking to 2yeon to make sure the next time they were watching tzu they were able to take care of her

mina would be the best helping with tzu's meltdowns since she just has a very calming personality and she would always make sure to have tzu's bag nearby

misamo would love the "tzu check" (checking tzuyu's bag before she left anywhere to make sure she had all the items she needed to go out into the world)

the tzu check would become such a common thing when misamo took care of tzu that they'd do their own checks even without tzu since they realized they stopped forgetting things so much whenever they went out

all in all misamo would have a little bit of trouble taking care of tzu at first but they're all willing to put in the time and work to earn tzu's trust to take care of her and love her almost as much as her mamas (because no one loves tzu like jeong and nayeon)

also thank you for caring! i've been a little stressed because of classes, but writing gives me a break (even though most of my work is writing lol) and i love writing for all of you :))

[caralara]

"and also I have a lot of complicated and sad feelings about harry I need to process!" Can you expand on this? (If it's not personal of course)

oooooof anon I don’t even know where to start

Maybe with the fact I’m severely sleep deprived after the week of wembley? And that I will probably change my mind tomorrow after a good nights sleep again? Or that I’m super sad and a little embarrassed about having these feelings and thoughts in the first place?

At almost every harry show I’ve had an existential crisis at some point during the concert, of “what am I doing here? Why am I like this? Why do I spend so much money and time and energy and attention on this? Why don’t I have more of a ‘real life’? Why am I such a loser? Why do I feel like I missed my chances and became a little-below-average-adult instead of the special unique star my mum always said I would be? Why do I know all these thoughts are there bc I’m depressed and a little too self aware and hanging on by a thread, it feels like, desperately trying to find the next thing to look forward to in order to not notice how little I feel overall anymore and how little I care at all about keeping on living?” (Wow that got depressing sorry)

But this does kind of take me out of the experience for a second. And then when I see harry. i see him and his face up close. And I’ve always prided myself on the fact I’m extremely good at reading people, (let’s forget for a second I could always be wrong obv for the sake of this explanation), and what I see when I look at harry is a completely crafted stage persona (fair enough) but like - it didn’t always feel like this last year? Idk, maybe it’s the combination of this being a stadium tour, all the drama that has happened since last tour, then the having to camp for days to be able to see him close-ish, being surrounded by the absolute nastiest bullies with TPWK tattoos you can imagine (literally half of them are bullies I’m not joking), the entire feather boa cowboy hats “fuck me fuck me fuck me” thing solo harries have going on, harry doing gender reveals with such glee (???? Like shouldn’t we like stop doing that? I get you love babies harry but, shouldn’t especially harry know gender conformity reinforcement isn’t like, it?), reacting to all these yuck and nasty signs, re-encouraging the environment-catastrophes that are feather boas and single use cowboy hats ?? So I see him several times performing and he’s got all these amazing songs that mean so so so much to me and I see him going through the motions (fair enough) and not really feel most of the songs, and all of that just makes it look so - inauthentic? Idk. It’s stupid but it makes me feel like he’s a sellout, and that’s just not fair for me to say or think, and I know that, but I can’t help it. And then today he hangs with Shelli Azoff who’s been to court bc she’s abusing her sevice staff??? And it does make me wonder am I just deluding myself? How much is true and how much isn’t of what we make him out to be? Genuinely, him bathing in and demanding for more of the literal worship of his actual person gave me the Ick so bad yesterday. And then again he sings sweet creature and kisses his cross necklace right after. And then again It’s probably (as it always has) much more to do with my ego than anything else, and being upset he didn’t even acknowledge me for a second while literally standing in front of him with my big ass birthday sign. So just me being a sad little kid who’s feelings got hurt bc I didn’t get the attention for my birthday from the boy I like the way I had way too high expectations of.

All these thoughts are jumbled, and I’m crying and I’m tired but you asked so you shall receive.

Im just tired of having to mentally defend harry when he’s clearly wanting it exactly the way it is - saying he’s never been happier over and over on stage. So. Do with that what you will.

[septembersghost]

I literally can't listen to Unchained Melody without fucking sobbing

this won't help because it's a you-had-to-be-there kind of story, and possibly you also have to know my dad, but imma tell it anyway - one time when i was a kid, and visiting him in the summer, the righteous brothers version of that song came on the radio in his truck. and i had just seen the movie ghost for the first time (which my mom regretted because she felt i was too young for it, but it was one of her good friend's favorite movie), and it had low-key freaked me out. not patrick swayze or demi moore or whoopi of course, but the malevolent spirits that, like, tear ghosts away? (i've seen it since, but it's been a loooong time.) anyway, i associated the song with the movie, so i asked him to turn the station. or maybe i had a tape with me, i subjected him to my music however i could haha. we were going to the grocery store. we shop, we get out to the parking lot, and he's going to take the groceries out of the cart, and he acts like he's going to ask me to do something, and instead launches into this very loud, very dramatic rendition of unchained melody. in the parking lot. my dad is a boisterous, gregarious (and can be confrontational) person (and my mom is a great people person, how they got a painfully shy introvert as a daughter is anyone's guess), and he loves to sing. at a volume. he's filled in for the cantor at shul. he never quite understood my stage fright with my own singing, and tbh a big dose of that fearlessness really would've helped me. but imagine being, idk, at most ten years old, and your dad is like, "ohhhhhhhh myyyyyy LOOOOVE MY DAAARLIN' i've hungered for your TOUUUCH a long, lonely tiiiime. TIIIIIIIME GOOOOOES BY so sloooowwwly and time can do so much, are you STILL *MIIIIIIIINE*?" deranged behavior. but i was basically crylaughing. and i'm like, what on earth, why would you do it that way? and he's like, it was good enough for the king 🤷🏻‍♂️

years pass and i somewhat forget about this, and didn't know the reference (i got the elvis part, but not the specific moment), and at some point as a young teenager, for who knows what reason, i run across the performance from june 26, 1977. as previously mentioned, i was an elvis dabbler growing up as far as the hits go, but didn't know a lot of specifics. his presence was always there in a diaphonous way. so this is...somewhere on the internet in low quality (not youtube! i looked it up, it didn't exist yet? maybe it was a fansite, this would've been around the time a little less conversation was remixed and having a moment), in the middle of the afternoon at my desk in my room after school. i can still picture that room, my chair, the bookshelf. (funny how certain moments are like that - music tends to cement things in my mind more than anything else. there's this lyric from a song called "this is one of those moments" in yentl - i will always remember this chair, that window, the way the light streamed in...). there's no real reason for me to have recall of this, but i do. in the intervening years, unchained melody had remained this hilarious, somewhat embarrassing, image of my father. and this video just...almost hurts too much to look at, it's so heart-shattering. it just had me in tears. and i thought...this isn't something i can delve into right now, and i put it away, as if it went into a box on a shelf in the attic of my head. and he sort of resided there. waiting for the day when it was time to take him down and understand. suffice to say, obviously, he's not waiting up there anymore. he's in the heart chamber now.

it's such a tremendous and yet tremulous performance, it's almost like something in him so incandescent had to blaze forth, had to give that, had to prove it, had to exude the full beauty of his voice, had to be able to smile at that audience in spite of everything. it's very near...how to phrase this? transforming it into a sacred song, it's like he made it gospel. because he had to.

the conclusion here being, yes, same. it breaks me. but the little girl in my memory can still also hear my dad and the giggling, and i don't actually think elvis would mind that part. i think it might make him smile in that same way. so maybe we can hold close to a bit of both. god speed your love to me.

[rose-tinted-juls]

i literally wrote this in november and left it in my drafts why am i so stupid? anyway. life is busy when you're in your final year of uni that i can tell now but re-reading this chap of ma&thp gave me the long desired feeling of normalcy, so thank you, mackie dear <3

1. THE AIRPORT SCENE I'M SOBBING. the "oh my god is that charles leclerc" was so perfect there even if it's so simple god i love chris. "charles leclerc wants you, could have stopped there" OMG if he said that to me i would literally die on spot. good thing he never will

2. CHRIS BROUGHT CHARLES FLOWERS 😭 AN ACTUAL BOUQUET 😭😭 "just because" 😭 i honestly can't. just simply can't.

3. "anything you want to know, i came tonight with my life story ready." - "her dad'll like that a lot." so simple yet so perfect again. i love charles' interactions with her family.

4. also i just love how close chris and her dad is. like. i 'm just so soft rn

5. when charles didn't say no to the wine bc he doesn't want to offend Cindy and then keeping Chris frim saying anything about him not actually liking wine, i LOVE how real he is. if this ain't me anytime i'm a guest at someone's

6. SHUT UP THE SCENE WHERE BILL ASKS CHARLES ABOUT WHAT HE LIKES MOST ABOUT CHRIS 😭😭😭 his answer is just too much for my little heart. "...how lucky i am to have her in my life." JUST SHUT UP. i literally can't take it (+ "now that i'm properly embarrassed for the rest of my life" lmao love that line)

7. cindy and charles looking through the photo albums, soooo lovely so cute so soft, i want this

8. oh WAIT that paragraph about the childhood photos and the protective parent act that charles wonders about. WAIT. that's such a good paragraph put in such a clever way, i love it. "you can't be mean to someone when you look at them and imagine the tiny version of them playing dress-up in a princess themed bedroom" + "he should get a few baby pictures from his mom, he thinks. to show them to chris, just so that she isn't allowed to hurt him." I'M SCREAMING WHY IS IT SO GOOD

9. "[charles] is hit with a sudden wave of gratitude towards the way he's been wholly and completely welcomed into her life like this. the night of endless nerves aside, the excitement of learning all the chapter of her life that predate him is something he isn't going to take for granted." i mean. just these lines. they melted me. i'm just a puddle. a crying mess. why is he so sweet 😭 why do you have to make him so sweet, mack 😭

10. i love charles and chase's conversation about racing stuff. i just love it. also how charles pays attention to shen chris falls asleep so that he can tell her later on when she'll ask, that is just pure sweetness over there. but the whole conversation about car racing is just perfect. and when charles just goes for it, "taking a shot in the dark", asking what drafting is, i just felt so proud lmao i would never be able to ask that question i'm so bad team social anxiety

11. this following conversation: "promise you won't get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear today. at least wait until i'm there to witness it." - "i can always outrun you, they say you only have tk be faster than the other guy." - "you wouldn't let me get eaten by a bear." - "well, i might." - "wouldn't." - "would." I WANT THIS. I NEED THIS. WHEN IS IT MY TURN. i'm just such a sucker for this type of couple's banter

12. charles getting lost during his run is just so funny, but also when he's thinking about how nice it is to not worry about anyone watching him. "here it's just him, just charles. there's nothing special about it, which is what makes it so fucking special." poor baby i can't even imagine the life he has to live in this aspect. this paragraph was perfect to remind me how deep down he's just a human being like anyone else which i (and so many of us) tend to forget bc he's like a literal god and like idk. this just hit me deep in my chest.

13. "he's not french. monégasque, and very proud." this whole part is just *chefs kiss* omg i love chris.

14. THAT PART WITH CHARLES AND THE "DO YOU WANT ME TO BE JEALOUS?" AND THE "SHAME, I WAS GOING TO PUT ON A SHOW." OMG JEALOUS!CHARLES IS BE SOMETHING I'D DIE TO SEE especially in this universe

15. "her laughter, musical and infectious, is all he hears when the entire place laughs." AND "even the eax dhe plays with the ribnon on the bouquets she hold-something so small and trivial, it all captivates him." AND MOST OF ALL THE "he finds himself swept away by a tide of emotions, some messy kaleidoscope of feelings that defy articulation. there's something magnetic about her, an irresistible urhe to kiss her that seems to linger in the back of his mind, always. it's all lined up for him, a million synchronized harmonies that underscore every interaction. the changing colours of leaves and the smell of rain on a pine patio, the hesrtbeat of a conversation, a light in every roo.. his perception of his own emotions, the way he feels about this fucking woman, jt's so clear it becomes cloudy. every stolen glance and shared smile is this integral part of their connection, this thing that he can't let go of." OKAY POET GO OFF. MACK YOU ACTUAL GODDESS OF WORDS I'M IN SUCH AWE OF YOU. SUCH A GORGEOUS PART. SO SO SO PERFECT. brb gonna go sob for a while

16. "may your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old-fashioned enough to last forever." why is this line so genuinely perfect? like this punch-in-the-chest and make-your-mind-spin kind of perfect.

17. charles worrying about chris' speech 😭😭 (i mean same here but he's just so soft and so smitten and so lovely) but like "you know that you're the kind of person who is easy to love, yes?" i'm actually sobbing now 😭 and the "he's smart enough to know when it's time to just dance with his girlfriend." where are the boys/men like this in real life 😭😭

18. the "she opens her fucking email. he's in love with her, and she's opening her fucking email while telling him it's not possible." hits SO HARD. an actual punch in the gut. so good.

19. and this deserves its own point: "there's nothing more he can add to the conversation, not now. not when he's just ran face-first into a brick wall off i love you." awh charles you're in love with her 😭😭😭 and you finally realised it yourself 😭😭 i genuinely have tears in my eyes. actual tears. i'm.... wow.

oh my lovely lovely mackie, you true inspiration and goddess. this chapter brought me so much joy, more than you can imagine (i mean not like all the previous ones didn't do the same but this was just a whole new level of that). thank you. i wish i could tell you this in person just so you could see how sincerely i mean it, and that i could give you a big hug to express my overwhelming appreciation for you. love you loads

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—07. Homegrown —word count: 15.8k —warnings: none :) love, mackie... I don't really have much to say lol... just that I love this chapter and it got a little out of hand. I hope you love it like I do!

Chris takes a personal day at work on the Thursday Charles gets into Georgia. She wants to make sure she’s the one picking him up from the airport, doesn’t want to spend a single second longer than she needs to without seeing him, hugging him, kissing him. 

His flight lands at 10:15, but by the time he gets through customs, baggage, and calls Chris three times after getting lost in the Atlanta airport, it’s 11:30. She finally finds him outside the Maynard Terminal, backpack slung over his shoulders, suitcase next to him. He looks so perfectly like a boyfriend, she thinks. “I can see you,” she says. “Do you see my car?”

“No,” he laughs, and it pours from the car speakers like sweet honey. “I don’t.”

“Okay, well, stay put, then. I’m coming to you.” She manages to make her way across two lanes to be right on the curb, and then he spots her, his whole expression taking shape when their eyes lock. She rolls her window down as he approaches, and slots the car into park. “Oh my god,” she giggles. “Is that Charles Leclerc?”

He rolls his eyes. “Open the trunk?”

“Charles Leclerc wants me to open the trunk?” She says, pushing the button on her door-panel to pop the hatch open. 

“Charles Leclerc wants you,” he says, hoisting his suitcase up into the back of the car, tossing his backpack there, too. “Could have stopped there,” he chuckles, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. She blushes, a cheek-aching smile still on her face. He slams the trunk shut and makes his way around the car, opening the passenger door. “Hi, pretty girl,” he properly greets her. “What’s this?” He asks.

Sitting there, on the passenger seat, is a bouquet of flowers. Red roses, white roses, and white carnations for passion, new romance, and luck. Filler greens and red estelles for encouragement. Manilla and sheer white tissue paper wrap the flowers, a dark red ribbon tied into a bow around the stems. Next to it, is a matching envelope with his name scribbled in purple pen. Inside the envelope is a white greeting card with “just because” printed in simple, black lettering, a handwritten note from Chris on the inside. 

Chris smiles. “They’re for you.”

“For me?” He asks, the hint of a giggle in his tone. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Chris shrugs, watches him carefully pick up the flowers and the card and climb into the car where he further examines them. “It’s not a big deal,” she says, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “I had to go with Hannah to the florist this morning.”

“No, it’s so cool. Nobody has ever gotten me flowers before.”

Chris frowns. “Never?”

“I mean,” he shrugs, “my mum once, but that doesn’t count,” and then he starts to open the envelope, but Chris stops him.

“No, please,” she says, her hand covering his. “I can’t watch you read it, I’ll die.”

He laughs, “you’re so cute.”

Her face stays straight and solemn. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” he sets the flowers and the card down securely between his feet. “I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Chris can feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. God, she feels like such a child. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to kiss you, now.”

“Okay,” she giggles. “You’re going to kiss me, now.”

His lips meet hers in a tender, lingering kiss. It’s like they hadn’t been apart at all, the way their mouths perfectly fit together. His hand finds her cheek, thumb moving carefully over her skin, letting her deepen the kiss. They let themselves just be for a few moments, to let everything else fade away and cling onto their perfect moment. “Seriously,” he says when they pull apart, and then he gives her another quick peck. “Thank you,” and then another on her forehead. “I missed you. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she nods. “Hungry. Very hungry. How are you?”

“Hungry, also.”

“How hungry?”

“Very.”

Chris nods, kisses him again, just because she can. Because she couldn’t for so many days. “I know a place, but it’s a surprise.”

It’s a twenty-three minute drive to Pig’n’Chik Barbeque in Northern Atlanta. Charles is visibly apprehensive of the little red building and the parking lot filled with the aroma of southern barbeque, but he keeps his commentary to himself. Chris knows it’s probably a little overkill, the hole-in-the wall joint being even a little too gimmicky for her taste, but that’s the whole point. The place is supposed to be gimmicky, while also being good. Chris used to love this place as a little kid—Bill would always take the kids there whenever they’d gone to the city. It was his favorite place then, and so it will always hold a place in her heart. 

Charles holds open the door, a bell attached to it announcing their entrance, eliciting a greeting from the staff, a “Hey, guys! How’re you doing?”

“Good, thank you,” Chris smiles, moving through the restaurant towards the diner-style bar at the back. She holds her hand out behind her for Charles, turns to tell him: “You might not have been able to get a seat at your sushi bar, but I can get us up at the Pig’n’Chik bar,” she laughs. 

Charles matches her laugh, a playful eye roll and the shake of his head before they’re sitting down on the red leather barstools. 

She’s telling him before they even have the menus in front of them what they need to order; fried pickles to split, lemonade to drink because it’s not pig’n’chik without their lemonade. She’s going to order the shrimp and grits and he absolutely needs to have the catfish.

When he cocks his head at the idea of… eating… catfish… she tells him he’s not allowed to look it up, and that he also has to trust her. “It’s the best thing on the menu,” she says. 

Charles quirks a brow. “Then why aren’t you eating it?”

“Because the hushpuppies will kill me,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Honestly, you probably shouldn’t eat them, either.” The grease that comes along with eating a deep-fried batter ball isn’t good for anyone’s system, especially not someone who isn’t used to this kind of food. The last thing she needs this weekend is a boyfriend who can’t be more than three feet from a bathroom. 

It’s an hour and a half, at least, until they’re pulling into what Chris affectionately calls her “driveway.” Charles thinks that anyone else would more likely call it a dirt road. A trail, even, that turns into a driveway after the trees clear and you can actually see the house. 

“This is all yours?” he asks, swears her yard is the size of his apartment lobby. 

She nods. “I mean, it’s mostly trees, but, yeah.”

He’s taken on a tour of the old-style farmhouse, which, by the way, is so incredibly her you’d think the place was built for her—lots of beadboard, all this delicate woodworking that a FaceTime call has never been able to do justice. Thick glass windows with the frame painted over, no central heating or cooling, a couple window air conditioners and old radiators to boot. The most like her, though, is the back porch. It’s screened in, has a creek to the floor that the dusty, antique rugs can only attempt to muffle. There’s two couches that couldn’t match less, but still somehow go with each other, both cozy with throw pillows and cushions and warmth. The whole place smells like her, sounds like her, feels like her. He’s immediately comfortable. 

Chris and Charles spend most of their afternoon trying to plan out their evening. Starting tomorrow morning, their weekend is on a strict schedule, so they want to make the most of their free time tonight before their dinner with her family. They want to make the most of it so badly that they can’t decide on anything at all, and end up falling asleep on her living room couch. 

When Chris’ alarm goes off—the one she’d set the first time she caught herself dozing off, realizing Charles was already passed out next to her—they grumpily get ready to head over to her parents’ house. It’s then, while Charles navigates around Chris and the countertop of her makeup, that she tells him all about Thanksgiving, about her mom pointing out the hickey, and she offers up a warning. “They’re going to pretend they hate you for like, half an hour,” she tells him. “Pretend you’re intimidated.”

“And…” Charles begins, running gelled fingers through his hair. “What if they actually don’t like me?”

“My mom likes everyone,” she says, gestures away at his words. “And my Dad, well, you’ve already met him. He liked you good enough then.”

“He liked me enough to talk to me for ten minutes,” Charles counters. “That doesn’t mean he liked me enough to date his daughter.”

Chris smiles in the mirror, carefully applying her lipstick. “Lucky for you,” she says, “he doesn’t get a say.”

– – –

His leg bounces for the entirety of the ten-minute drive, so much so that at a stop light he can feel how much he shakes the car. Despite that, he doesn’t realize just how nervous he is until they’re in the driveway—which is just as long and trail-like as Chris’ is. Their house is bigger, though. Much bigger. 

His palms are clammy, and he wipes them off on his jeans—should he have worn something nicer than jeans? Jeans are really all he brought besides clothes for the wedding, for sleeping, for working out in. Jeans are fine. Jeans are good. Their driveway is a dirt road, jeans are good. 

“Relax,” Chris says, trying (and failing) to hold back a little chuckle. “It’s not that serious.” He rolls his eyes because it quite literally is that serious. You only get one chance to make a first impression on your girlfriend’s parents, and when your girlfriend is as close to their family as Chris is, it’s an impression you’d really rather not screw the fuck up. “And the longer we sit here, the longer they’re going to watch from the kitchen window.”

With a deep breath, he climbs out of the car, walks up the rest of the drive and onto the porch a pace behind Chris. She raises her hand to knock twice, turning the doorknob and letting herself in before anyone could even attempt to answer the knock. He steps in behind her, into a wallpapered entryway with a tall table full of keys and pictures and discarded mail on one side, and a wooden bench with tan throw pillows on the other side. “Mom! Dad! We’re here!” She shouts into the house. 

A woman’s voice calls back, “in the kitchen! Dad’s upstairs in the office.”

Chris slips off her shoes and Charles follows suit, slotting them under the wooden bench next to hers. He hadn’t worn a coat, but she ducks into a hall closet to hang hers up. He’d worn a sweatshirt over a t-shirt, and he’s pretty sure he’d already sweat through the t-shirt. 

He thinks he could smell his way to the kitchen, the way the scent of the home cooked dinner fills the entire house. He follows behind Chris like a lost puppy into the kitchen, and as soon as she turns the corner and walks through the archway, she’s being greeted by her mom, wrapped into an oven-mitt clad hug. He gets a perfect view of her mom, gaze slotted over Chris’ shoulder. She’s not so scary, he thinks. He can recognize more than one of Chris’ features on her face—in the way she smiles and the shape of her eyes, too. That’s where her smile comes from, and her eyes, too. 

Over her shoulder, Chris’ mom opens her eyes, waves a bangle-bracelet clad, oven-mitt covered hand in his direction. Charles steps fully into the kitchen, determined to make a good first impression. “And  I take it this,” her mom says, pulling away from the hug, “is the charming gentleman you’ve been telling me nothing about?”

Chris laughs, catching his eyes when she says: “Yes, Mom, this is Charles. Charles, this is my mom, Cindy.”

“Hi,” Charles offers a handshake. His friends had reminded him—briefed him, basically—that Americans are fond of their personal space, and he figures if Chris is right, and they are going to be playing the intimidation game with him, there’s no chance he’s getting anything more than a— 

“Oh, please,” Cindy laughs, swatting his hand out of the way. “We hug in this family,” and he’s already being pulled in. His surprised eyes catch Chris’, who looks back at him with an oh, my God. I’m so sorry, glance, which makes him chuckle. If this is what pretending not to like him looks like, he’d hate to see what actually liking him is all about. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he hums, finally pulling away from the hug. “I have heard so much about you.”

“I can’t say the same,” Cindy laughs pointedly at Chris. “But what I have heard has all been good.”

“Well, anything you want to know, I came tonight with my life story ready.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Cindy nods. “Her dad’ll like that a lot.”

“Mama, where’s Beans?” Chris asks, and before he knows it he’s following her out into the backyard for the introduction that he knows is actually the most important. As they stepped onto the lush, green grass, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. In the corner of the yard, the aforementioned Beans, a friendly Golden Retriever, lays beneath the growing shade of an old oak tree. The fur around his snout is a distinguished shade of white, and he looks up with wise, kind eyes as Chris approaches, his tail shaking slowly at her presence. 

“Here he is, my Beanie Baby,” Chris says with affectionate enthusiasm, crouching down to stroke the dog’s ears. He follows suit, squatting down beside her. “Beanie, this is Charles.”

Charles approaches cautiously, fully aware of just how important this introduction was. He extends his hand, letting Beans sniff it gently. The elderly Golden accepts the gesture, the pace of his tail wagging picking up speed. “Hey Beans,” Charles said softly, voice warm. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Beans responds with a content sigh, his old eyes conveying the years of love and happiness he’s had in this very yard. He leans into Charles’ touch, relishing in the attention.

Chris laughs, “I think he likes you. He’s a bit slower these days, but he’s still the sweetest dog you’ll ever meet.”

After much convincing, and the promise (and fulfillment) of several treat bribes, they’re able to convince Beans to come back into the house, where he curls up on his bed with his milkbones. 

Chris’ dad, who joins everyone else downstairs ten minutes later, pops into the dining room while Chris and Charles are setting the table. Chris looks up in the direction of his footsteps with that radiant smile, warm eyes, like always. “Hi, Dad,” she says, her voice drenched in affection. 

“Mums,” the man smiles softly, greeting her with open arms and a gentle hug. 

“You remember Charles,” she says, and he steps forward, leaving the silverware settings on the tablecloth. Charles extends his hand first, is met with Bill’s firm, heavy handshake. 

“Mr. Elliott, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” His voice is stiff, polite, but there’s still a touch of earnestness that betrays his nerves. “Thank you for having me, I’ve heard a lot about you and your family.”

“Now, son, if I’m bein’ completely honest with you. I never thought I was gonna see you again after Texas. I wasn’t feelin’ you out the way I should’a been, if you know what I mean?”

Charles nods, even though he thinks he picked up about seventy-five percent of what was said. “Yes, sir.” He thinks he’d probably answer any question thrown his way, if it meant when he left tonight it was in her parents’ good graces. 

Her parents, Bill especially, do maintain their intimidating presence for just as long as Chris says they will. Sat at the dinner table with all of them, next to Chris and across from Cindy and Bill, he can’t help but feel the weight of the situation as they all eat. 

“So, Charles,” Bill says, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of wine. They’re all nursing glasses of wine, even Charles, who despite never having been particularly fond of the drink, was too scared to say no when Cindy offered. He’d glared daggers at Chris to keep her from speaking up. “Monaco, right?”

Charles nods. “That’s right.”

“A racecar driver from the rich and famous’ playground,” Bill continued. His voice is low and inquisitive. “I’m sure you can see why I might be a lil’...” he chuckles, “worried about you.”

Next to him, Chris cocks her head defensively, leans forward in her seat. “What are you trying to imply, Dad?” Charles unconsciously moves his hand to her lower back in an attempt to reassure her silently. He knows why Bill’s asking questions like this, he knows the reputation certain aspects of his life carry with them. It does put a butterfly or two in his stomach that she’s so eager to jump to his defense, though. 

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just quite the party lifestyle you live, isn’t it, Charles?”

“I don’t know if I would say that,” Charles laughs awkwardly. Chris takes a big sip of her wine, leans back in her chair again. He moves his hand from her back to her leg, where she interlocks it with her own under the table. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ll go out with my friends when I’m in town, or we have something to celebrate, but… I’ve honestly become more of a home person these last years.”

Bill raises his brows, takes another bite of his food. “Really?” Charles nods. “That must be difficult, son, all the traveling you do. Alotta’ people in alotta’ cities. How d’ya handle that?”

Charles smiles, fully aware that Bill is just attempting to gauge his character. “It can be lonely at times, but I'm committed to a steady relationship. I like to think I’ve learned to balance my racing career and my personal life.”

“A steady relationship with our daughter.”

Chris squeezes his hand, he squeezes back, smiles softly. “A steady, committed relationship with your daughter, yes.”

Cindy takes a sip of her wine, smiles into the red liquid. She seems satisfied. Bill, not so much. “And what is it that you like most about her?” He asks. 

“Dad,” Chris laughs pointedly at her father, a hint of disbelief in the action. “That’s enough.”

“Sorry, Charles,” Cindy interrupts with an awkward chuckle, an attempt to keep the peace before Chris lunges over the table at her dad. Charles isn’t offended by the question, so he wonders if maybe Cindy is apologizing to Chris more than she is to Charles. “He doesn’t mean to come off so investigative. Chris is just our baby, everyone has always looked out for her.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” he nods, takes a bite of food. “As for the question nobody wants you to ask me,” he looks to Bill, remnants of his food still in his mouth. He speaks with the napkin over his lips. “It’s hard to even find a place to start with that, right? I mean, she…” he glances to Chris, finds that she’s already listening to him intently. He smiles, “you are an incredible person,” and he has to look away, because if he keeps going while staring into her brown eyes, he’s going to be as red as a tomato, completely and utterly smitten. “If you really want me to pick something, I guess I would say her kindness, and I’m sure you’re both familiar enough with her heart that I don’t need to ramble on about how lucky I am to have her in my life.”

Chris sinks in her seat, finishes off what’s left of her wine. “Well, now that I’m properly embarrassed for the rest of my life.”

Cindy laughs. “Oh, Chrissy, I haven’t even gotten the baby pictures out yet.” Chris turns to bury herself in Charles’ arm. He can feel how warm her face is through the fabric of his sweatshirt, and it makes him laugh. 

“Oh, my God,” she mumbles.

Charles’ ears perk up. “There’s baby pictures?”

Chris nods against his arm. “She’s a scrapbooker.”

He’s so boggled by the way that they can just switch up after that, the way that they stop trying to intimidate him and welcome him with open arms. He thinks that his Mum could never, that she knows within the first thirty seconds of meeting someone if she likes them or not. When it comes to Pascale Leclerc, you’re forever categorized by her first impression. He didn’t tell Chris that, because he didn’t want to worry her more than she already was in her sweats and messy-hair in Abu Dhabi. 

After the meal had been cleaned up, the four of them sat comfortably in the living room of Chris’ childhood home. Their home is so nice, so warm and welcoming.  He wonders if it’s always been such a comfortable place. 

Chris is sprawled out on the corner-seat of the sectional couch, Beans taking up the seat next to her, his head in her lap while she pets him mindlessly. Charles sits on the floor, back to the corner cushion, legs outstretched in front of him under the coffee table. Bill is in the recliner in the corner, working his way through a newspaper crossword puzzle, half-dozing off every ten minutes. 

Cindy carries a cardboard box down the stairs, sets it down on the coffee table in the middle of the family room. It’s full to the brim with worn, leather-bound scrapbooks, with Christyn Claire neatly written on the side of the box. She sits down on the floor next to him. Carefully, she pulls one out and gently sets it on the table, brushing the dust off the black leather cover. 

Charles watches as she flips open the pages, each one filled with their own vibrant photos, handwritten notes, and little trinkets that tell a story of young Chris. Charles can’t help the smile on his face when he sees the images of her in every stage of life, from a curious toddler with messy, curly pigtails to a teenager with the same smile he can’t get enough of. 

Cindy’s eyes sparkle with pride, and she has an anecdote for each and every photo. He’s captivated by it, not just the snapshots, but also the obvious love Cindy carries for her daughter. 

“This is Chrissy on the first day of school,” She explained, pointing to a picture of a young girl with a backpack almost as big as herself. “She was so excited to learn, has always been eager to take on new challenges.” Charles nods, hangs onto every word she says. “She’s always been a quick learner, even then.”

Cindy continues to flip through the pages, her and Charles silently sharing in knowing smiles at photos they both know Chris would find particularly embarrassing, making sure she doesn’t catch onto their shared moment from her seat on the couch. Cindy reveals photos from family vacations, birthdays, and school events. Her tales of Chris’ adventures—combined with Chris’ personal renditions added in—make for quite a delightful, and humorous, evening. 

“Ah, this one,” Cindy chuckles as she turns the page, revealing a picture of a grinning Chris covered head to toe in colorful paint. “We had an art day in the backyard, and Chrissy decided she'd rather paint herself than the paper.”

He laughed along, felt like he was growing more and more connected to Chris and her family with every shared memory. Part of him wonders if this is still a part of the protective parent act. If it is, it’s definitely doing its job. You can’t be mean to someone when you look at them and imagine the tiny version of them playing dress-up in a princess themed bedroom, or helping wash Dad’s car, or taking a nap at the beach on a mermaid towel. He should get a few baby pictures from his mom, he thinks. To show them to Chris, just so that she isn’t allowed to hurt him. 

“She’s always had a big heart,” Cindy said, her smile warm. “Her friends were like extended family,” she continues, pointing out a picture of Chris and several other little children. She points to a blonde, “You’ve met Hannah, right?”

“We’re going there, next, Ma,” Chris interjects. 

“Oh, well. This is her when she was five. I think Chris invited her to spend the night for weeks at a time.”

Charles nods, everything he knows about her, the way that she makes friends with anyone she interacts with, it all tracks, can all be seen in these pictures. He thinks that he could sit on the floor all night and go through every single picture in every single scrapbook, and still wouldn’t have enough, wouldn’t know enough about her. 

– – –

They leave the Elliott’s house a little after nine, and the air outside is cooler, now, the day fully transitioned into night. Charles sits in the passenger seat, eyeing Chris’ ability to perfectly maintain a speed two under the limit, and the way that she flipped her brights on everytime another car wasn’t cruising down the road. It seemed like this entire town was half-covered in wooded areas, so he supposes it’s better to keep an eye out for any wild animals. The warmth of the evening experience with her parents still radiates through him, but their conversation is now focused on their next destination; Chase and Hannah’s house. 

Chris, in the driver’s seat, is more animated than ever. She was preparing him carefully for the meeting, the anticipation of how her best friend and brother would perceive him hung in the air. She explained on the drive from the airport earlier that day that she’d “promised Hannah she would meet you before the wedding.”

As they rolled to a stop at a red light, Charles cast a quick glance over to her, feeling the weight of her guidance. “What should I know about them? Any advice on how to impress them?”

“Gosh,” she’d said, “I don’t know. Hannah’s easy. Chase is weird, but, just talk about cars or something. He really likes, um,” she pauses. “He races with you… from Australia, I think.”

Charles mulled over the comment, committing it to memory. There’s only one Australian he can think of racing against. “Daniel?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “Daniel Ricciardo. He really likes him.”

Charles absorbs the information, realizing that Daniel would serve as an excellent conversation starter about racing. The light turns green, and she checks the intersection for a comically long amount of time before proceeding. He does everything he can not to laugh, and is hit with a sudden wave of gratitude towards the way he’s been wholly and completely welcomed into her life like this. The night of endless nerves aside, the excitement of learning all the chapters of her life that predate him is something he isn’t going to take for granted. 

– – –

They arrive at Chase and Hannah’s house for a relatively relaxed night in, greeted by the warm glow of a bonfire crackling in the backyard. The air was filled with the smokey scent of burning wood, and the soft lull of a country song pouring from a speaker. 

“Hi!” Hannah calls before the couple is even halfway through the back gate. “Hi, Hi, Hi, oh my gosh!” she squeals, hurrying over to the gate to greet them. “It’s about fucking time,” she adds, pulling Chris into a tight hug. You’d think it was the first time they’d seen each other in weeks, but Charles knew they were together just that morning. “And you,” the blonde continues, “must be Charles. Unlike everyone else around here, I’ve actually heard a lot about you,” she laughs. 

He laughs too, accepts her open-arms for a hug. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

“William Chase,” Hannah calls to the man standing over the fire, a stoker stick in one hand, a glass beer bottle in the other. His head shoots up from the embers when he’s called.  He holds his beer up as a welcoming gesture, but Hannah isn’t satisfied. “Get over here!”

He meets them halfway through the yard, in a part that’s unlit by either the house lights or the glow of the fire. “Hey,” Chase says with a relaxed smile, pulling Chris into a side hug, and then approaching Charles with an outstretched hand. “You must be Charles,” he says, the two exchanging a laid-back handshake before pulling each other into a bro-hug. “It’s good to meet you, man. You want a beer or something?”

“I can get it myself,” Charles assures, “just tell me where they are.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hannah scoffs, “You’re a guest,” she insists, and it is already halfway up the steps of the back porch. “You want one, too, Chris?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Chris smiles, her hand finding his in the space between their bodies, interlocking their fingers and pulling him over to the fire Chase has already returned to. 

Chris and Charles find a cozy spot on the porch swing that sits in front of the firepit, a shared bench that seemed to be the ideal medium between two chairs and sitting on top of each other, perfect for family introductions. They sit side by side, thighs brushing against each other, his arm around her nursing his beer. Charles keeps the swing moving with his feet, but Chris has one leg crossed over the other, the base of her beer bottle leaving a darkened ring of condensation on her jeans everytime she picks it up. 

“You want another one, Chris?” Chase asks, shaking his empty beer bottle by its neck when he heads back inside for another round, and per Hannah’s request, to check on Reid. 

“I’m okay,” Chris smiles. She’s turned fully sideways, now, her back resting against his shoulder, both legs off the ground and onto the other end of the bench. “I’m driving home,” and then she cranes her neck to look at him. “Do you want another?”

“No,” he says, because he’s pretty sure he can already feel her dozing off while they swing, is almost certain it’s going to end up being him driving back to her place tonight. “Thank you, though,” and then he kisses the top of her head, pulls his arm out from under her body weight to wrap around her front lazily. She adjusts to his adjustment, leans into him and finds a comfortable curve in his chest. 

Even among the scent of wood and fresh cut grass and smoke, he’s found himself in the perfect position to smell her hair without even trying. He thinks he’s finally nailed her shampoo, coconut and rose, he’s almost sure of it. 

“Mate, Chris was telling me you’re a Daniel Ricciardo fan?” Charles asks, looking for a way to break the ice into a more active conversation, utilizing the very few tools he has at his disposal. Chase and Hannah seem both way lower-stress than Bill and Cindy did, but he'd still like to leave tonight knowing he made a good impression. Or, at least leave knowing he tried his hardest to make one. 

“Yeah, man. We actually started racing at COTA in 2020, and Renault and Daniel did this thing with our team, gave me a little good-luck message and stuff. It was real cool. I’ve been a fan of him since.”

Surprised, and trying to find common ground, Charles asks: “Do you follow Formula One?”

“You know, I tried after the whole Daniel thing, but,” he shrugs nonchalantly, takes another swig of his beer and leans back in his seat. “Honestly, all respect, but there’s just nothing quite like the roar of a stock car at Daytona for me. It’s like thunder, man.”

Charles nodded, an eager grin on his face. He doesn’t know much about NASCAR, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t study up on it during the flight over. “The sound of those engines at full throttle must be crazy. It’s V8’s, right?”

“Yeah, V8. What are y’all running? Isn’t it hybrids?”

“Yes,” Charles laughs. “They’re crazy with the engineering. Basically, you have a turbo V6 combined with energy recovery systems… it all helps keep us lightweight.”

“That’s another thing that blows my mind, how light your cars are! I know you pull crazy downforce, but I swear it’s a totally different game on an oval, dude. Our cars are like, thirty-three hundo.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. He knew they were heavier, but that’s like… it’s more than double, he thinks, or has to be close to it “Oh, my God!” He laughs, taking another sip of his beer. Chris chuckles, too—he feels it in his chest. He also feels the nonsensical shapes and patterns that she traces over his sweatshirt sleeve while he talks, the way she seems completely lost in toying with the fabric. 

“I know, you guys got fuckin’ feathers compared to us!” Chase gins, joining in on the laughter. 

Charles leans forwards a bit, and when he does it, Chris adjusts her positioning. She’s somehow managed to slide gracefully down until she was curled up on the wooden bench, resting on her side with her head on his tights. She’d found a makeshift pillow in his lap, and he couldn’t mind it less. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he says, checking his watch so that when Chris asks him later tonight ‘when did I fall asleep?’ he can give her a proper answer. “We are all about precision, crazy aero packages. It’s not just about speed and downforce, it has to be managed so perfectly.”

“There ain’t no time for precision when you’re wheel-to-wheel at Talladega. It’s all about survival. We’re out there swapping paint and shit. Bumping and drafting are all a part of the game.”

“How crazy is that?” He questions, even though he doesn’t have more than an educated guess as to what drafting is. “The way the air affects your car when you’re always that close?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t notice it all that much because I’m so used to it, but yeah. We’re always pushing the limits, especially in the high-banked ovals. Drafting is both your best friend and your worst enemy.”

“Drafting, mate,” he peruses, taking a shot in the dark when he says: “that’s like getting the slipstream, no?”

“Exactly, yeah,” Chase nods. “All drag reduction shit.”

“It’s crazy, when we’re wheel-to-wheel, we’ll do about anything not to make contact”

“It’s ‘cause your shit weighs ten pounds,” Chase laughs. “It’ll fly away if there’s any contact.”

They go on like that for some time, comparing technicalities. There are few things Charles appreciates more in life than actually getting to sit down and talk racing with someone—true, technical, perfectionist racing. There’s no investigating what the problem with this year’s car is, or what he hopes happens next season. It’s just… how they work. How different formula racing is from stock cars. He feels like this is something he can actually talk about, a conversation he knows he can contribute knowledge to. 

“Riveting stuff, boys, really,” Hannah finally interjects, sitting down into her camping chair. Charles hadn’t even noticed she’d left, but here she was popping the bottle cap off another beer, taking a big swig. “You put Chris to sleep and I’m on my fucking way.”

Charles stills, his movements suddenly gentler as he tries to crane his neck to see her face. “She’s asleep?” He asks, half-whispered. 

Hannah nods, and Chase chuckles, “Dude, she’s been out cold for like half an hour.”

He smiles down at her, shaking his head, and then checks his watch again. 10:36pm, she didn’t even make it an hour and a half, poor girl. Charles brushes her hair out of her face and carries on with the conversation. His mind is completely absent to the fact that his fingers continue their exploration of her hair, a natural masterpiece of unruly waves. Each strand has its own rhythm, defying any form of order. The curls become even more pronounced as they cascade toward the nape of her neck, dancing freely with the erratic breeze. 

At the root of her bangs, there’s a stubborn cowlick, and one side of her face-framing cut has a mind of its own, constantly threatening to tumble into her eyes. Amidst all that delightful chaos, small, intricate braids intermingle with the curls, held together with tiny brown elastics. His touch is reverent as he selects one, playfully twisting it around his finger while he speaks. 

With painstaking care, he slides the elastic from the braid, and doesn't miss a beat in conversation with Hannah and Chase as he carefully unravels it. Their words dance in the air around him, and by the time he becomes cognizant of his actions, he’s on the last little braid. 

When it’s time to turn in for the evening, when the conversations are more yawns than actual questions, Charles wakes Chris up softly. He runs his hand up and down her upper arm slowly, squeezes her elbow to coax the sleep from her heavy eyes. “Baby,” he hums softly. 

Chris stirs with a groan, sits up and stares back at him with empty eyes, like she has no clue what year it is. He bites back a smile at the state of her, raises his brows and waits for her to say something, to scold him grumpily for waking her up. Chris Elliott is a force to be reckoned with when she’s woken up, and it’s something you only have to witness once to be scared of ever seeing again. She doesn’t scold, though. 

Instead, a soft smile pulls on the corner of her lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles back. She’s already leaning against the far armrest of the swing, curling up into the corner like she’s going to go back to sleep. She probably will, it’s been far too easy to wake her up. His hand finds her knee, thumb rubbing circles along the denim fabric. “Are you ready to go home?”

She nods, but her eyes are already closed again. Chase is already dousing the fire with water. Hannah’s already inside cleaning up. Charles opts to leave her there, sweet and peaceful, while he collects her things from inside. 

It’s the first time he’s been in the house, and it's just as ambient as the backyard is. The warm glow of the dimmed lights accentuate the charm of their modern-farmhouse decor; wooden shelves bathed in the soft radiance, full of potted succulents, framed photographs, and small artworks that offer a glimpse into their lives. Large, strategically placed windows allowed for a gentle cascade of moonlight to slow, making the entire place feel calm and serene.

Chris has been wearing a pair of Hannah’s slippers since she went inside for the first time, so the first thing he looks for is her shoes. He finds them in the entryway, just outside the door, and finds her keys on a small table there, too. Her phone is on the kitchen counter, the purple silicone case practically glowing against the black granite countertops and pristine white cabinetry. In the living room, he notices a little figure lying on the couch—Reid, he assumes, lies nestled under a Cars blanket, a scene of pure childhood innocence set against the backdrop of grown-up sophistication. The entire room excludes warmth, thanks to an oversized gray sofa and a plush rug, all enhanced by the dull LCD of the quiet television and subtle nighttime lighting. Behind a throw pillow on the same couch, he finally uncovers her purse, carefully slipping it out so as to not disturb the sleeping child. 

“It’s not worth the fight sometimes,” Hannah explains, but Charles didn’t need one. He remembers the age of begging to have a sleepover on the living room couch, to stay out past his bedtime and watch shows on the big television. It was the highlight of his weekends, sometimes. 

“He’s adorable,” Charles says. “I love the blanket.”

Hannah chuckles softly, crossing her arms over each other to hug her small frame. “It’s his favorite movie,” she shrugs. “Wants to be just like his dad.”

He puts all of her things in the car before he even attempts at getting her into the car. Everything is neatly put into a place, her address typed into his GPS by Hannah and plugged into the aux on the radio, and she still sleeps on the swing. 

His humor buoyed by the absurdity of the situation, Charles decided to start with the slippers. He gently slid them off her feet, one by one, and handed them over to Chase, who watched on with the bemusement of an audience at a comedy show. With a soft, nearly conspiratorial tone, Charles whispers: “Chris, baby,” planting a tender kiss on her forehead. 

In response, she produces a mumbling symphony of incoherent sounds. “That’s not French, mon amour,” he chides playfully, prompting a breathy laugh from her lips. His aim is to keep her here, to prolong that delicate state of semi-sleep where she tattered between slumber and annoyance. “Let’s go home, yes?” he inquired. 

Chris, in her hazy state, offered a subtle nod. Charles grinned, heart painfully warm, and said, “Could you help me out?”

In response, she obligingly wraps her arms around his neck, and he effortlessly hoists her into his arms, carrying her in a bridal-style embrace. He guides her to the waiting car with gentle steps, Chase strolling alongside them to open the car door.  She stirs when he sets her in the seat, fastening her seatbelt. 

Chase shuts the door and the two of them exchange a classic, old-as-time bro-handshake-goodbye, a silent acknowledgement of both their meeting today and their future introductions all weekend long. 

It’s not until they’re at her house, the soft purr of the engine falling silent as he properly parked in the driveway, that she’s really awake. Her sleepy eyes flutter open with the automatic cab lights. 

He moves swiftly, circling the car quickly to open the door for her. As she grumpily emerges from the car, he gives her an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, killer.” he playfully whispers, his hands working against her shoulders. She meets him with a death-glare he could never possibly be afraid of. 

Chuckling, he plucks her phone from the passenger seat, locks the car before following her up the driveway.

The journey inside concludes shortly in her room. Chris has an early morning ahead, and a late night, too. Charles marvels at the resilience; doesn’t know how she’ll manage tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. As she settles in under the comforter, he can’t help but watch her for a moment, all sweet and sleepy and beautiful, like always. 

Soon enough, the exhaustion creeps up on him, too, and he finally succumbs to sleep’s gentle embrace, entwined with the woman he finds himself cherishing more with what feels like each passing breath. 

– – –

He wakes up when the soft chimes of her alarm break through the morning darkness. The dim glow of the clock on the nightstand reads 6:30 am, and it was clear that daylight has yet to pierce the veil of a southern winter outside. 

He can’t help but appreciate her attempts to tiptoe through her morning routine. The effort is commendable, really, but the old, creaky wooden floors and the protesting door dram betray her intentions. He doesn’t mind, though—How could he? Any moment with her, even early morning ones where she bustles around the space, is better than a moment without. 

Lying in the cozy bed—which, by the way, her bed is so fucking comfortable, he allows himself to fully wake up, knows that her morning rituals would be far more entertaining than any dream he could have cocooned in sleep. 

His sleepy gaze watches her as she moves through the bedroom gracefully, her face illuminated by the soft glow of dawn creeping in from the curtains. He smiles at the little sounds and routines that make up her life, the ones he never gets to see, to savor. Watching her move about is a special kind of beauty, one that makes him feel lucky, insanely so, to experience a life with her in it. 

Leaving the comfort of the bed, he ventures out into the kitchen. He knew she had an early start, a long day away from him, and he was determined to steal every extra moment they could share. 

She’s finishing her lunch, packing it into her backpack when he sneaks up behind her, snaking his arms around her middle and hugging her from behind. “Hi,” she laughs, turning around in his arms to face him properly. 

He gives her a kiss and her lips taste like her morning coffee. He marvels at the ease with which she can make someone’s day—make his day. 

She grins, and there is a special kind of mischief in her eyes when she playfully warns him: “Promise you won’t get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear today,” she says, and then, because she can’t help but add it, “At least wait until I’m there to witness it.”

With a chuckle, he teases, “I can always outrun you, they say you only have to be faster than the other guy.”

Her laughter bubbles out, filling the room, and his chest, with warmth. “You wouldn’t let me get eaten by a bear,” she replies. 

He pauses for a minute, then playfully concedes, “Well, I might.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would.”

– – –

After she left work, he found himself helpless in the war against sleep. What was the point if she wasn’t around to keep him up? If nothing was around to keep him up? It was almost eight o’clock before he finally got up for the day, feeling refreshed and ready for yet another evening of introductions. 

His breakfast consists of a simple serving of toast, nothing anywhere near extravagant, but enough to stave off his hunger. Not to mention, he’d rather not make a mess in her house with the very first thing he does all day. 

After breakfast, he heads out for a run, decides he’s going to try and navigate his way around without getting lost. He fails, miserably, because it seems like everywhere he looks has the same landmarks—trees, trees, and more trees. The cool air is invigorating, though, and the rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement keeps his mind clear, gives him a certain appreciation for the fact that he doesn’t have to keep his eyes and ears open for anyone who might be watching him. No, here it’s just him, just Charles. There’s nothing special about it, which is what makes it so fucking special. 

Returning home—to her home—he enjoys a shower that washes away the cold sweat of the run. Dressed and ready, he ponders his plans for the rest of his day. It’s hours still until Chris is home and the festivities really kick off. 

As if on cue, his phone buzzes, Chase’s name popping up on the Caller ID. Hannah had insisted on him exchanging numbers with both of them the night earlier. Just in case Chris decides to fuck off to another country again without telling us, she’d said. 

He answers, listens to Chase’s offer to join in on a round of 9 holes with him and Bill, considers it for only a moment, and accepts enthusiastically. He’s in the passenger seat of Chase’s truck within the half-hour. 

“Survived the dragon, I see?” Chase greets Charles with a smile, clearly still amused over the previous night’s encounter. 

Charles chuckles. “Just barely.”

– – –

The day was pristine for golf, with a brilliant blue sky overhead and a gentle breeze. Charles has played at some pretty impressive courses around the world, but something about this one felt special. The green really wasn’t all the lush, and the views weren’t outstandingly picturesque, but. But, there was something that felt so special about it. 

Bill, the most experienced of them, begins the round with an expertly executed swing that has Charles chuckling under his breath. His ball soars through the air, landing with pinpoint accuracy in the fairway. Chase follows with a powerful drive that seems to only gain momentum as it sails. It gracefully lands not far from Bill’s.

Charles takes his stance, feels a bit like a circus clown amidst his partners, but steadies himself nonetheless. He draws the club back, manages a swing with a surprising degree of finesse. The ball leaps from the tee and manages an astonishingly straight shot that lands in a… respectable position. He’s not too far off Bill and Chase. 

Charles would never call himself a golfer, but he’s grateful for Chase and Bill’s attitude—the way they are constantly pretending he’s better than he is, blaming any mistakes (he has a beach full of sand in his shoes from all the traps) on the fact he’s rented his clubs from the course. 

As they stroll down the lush, sunlit fairway on one of the holes, Charles decides he’s brave enough to start a conversation, rather than just participate in one. He turns to Chase as he addresses the only topic he can think of. “So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh? You’re feeling good?”

Chase grinned, golf club slung casually over his shoulder. “Dude, more than anything. I’ve been trying to marry Hannah for a long time. I’m lucky, you know.”

Bill nodded, “Y’all are all but by now.”

“Anything specific you’re excited for?” Charles questions, can’t help but be curious about the details. “Or just a big ball of excited?”

Chase chuckles. “I’m really looking forward to the ceremony. The moment I see her walking down the aisle, it’s gonna be somethin’ else.”

Charles smiles. He wasn’t expecting such a romantic answer, not given what he’s experienced from Chase up to this point. His answer feels more like something you tell your closest friends, not your little sister’s boyfriend you’d just met for the first time the night before. “How about the holiday? Any special plans?”

Chase’s eyes lit up into a laugh. “Ah, the honeymoon. Yeah, we’re going somewhere… sometime. I don’t know, it’s not at the top of our list of things to get done.”

“All I know, Son,” Bill, whose been quiet for what feels like some time now, offers up some wisdom, “Tomorrow’s gonna be real overwhelmin’, but remember it’s your day. Savor all of it.”

Chase nods in agreement, “Don’t worry, Pops,” he chuckles, pats Bill on the shoulder, “I’ll savor it all.”

“And if you get nervous,” Charles laughs, “feel free to let it mess you up out here,” he says, gesturing to the fairway. The whole trio shares a laugh, but Charles seriously wouldn’t mind if the other two suddenly forgot how to golf. 

With Chase excusing himself to meet up with Hannah at the rehearsal dinner venue, Charles is left with just Bill, the pair heading up to the country club’s restaurant for a late lunch. The ambiance inside is refined, and they sit next to big floor-to-ceiling windows that offer views of the manicured greens and vast wooded area they’re situated inside. 

As they settle into their table, Charles takes a sip of his water, wiping the condensation from his hand on the side of his pants. He can feel the weight of the conversation that’s likely to follow—there’s no Cindy or Chris around to keep him in check like there was last night. 

Bill, cutting right to the chase, speaks in a casual tone. “So, Charles, how’re you finding our little corner of Georgia? I reckon it’s awful different from Monaco.”

Charles smiled, appreciating the comfortability of his voice. Maybe Chris was right, he was getting himself worked up yesterday over nothing. “It’s different, for sure,” he laughs. “Home is home, but there is something about the calmness here, the open space. It’s refreshing. And meeting everyone, it’s been great.”

Bill, who’s been nothing but stern in his expression for the entire time Charles has known him, seems to soften, even if just slightly. “I gotta admit, I was a lil’bit… cautious when I first learned about you and Chris. Fathers, y’know, we worry.”

“I can imagine,” Charles nods. He understands. Of course he understands. “You have my word, I have pure intents. Chris means a lot to me.”

Bill seems fully contemplative now, his usual sternness fully replaced when he looks back at Charles. “She’s real happy with you from what I can see, and her brother tells me you treat her real well. That’s the kinda stuff that matters to me.”

His chest feels stupidly warm at the remark. If Chris is half as happy as he is, they’ve really got something here. Something real. Scary real. “I care about her deeply, Sir, and I want her to be happy, too.”

Bill chuckles under his breath, shakes his head softly. “You’re not seventeen, son. You can call me Bill.”

“I care a lot about your daughter, Bill.” It’s an easy thing to do, he thinks. There can’t be a person in this world that knows her and doesn’t care for her. Not when everything about her makes him believe in luck, in something otherworldly—Gods or guardian angels or invisible strings. 

“See?” Bill questions, picking around what’s left on his plate with his fork. “We’re already buddies.”

– – –

Bill drops Charles off just before Chris gets home from work. He’s not in the house for ten minutes, is still moving around the kitchen searching for a glass to fill with water when the door swings open. Chris enters the kitchen with Reid, half a dozen things in her arms and a familiar four-year-old in tow. “Hey,” she greets, lifting her bags onto the counter next to him, setting down all of her belongings. 

“Hi,” he greets, hand finding a familiar space on her lower back, pulling her closer to him, to lean down and give her a quick kiss. “How was your day?” 

“Long… and chaotic,” she sighs, forcing a weary smile onto her lips. Charles frowns. Searching her eyes for elaboration, she just shrugs. “Reid, say hi to Charles,” she introduces. “Charles, this is my little tornado, my nephew, Reid.”

Reid looks up at him with bright eyes and a mischievous grin. “Can I call you Chuck?”

Charles laughs. “No, you can call him Charles,” Chris answers on his behalf, before he gets the chance to tell the kid to call him whatever he wants. 

Reid rolls his eyes. “Hi, Charles,” he huffs. “Auntie Chris says you’re gonna help me get ready.”

Charles smiles warmly. “That’s what I hear. It’s quite a mission to accomplish, do you think you are up for it?”

Reid nodded enthusiastically. “Totally. I’m almost five.”

Chris chuckles, and Charles’ eyes shoot over to her when she does. Hearing her laugh isn’t enough, he needs to see it, to share in it. “Good luck with the tie,” she tells him. Charles winks at Chris, grins down at the kid in front of him. “Reid, you like Cars, right?”

Reid’s eyes go wide, his head snapping over to look at Chris, who matches his expression with a smile on her face. He turns back to face Charles, “How did you know that?”

“So, it’s true?”

Reid nods apprehensively. “I love Cars. My Dad is in Cars 3, y’know? He’s got, like, a awesome race car.”

Charles feigned surprise, “No way! That’s like being a superhero.” He leans down conspiratorially, speaks quietly, just to Reid. “Do you know Lightning McQueen?”

Reid’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he launched into a passionate monologue about the Cars movies, the story, and the characters—paying a special interest to Chase’s automotive-self in the animated world. Charles listens with genuine interest while Chris quietly prepares a snack for the boy. 

He gets ready while Reid eats, moves around Chris in the bathroom. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, using her entire arm to move her stuff off one side of the sink vanity. “I’m taking up your side,” she continues, pulling her curling iron out of her hair, carefully cradling the steaming strands. Charles smiles. His side. He kisses her softly, then— mindful of her unfinished makeup and hair. She smiles out of it, gives him another quick peck, “what was that for?”

He shrugs, reaching for his hair gel, “Just because.” 

– – –

They get to Dahlonega right at five o’clock, thanks in massive part to Charles’ ability to comfortably drive above the speed limit, and in small part to Chris’ ability to finish her makeup while Charles does a poor job at avoiding potholes. 

Every event this weekend takes place at the same place—a vineyard about thirty (if you speed) minutes from Chris’ house, but it’s nothing like what he would usually think of as a quote-en-quote vineyard. It’s more of a… barn put in the middle of a field, but. It’s beautiful nonetheless. 

“How do I look?” Chris asks as they walk up the long drive from the parking lot to the barn. She runs her hands over the thighs of her jeans, straightening them out. 

“Do a spin,” Charles says, and she does. “Hot,” he nods, smiles. Chris rolls her eyes. “Always hot.”

Hannah is running around with a woman wearing a nametag—the wedding planner, he assumes—like a chicken with its head cut off when they get there. Reid bolts away from them as soon as Chase is in his eyeline, chatting with his groomsmen around the bar. Charles trails behind Chris, hand interlocked with hers, as she makes her way over to a frazzled Hannah.

She greets them with a smile, swiping her hair off her shoulders and opening her arms for hugs. “You look beautiful,” Charles comments, kisses either of her cheeks. 

“Oh,” She laughs. “This is new.”

Charles laughs, pulling away from the hug, “Sorry.”

“Oh, no. It’s fun,” she says, looking to Chris. “You should’ve dated someone French a long time ago.”

“He’s not French.”

“But y—”

Chris cuts her off. “Monégasque,” she continues. Charles smiles meekly. “And very proud.”

The setting sun cast a warm glow over the venue as the wedding rehearsal began. Charles found himself sitting in the second row, behind both Chase’s family and with the rest of the partners of the bridal party. 

They’re orchestrated by the meticulous woman with a name tag from earlier, carefully moved through the motions of the ceremony tomorrow. Charles watches with quiet amusement as they navigate each and every step with precision. The officiant guided them through the script, the words blending into a hum that surrounded the ceremony space. 

He partakes in the bland small talk with the other partners—how beautiful, how exciting, how sweet—all the stuff that random strangers with no present connections have to talk about. Charles can't help but glance at Chris intermittently, catching her eye and exchanging silent conversations that only they understand. She’s just so pretty up there, her brown curls cascading off her shoulders while she holds two mock-up bouquets of flowers. She bounces in place, practically, obviously half as tired and bored with it all as he is. 

As the run-throughs progress, he can feel her restlessness like it’s his own. Her wide eyes betray her thoughts when, without words she tells him, this is so boring.

He chuckles under his breath, meeting her gaze with the minute raise of his brows, an unspoken agreement passing between them. So boring.

The repetition of the steps continues, though, each run-through blending together into the next. Charles and Chris share more glances, continue to communicate the same sentiment of impatience to a point of amusement. In the stolen moments, he finds solace in the connection, a reminder that even the most orchestrated events can’t stifle their shared sense of humor. 

As the rehearsal finally drew to a close, the sun dipped below the horizon casting a warm, golden hue over the gathering. The group dispersed, heading towards the dinner that awaited them. 

When Charles catches up to Chris, she’s talking with the best man—Ryan, who the wedding planner kept asking to take this a bit more seriously. He seems nice enough, brother-y enough. Charles thinks he probably has a few good stories about Chris, even more about Chase. 

“Everyone always thought we had a thing going,” Chris tells him after the introduction has finished, while the two of them wait at the bar for their drinks. 

His brows raise, leaning back off the bar to scan the room for the guy. “Do you want me to be jealous?” He asks, lets his hand rest on the small of her back, thumb moving smoothly against the fabric of her top. 

“No,” she says, but the smile on her lips tells him she’d be entertained by the sight of a jealous version of him. “I just didn’t want you to hear it from someone else this weekend.”

He nods, picking up the drink that’s set down in front of him/ “Well, did you?” He asks, taking a swig of the dark liquor. 

“Did I what?” Chris asks, moving her drink closer to her, stirring it with a little black straw. 

“Did you guys date?”

“Oh,” she shakes her head. “Never.”

Charles nods. “Shame, I was going to put on a show.”

The welcome party kicks into full swing after the satisfying sit-down meal. Laughter and chatter fill the rustic barn, the air buzzing with the lively energy of the gathering, of the weekend. Charles, having eaten the entirety of his dinner earlier, finds himself following Chris as she seamlessly navigates the crowd. 

The burger truck, stationed at the edge of the venue, offered a tempting array of late-night treats. The scene of grilled meat wafted through the air, enticing those who weren’t around for the earlier, intimate dinner. 

The barn was alive with the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, the bursts of laughter. It seems like a million people fill the space, a million strangers—a mix of extended family and friends and coworkers and distant relatives and even distant-er friends. For him, all of these faces are unfamiliar, and he relies on Chris like a lifeline to guide him through most of the interactions. 

She effortlessly leads the way, introducing him with a warmth that mirrors her nature of being. She moves through the place like she owned it, with a grace that seems to come naturally to her, connecting with friends and family alike. Everyone seems thrilled to see her, absolutely beside themselves. He understands them, even if he doesn’t know them, and observes with quiet admiration her ability to make everyone feel at ease. 

She seems to flourish in social settings, her personality shining brightly. She greets old friends with hugs, shares jokes with cousins, compliments grandparents’ outfits, and introduces him to each and every one of them, punctuates every interaction with her infectious laughter. 

He’s always felt like he’s more of a one-on-one guy, that his connections are better made independently rather than in groups. Chris, though, could lead a crowd anywhere with this unwavering confidence. She doesn’t make a single misstep all night, navigating the whole evening perfectly, makes an evening he’d spent the majority of outside his comfort zone anything but unsettling. With her, his words feel valued, important, intelligent. He’s content to be her partner in social settings longer than anyone should be. 

It’s long past midnight when they finally get back to her house, the fatigue of the day well-settled on their skin, casting a convincing sleeping spell that made the prospect of a comfortable bed a welcomed one. 

The house is silent, the hush of the night hugging them as they reach the bedroom, the weariness of their bones palpable. Anything but falling into the comforter seems like quite the ambitious endeavor. 

The comfort of the sheets cradles them as they sink into the mattress, a shared haven offering respite from the busy weekend. “Next time I come here,” Charles yawns, the effort of the evening present in his voice, “we are doing nothing.”

She must be more drained, he thinks, she’d worked almost a whole day before this, but contently, she responds with a gentle hum, snuggled up close to him. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Perfect.” The simplicity of doing nothing seems like the perfect plan, a promise of unhurried moments and the luxury of just being together. He wants more of that. He wants more of her. 

– – –

He wakes up for the first time that morning, if you can really call it waking up, to the shift of the bed as she climbs out of it. He doesn’t check the clock, doesn’t even hear more than the creak of the floor before he’s back asleep. He wakes up for the second time, and you still probably can’t call it that, to her standing over him, fingers running through his hair. She gives him a kiss and comments on something he can’t hear through sleep. 

The third time he wakes up that morning, it’s to the ringing of his phone on the bedside table. Her name is on the screen, a photo of her grinning in front of a statue in Monaco and holding a thumbs-up. 8:34, his phone reads. The sun is shining in through the opening in the curtains. 

She’d forgotten the steamer on the living room coffee table when one of the other bridesmaids picked her up two hours earlier. He says he’ll bring it, asks if the girls want coffee, swears he remembers her order. She texts him the other three girls’ orders. Within the hour, he’s riding with the wedding planner on a golf cart from the parking lot to the bridal suite with four long-winded coffees in one hand and a steamer in the other. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the bridal suite, but it wasn’t what he found. The chaos hangs in the air like a sweet perfume. He weaves between makeup artists, hair stylists, and bridesmaids to find Chris, talking with Hannah and a makeup artist about what’s about to be painted onto the bride-to-be’s face, fulfilling her maid-of-honor duties. 

Chris looks up quickly to scan the room, eyes landing on him and immediately returning to the conversation at hand before doing a double-take, a heavy sigh leaving her lips when she recognizes him and the objects he carries. 

“Hey,” she greets, takes the steamer from his hand and kisses him. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you,” and she kisses him again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughs, pulls a coffee out of the cardboard cup holder and hands it to her. “Your hot dirty chai with one shot of espresso, oat milk, and salted caramel.”

“A man after my heart,” she says, taking a sip of the drink. He winks—anything more and he’d blush bright red—and continues reading the orders off. 

“Brown sugar oat milk latte with blonde espresso for Hannah,” he says, pulling it out and handing it to the blonde and pulling out the next one. “This is the… Iced matcha latte with soy milk and strawberry cold foam, and the…” he holds up the cupholder, one drink left in it, “Caramel brûlée latte.”

The groom’s house—which is where he’s affectionately sent to after the coffee delivery—is a direct contrast to the bridal suite. College football plays on the television, the cheers and groans of the game providing a lively soundtrack to the prelude of the wedding. The girls were all half-ready, but the guys are still shoveling breakfast foods into their mouths on the leather sofa. 

Noon arrives, and with it the collective decision that it was time to actually start getting ready for the wedding. Chase and his groomsmen needed to be ready for pictures at three, which meant that Charles and the rest of the bridesmaid’s boyfriends needed to be ready to be anywhere but the groom’s house at three. 

Between the laughter and the beers and the arguing over the best way to iron a shirt, there’s a knock on the door. He doesn’t even bother to look who it is, assumes it’s a relative of some sort. When Ryan, the never-had-a-thing, you-don’t-need-to-be-jealous Best Man has a hand on his shoulder, telling him “Chris is outside, she wants to talk to you,” he meets the guy with furrowed brows. 

He finds her just where Ryan said she was, pacing outside on the concrete patio, ready head-to-toe for the wedding procession. He can’t help but be struck by her beauty, the way the delicate fabric of her dress accentuates her figure, the way the color complimented the glow of her skin perfectly. Her hair is pulled back off her face, revealing the curve of her neck, her subtle makeup highlighting her features. 

He feels like he’s seen her a million times by now, in a million different ways, but there was something almost ethereal… angelic about her in this moment. The nerves in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders only add to the charm, make her feel more real, more human. 

He’s never looked at her and thought she wasn’t beautiful, but there are moments where he’s particularly struck by her allure. This is one of them. 

As soon as she lays eyes on him, her words rush out in a torrent. No hello, no pleasantries, just— “I’m freaking out, Charles. This speech… I’m just. I’m terrified I’m going to mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess it up,” he promises. He’s heard Chris’ maid-of-honor speech probably a dozen times by now, and she’s a different level of nervous every time. This might be the most nervous he’s seen her about it, though. “Can you… can you listen to it, please?”

He nods, his gaze steadying her shaky one. “Of course, let’s hear it.”

She unfolds the tiny, half-crumpled piece of paper out and delves into her speech. He focuses on her words, the genuine affection and admiration for Hannah present in each and every syllable. When she finishes, she meets his eyes, a mix of hope and anxiety in hers. 

“Well?” She asked, her lip caught between her teeth. 

Charles smiles. “It’s amazing. You are going to do great.”

“Are you sure? Because the part where I talk about Colorado—”

Charles shakes his head, puts his hands on her shoulders. “It’s perfect,” he says, gives her a quick kiss. “You’re perfect.”

She sighs, relief visibly washing away the tension. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grins, “You would still do great. But I’m here anytime you need it.” She gives him a quick hug,  and he can feel the gratitude seeping through the squeeze, so he makes it last just that moment longer. He just, he gets such a surge of pride that he gets to call her his, that he’s lucky enough to call her his girlfriend. “Go knock ‘em dead,” he laughs. 

When three o’clock finally does roll around, the wedding party separates to head off for pictures, and Charles, along with the other significant others, joins the convoy heading down to the ceremony space. The excitement among the group was palpable, everyone connected in some way to Hannah and Chase’s love story, ready to witness and be a part of their union.

The ceremony starts at four, and hell if he can’t stop catching Chris’ eyes the entire time. He doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed a wedding quite like he’s enjoying this one. Chase and Hannah are lovely, and the officiant’s words resonate with sincerity, but he’s less attuned to the details of the ceremony itself and more absorbed in the captivating spectacle that is Chris. 

Her laughter, musical and infectious, is all he hears when the entire place laughs, and her discrete attempts to wipe away tears, to pretend they aren’t falling, melt his heart entirely. Even the way she plays with the ribbon on the bouquets she holds—something so small and trivial, it all captivates him.

He finds himself swept away by a tide of emotions, some messy kaleidoscope of feelings that defy articulation. There’s something magnetic about her, an irresistible urge to kiss her that seems to linger in the back of his mind, always. It’s all lined up for him, a million synchronized harmonies that underscore every interaction. 

The changing colors of leaves and the smell of rain on a pine patio, the heartbeat of a conversation, a light in every room. His perception of his own emotions, the way he feels about this fucking woman, it’s so clear it becomes cloudy. Every stolen glance and shared smile is this integral part of their connection, this thing that he can’t let go of. 

There’s something so fucking special about her, and he can’t make sense of any of it.

Cocktail hour is at five, and the whole family—everyone at this entire wedding he knows—are off doing ‘golden hour’ pictures. Charles lingers by the bar, stuck to the outskirts like a wallflower. 

He’s suddenly hit with a wave of insecurity. It’s not often he’s put somewhere completely on his own like this, almost always has someone he can use as a lifeline if he needs to. Everyone here seems to have known eachother forever, and he feels like an intrusion on their camaraderie, worries that if he does manage up the courage to start a conversation with someone, they won’t understand him, or worse—he won’t understand them. 

His social battery is just… it’s drained. It’s been a long couple days of mingling with strangers, of trying to impress everyone. He’s ready to just curl up somewhere with Chris and enjoy the limited time they do get to spend together—alone—this weekend. 

Maybe then, with some more fucking time, he could sort out all his nonsensical thoughts. Make some sense of his own feelings. 

At the reception, he’s seated at the family table with Bill, Cindy, and Reid. Chandler is there, too, but she and her girlfriend Lex seem about as interested in him as they are the dinner menu. They give him a passing greeting, an introduction, if you can call it that, but content to leave it at that. 

They’re only a few feet away from the head table, where Chase, Hannah, and the bridal party are sat. So close, but when you’re as drained as he is, when you’ve been prim and perfectly proper for more hours than you can count, just want to be with the one person around who you don’t need to impress… Chris’ nameplate might as well be a quarter of the way around the world. 

There isn’t some big announcement or introduction for the bridal party, they just filter in after the conclusion of pictures with the rest of the family. Chris is one of the last to filter in, and finds that the rest of the bridesmaids and the groomsmen are all settled in their seats. Chris doesn’t head for her seat. Instead, she makes a bee-line for her family table, for Charles, who is scrolling through his phone and nursing what she thinks is Chase’s signature drink. 

She sneaks up on him, but he isn’t startled by her arms when they wrap over his shoulders. “Hi,” she greets, leaning over to kiss him. It doesn’t take her but a second to feel how tense he is—it’s in his shoulders, in his kiss, in the way he just keeps spinning the liquid around his glass instead of drinking it. Most of all, it’s in the way she doesn’t get even a hello back, just a focus smile and a kiss. Her brows furrow in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m just tired. It has been a busy couple of days.”

“I know,” she nods in agreement. “I was thinking, we should get super drunk tonight, skip brunch tomorrow, and then do nothing all day. What do you think?”

He laughs, and she feels the vibrations in her hands. “Deal,” he says, holding out his hand to shake on it right as the DJ comes over the microphone. Ladies and Gentleman, Chris’ eyes go wide, practically death-dropping into a squat so quickly she nearly loses her balance in her heels. Charles laughs, but she doesn’t miss his hand reaching out to steady her. If I can direct your attention to the barn door, let’s all give a warm welcome to the reason we’re all here tonight. I’m pleased to introduce for the very first time as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Elliott! Even from her squatted position, she still claps and cheers for Chase and Hannah. 

As the clapping dies down, the instrumental of their first dance song transitions in. She shifts on her feet, from one heel to the other, and thinks about how graceful she would have to be to attempt to slip her shoes off in her current position. When she looks to Charles, she’s met with the clearest what-the-heck-are-you-doing look she’s ever been on the receiving end of, and a nod that all but picks her up and puts her in his lap itself. His arms slip around her waist lazily, like it’s where they’re supposed to belong, like a magnet pulling itself to the fridge.

As their first dance song starts, as Chase and Hannah sway around the dance floor as husband and wife, Charles places a soft kiss into her exposed shoulder. The warmth of his lips sends a chill up her spine. “Are you cold?” He whispers, and she shakes her head even though she’s been chilly since she put the dress on that morning—who the heck chooses one-shoulder bridesmaid dresses for their outdoor wedding in December? He runs his hands up and down her arms to warm her up with the friction. “You can have my jacket if you want.”

“I’m okay,” she says. 

“Okay.” Another kiss, and then he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Let me know.”

After the first dance, Hannah and Chase give a short welcome speech, thanking everyone for coming to celebrate with them, for making their day so perfect. And then, it’s time to eat. 

She offers to pull over a chair and eat with him, and then offers again silently after Bill makes a joke about how we won’t bite him. She doesn’t like to see him like this, so tired, so drained. “I’m good,” he says, “I promise.”

“Okay,” she says, but her return to the head table is hesitant, and she keeps an eye on him the entire meal. 

– – –

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Chris, and for those of you who do, you probably knew this was coming,” Chris laughs nervously, microphone in sweaty hands. She can’t believe she has to follow Ryan’s speech. He had the whole crowd laughing until they couldn’t breathe. “I’m not one for public speaking, which I know you all find very funny considering my career choice, but when your best friend since the oh-so tender age of seven is getting married, you throw caution to the wind.”

She looks at Charles, but has to look away quickly. Just imagine me in my underwear, he’d told her before she got up here. She can’t do that. She can’t look at Hannah or Chase, either, though, or else she’ll burst into tears. So, she just looks at the piece of paper in her hand. 

“So, let’s talk about Hannah. We’ve been through it all together, from the back of a Sunday school class at Grace Haven where two little girls made their first friend, to hiding from customers in the kitchen of the Pool Room listening to Mr. Gordon tell us about his ‘shine days. We weathered the storms of adolescence, rocked the awkward phase, and somehow managed to make it out on the other side with our sanity intact—well, mostly,” the room chuckles. Hannah laughs, and Chris thinks that maybe she can look at her—she can’t, can already feel the tears welling, the frog in the back of her throat. 

“But,” she cracks, “It’s not about the trials we faced in high school, it’s about the triumph that is happening right now. Chase and Hannah, standing—sitting—here, about to embark on a new chapter of their lives.” Chris turns to the next page of her notes, hand shaky when she does it. “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows getting here. Life threw us some curveballs, as it tends to do. But Hannah, she’s a force of nature. She faces challenges head-on, and with the strength of a thousand warriors.”

Chris’ eyes catch Reid, sitting on Bill’s lap next to Charles. He’s not paying any attention, but what four-year-old would? Instead, he’s swinging his legs back and forth, tapping Charles’ knee with the toe of his shoes everytime. Charles takes turns grabbing one of the attacking feet, his eyes unbreaking from her, before letting Reid wiggle it away, laughing softly at the interaction each time. “My best friend became a mom at nineteen, and there wasn’t much about it that was easy. But, like I always do, I watched her rise to the occasion, and I’ve never been prouder. I work with five-year-olds every day, and as similar as Reid is to Chase, he’s his mother’s son, and I would pay a million dollars to have twenty of him in my classroom. And Chase, you were there through all of it. When things got tough, you didn’t run; you stood by her. You became not just the guy she loved, but the rock she could lean on, the partner she deserved.”

Chris nods, continuing. “Some might say they don’t have the most conventional love story. But what is love if not a journey? One that involves bumps and twists and unexpected turns? Chase and Hannah, you’ve proven that love isn’t just for fairytales; it’s for the real, messy, complicated, and beautiful moments of life.”

Chris looks past Hannah, to Chase. It's just as hard to maintain eye contact with him. Harder, maybe, because he looks like he’s about to cry, too. Chris can count on one hand the amount of times she’s seen her brother cry. “Chase, my big brother,” she laughs through a tear. 

“Fuck you, dude,” he says back, through an equally tearful laugh. Hannah’s hand runs in circles on his back. 

“You are so lucky to have Hannah. Everyone in this room knows that she has this magical quality about her—this remarkable ability to make even the most unlovable people feel like the center of the universe. I’ve seen her do it time and time again, watched her sprinkle her own special kind of magic everywhere she goes.”

“Hannah,” she says, turning fully to face her best friend, abandoning the piece of paper she has memorized and replacing it with Hannah’s hand. “You are my confidante, my partner in crime, my source of strength, and my beacon of light. You are the kind of friend who not only stands by people in the good times, but also holds you up when life gets a little bit wobbly,” Chris feels a single tear fall down her cheek, and then another. She sniffles softly. “Thank you for helping me through the wobbles,” she squeaks. “You’ve been my sister as long as I’ve known you, Han, I’m just glad it’s finally official.”

Chris turns back to address the crowd, raising a glass of champagne to two of her favorite people. “To Hannah and Chase. May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old-fashioned enough to last forever. Cheers to the messy, the beautiful, and the happily ever after you both so richly deserve.”

Hannah wastes no time enveloping Chris into a bear hug, rocking back and forth on their feet. The lace and tulle from Hannah’s dress scratch against Chris’ arms, but she doesn’t mind. She’s too busy trying not to cry onto the fabric while the rest of the tables clink their glasses to her speech. Chase is next with the hugs, a stupid one that’s stronger than Hannah’s. 

“Dude,” he laughs, “you didn’t have to make me cry.”

Chris sniffles. “I love you.”

Chase pauses, squeezes her a little bit tighter. “I love you, too.”

Speeches are followed by the father-daughter and mother-son dances. Chris sneaks back over to the family table during the latter, makes her dad move over into Cindy’s seat so she can sit next to Charles. He has a fresh glass of the same drink from earlier, and is nursing it the same way he did the first one. 

“You know,” she says, checking the state of her makeup with her phone’s camera. “You’re going to have to pick up the pace if we’re getting wasted tonight.”

He laughs, the side of his foot bumping against hers under the table. She leans her foot back on the heel of her shoe, toys with the hem of his slacks. “Is that right?” He spins the drink, talks into the bottom of the glass, but she’s not fooled. His ears are red at the simple action. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Let me show you,” and then takes the glass from his hand, downing what’s left without a scowl. It’s dark liquor. She loves the burn. 

Chris is like… she reminds him of that battery rabbit. A constant source of energy. She’s practically bouncing off the walls, giddily introducing him to anyone they come across that he doesn’t already know. She’s just so personable, and the buzz she’s gotten from the champagne and the stolen sips of his drinks only make her more lively. She knows everyone here, he’s sure of it, but she could befriend a brick wall if it gave her five minutes.

It’s impossible for even the most sullen people not to feed off her energy—everyone is swallowed up by her laugh, every conversation brightened by her presence. She’s so fun to watch that he wonders if he’s dreamt her up, created a figment of his imagination in the shape of someone just so good. God, she’s good. 

They survive the newlywed games and the anniversary dances, even make it all the way to the cake cutting before it becomes an Elliott family party—which, if you didn’t know, is synonymous with a drunken rager. As soon as Hannah swipes a finger full of frosting across Chase’s cheek, it’s game over. 

Drinks flow as freely as laughter echoes, and the dance floor is nothing more than a playground for a bunch of drunken idiots. Chris and Hannah, seasoned dance partners, showcase their moves with infectious enthusiasm, dancing the blurry line between elegance and idiocy. 

When the music slows, though, she’s always finding her way to him, heavy arms around his neck, his around her waist. If they know the song, they take turns butchering the vocals and giggling until the other person kisses them. 

“So, how was my speech?” She asks soberly, swaying along to the tune of some slow song he’s never heard of. 

“You made that speech your bitch, baby,” he slurs, even though he has a million and one questions about her speech. 

He’d heard it. So many fucking times, he’d heard it, and not once had he heard the ending. He thought he heard the ending—he did hear the ending. It was just different. Shorter. Sweeter. Didn’t put a confused knot in his stomach. Thank you for helping me through my wobbles. A remarkable ability to make even the most unlovable people feel like the center of the universe. He doesn’t want to entertain them as connected, to live in a world where they’re connected. 

“You think so?” She beams. He can’t ask when she smiles like that. 

“Yeah,” his tongue feels dry in his mouth—cottony. He’s bothered, and he doesn’t understand why. “It was great, very personal.” He shouldn’t let it bother him. It’s a fucking speech at a wedding for people he barely knows. It shouldn’t bother him, it shouldn’t rot his insides, the concept that two sentences could be in any way related to one another. It shouldn’t bother him, really. It does, though. And he can’t stop himself when he’s half-drunk the way he could if he was sober. “Everything you talked about… it’s all you two, huh?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “Hannah’s done a lot for me, y’know. I’m sure we’re like you and Joris, just. I cry more than you.”

“Even the, uh…” he clears his throat. “Even the whole thing about, um…”

“Charles,” she laughs, brows furrowed in a way he thinks only he could perceive. 

He sighs. “You know that you’re the kind of person who is easy to love, yes?”

She doesn’t look at him when she nods, or when she smiles, or when she kisses him. “I know,” she mumbles, and it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s ever said. The easiest lie he’s ever spotted, but it’s even clearer that she doesn’t want him to push on it, so he doesn’t. He’s smart enough to know when it’s time to just dance with his girlfriend. 

– – –

They wake up the next morning disgustingly hungover. Like, stare at the white ceiling for twenty minutes talking about how hungover they are and praying they don’t throw up, hungover. Her ceiling is textured, and the pattern repeats every foot-or-so like it’s been stamped on. That’s how hungover he is.

He showers while she makes them prairie oysters, and despite how absolutely horrifying it looks, sounds, and sells, he manages to find enough trust in her to force it down with a grim scowl. Fuck, it’s disgusting. Horrifically so. 

They take an uber out to the wedding venue to retrieve Chris’ car, and she gives directions back to the Dawsonville Pool Room with her eyes half closed, sunglasses over her eyes. Everytime he looks at her he thinks she’s turning green. 

The owner recognizes her as soon as they’re walking through the door. Charles doesn’t understand a single fucking word the guy says. Chris orders “two Bully Burgers, but I swear to holy Heaven if you put slaw anywhere near my plate you’re gonna see the Devil, Mr. Gordon.”

He responds in something Charles could technically call English, and Chris shakes her head, a smile pulling on her lips. “I’m serious, he’ll back me up,” she says, thumb pointing to him. “He’s not from around here, you’re just another stranger.”

The greasiest, sloppiest, most mediocre burger he’s ever eaten is put in front of him five minutes later, and he feels like a new man after. Still absolutely strung out and exhausted, yes, but like his stomach is content to stay inside his body. 

Later that afternoon, when they’re both half asleep on the couch, some stupid sitcom playing as background nose, he’s still thinking about her fucking speech from the night earlier. It’s still bugging him. “Baby?” he mumbles against the skin of her shoulder. He doesn’t even know if she’s awake to answer. 

“Hmm?” She hums. 

“We do not have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but. You are a very lovable person, I think.” He couldn’t give any specific examples of what makes him so sure of this fact, he honestly couldn’t. But isn’t that proof enough? That just her being is enough to answer the question. 

“Babe,” she stretches against him, speaks through a yawn. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, I just. I don’t know.”

“No, it’s okay. We can talk about it.” She adjusts, if just slightly, so that it’s easier for her to look at him while they speak. “When everyone has the same complaint, all your old friends and old boyfriends tell you that you’re too much or too little, you realize maybe you’re the crazy one.”

He doesn't like that reasoning. He thinks it’s a load of bullshit, actually. “Why do you think of yourself in this way?”

Chris laughs. “It’s fine, really.”

“It’s not,” he says, because he knows it’s a lie. 

“It is, because I’ve come to terms with it. I accept it.”

He frowns, hates the way she seems so content with this. Like it’s something that is even kind of rational. It’s not, he knows. He pauses, can’t even come up with something to say to her level of absurdity. “I don’t think you should accept that.”

She turns away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, and laughs softly. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“You are not unlovable.” She’s not. She’s not. He knows she’s not. He knows, he knows, because of rain on a pine patio and leaves that change colors. He knows, because if she was unlovable, he wouldn’t love her. And he does, he does love her. 

Wait.

“Well, we’ll see. Everyone always sees.”

No, hold on. Wait. His stomach is tangled, flip-flopping and fluttering like every butterfly this side of the Atlantic has suddenly taken up residence in his insides. You don’t love her, you idiot, he thinks. But he does. Fucking… His heart races. He hopes to God, pays to something he’s not sure he believes in that she can’t feel it against his chest. That he can get away with it. “See what?”

She shrugs. “If I knew, nobody would see it,” she laughs. He laughs along, too, but it’s so forced that it sounds like some pre-recorded bit. She’s so casual about all of this that he feels like he needs to pinch himself. It doesn’t make sense, he can’t wrap his mind around it. But Chris, she’s comfortable enough with her bull-fucking-shit ‘facts’ that she can pull her phone out and scroll through it while they wrap up the conversation. “And before you ask, ‘What if I don’t see anything?’ like everyone else but Hannah always asks, nothing happens.”

“Nothing happens?”

She opens her fucking email. He’s in love with her, and she’s opening her fucking email while telling him it’s not possible. “You win, I guess.”

“I win you?”

“I mean, I don’t like to consider myself something that can be won,” she says, and he rolls his eyes. His heart is beating so loud he thinks the neighbors can probably hear it. “But for lack of a better word… sure. You win me.”

He nods. There’s nothing more he can add to the conversation, not now. Not when he’s just ran face-first into a brick wall of I love you.  Fuck. Fuck. He’s totally in love with her. What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

last chapter masterlist next chapter

[theoctober18thproject]

I’m so glad you’ve safely arrived to the city. Right now you should be sitting in my spot, or, if our table is unavailable, somewhere that is facing the pointing ladies pictures. This is important, so if you didn’t read the prior instructions, please make sure you’re sitting appropriately. And also you should order the darkest, blackest thing on the menu ;). Okay, so you’re probably wondering what you’re waiting for. You’re waiting for the next clue to be delivered to you. Just sit tight, please don’t move around because I have sent instructions to my deliverer of the clue on where you’ll be as well as what you look like;). So, during this time, your mini task is to just read this.

Happy October 18th. This day is one of my absolute favorites of the year. That’s because four years ago on this day we decided to begin our life of commitment to each other. Since then, our relationship has grown to be and mean so much more. I never would’ve been able to predict what we have today being a real possibility, and if I knew that then, I’d be in disbelief yet filled with excitement. Our relationship means so much to me. You have been by my side supporting me and loving me unconditionally through everything. That’s some real dedication because you and I both know I can be a little crazy and out there, so it means a lot to me knowing you willingly want to deal with that…lol. I wish I could be here with you right now, at our spot. Please enjoy it for me! I miss the city in the fall. The colors are so vibrant and perfectly depict our colorful love story. I want to just share some of my favorite memories with you here, and no, these will not be in chronological order. Firstly, remember that time we went out to eat with my grandparents? That is such a special memory for me because it was so surreal to see the generational difference between my grandparents and then us. I imagined us being their age and looking back on this memory and just being filled with joy knowing we got to see our love live its full life. Another memory that I love is not really a specific memory, but rather something you tend to do. It’s when I mention wanting something and whether that be a thing or an experience, you take note of it and make it happen. Now trust me, I don’t like it when you do this all the time because it makes me feel bad, but when it’s little things I just feel so loved. You always make sure to surprise and spoil me. There’s not a moment where I don’t feel unconditionally loved by you. Remember that time in December when we celebrated our engagement with sparkling grape juice? That was so silly with us rolling on the kitchen floor laughing our asses off. I’ll never forget that. You’re the only person I can laugh with like that over absolutely nothing. Another thing this reminds me of is the numerous times you’ve cared for me while I was inebriated. That one time after Bella’s, you held my hair back when I threw up on the lawn, and then again in the bathroom. You picked grass off of my hair and helped me change clothes. You also brushed me teeth for me. All that being said- I still hold a grudge for when you got upset for me wiping my face on your shirt #sorrynotsorry. Another instance of your nurturing care is that time I was on shrooms. Thank you for telling me I could be completely myself even if that likely embarrassed you (who am I kidding, you don’t get embarrassed). Thank you for getting me ice-cream and thank you for attempting to wipe my face clean of boogers, ice-cream, and tears (you really just made a biohazard combination of all of those, but hey, it’s the thought that counts). There’s so many more memories with you that I adore, but these are just a few. I love you, Mark, and I always will. Here’s to four years of the craziest adventure I’ve ever been on. I’m so excited for our future together- this next year bring a lot of changes, but it will also bring us so much closer metaphorically and literally! When you’re finished reading this, please message ms. kh (me) the secret passcode phrase “ravioli proton #4”. This will notify the clue deliverer that you are ready to receive the next hint! Thank you for reading this, please sit tight and wait for your next clue.

Love,

kh

[wroteonedad]

Breath of the Wild (2017) Review

When I would talk about playing games when I was younger, it was pretty much The Sims franchise and nothing else. I always struggled to get into any other games, I never even played Pokémon until I was 21,,,,, I really feel like those memes floating round TikTok that are like 'just started watching movies, when is The Godfather.?'

I've never been good at puzzles and I'm also terrible at completing games. I'm one of those people that will put in endless hours on a game just to realise I have completed nothing.

What I'm trying to say here is that I suck at playing Breath of the Wild, but I still love the game nonetheless. My flatmate has told me that watching some of my gameplay isn't quite as bad as Jerma985 so I'm going to take that as a compliment, but I also feel just like him when I am playing the game. I am overthinking everything, trying to do everything in the hardest way possible. I forget that actually using the cookpots is a good thing and I spend most of my time accidentally throwing my weapons across the hill instead of shooting arrows at the nearby enemy. I am also terrified of the guardians, I've played the game on and off for so many months and I've only just learnt to shoot the baby ones in the shrines that only move around a set area of the quest. It's embarrassing actually, but by the time I've finished the game (if I ever finish it) I'm probably going to end up clocking a good 500 hours of my life into it. It also took me about a month to even finish the introduction of the game because I would get too frustrated and end up pulling a Kyle.

The game to me feels a little bit like a never ending jump scare. If I'm walking around one of the areas that's close to where you defeat Ganon, there's always a chance that I'm going to get blasted by one of the guardians with the legs that run and look like a terrifying spider. At night time there are skeletons that just spawn literally anywhere, catching me completely off guard every single time. I think if there is anything that this game has taught me, it's that my reaction time is quite slow and I really need to work on that. Then there's also the blood moon which is terrifying. You'll be running round, collecting rushrooms and chilling when suddenly the world is on fire and you're taken to a cutscene telling you the blood moon resets the game and every monster you've killed,,,, well it's time to kill them again. I live in FEAR that I'll somehow become strong enough to need to defeat black moblins because I can barely defeat a blue one. Again, I'm sure this is because I accidentally keep throwing my weapons around rather than using them correctly.

Also this damn dragon electrocuted me in the middle of the blood moon. Between that and the fairies or witches? I'm not even sure what they are. They're just flying around oddly specific areas ready to fight and it took everything in me to not punch a wall while trying to kill my first one, but I managed it. I think that's really cool.

I'm terrible at the shrines, but at the same time I love to mess around with it to the point I pretty much break the game. If you're good at puzzles and perhaps actually listening to what they're telling you at the beginning of the game, then I imagine it makes it easier. Most of the time I do find myself Googling the answers because my brain just simply doesn't work the same way it used to.

But here's what I really love about the game. I love how free Hyrule is, I love that you finish the introduction, get your paraglider and then they just let you go off to explore the huge world, meet the people, kill the enemies and even build your own home. I think this mission is the one I'm most excited about at the moment, I love being able to go out there and blow up trees for wood and then selling all my keese wings to make enough money to display those boko bats on the wall. I hated this game when I first started to play it, but now that I'm just going around and exploring, I fall in love with it more and more. I can sit there for the whole day and I know I would find so many places I haven't yet discovered, despite clocking in 40 hours just from exploring the map alone. I love to throw around high reviews, but this is the first game that comes to mind when I think of a 5 star game. This is the one. It makes me so excited for Tears of the Kingdom to come out although I feel like I won't be able to play that for a good two years after its release because I won't be able to afford it. Cheers UK.

[animeyanderelover]

sup how have u been doing lately? our school year just started and we're already getting bombarded with a lot of activities and it sucks!!! 😭😭😭, Nyways, can I request for Bokuto, Shuu, Hanamiya, Aomine, Erza, and Yumeko where they're going out on a date with their oblivious and shy darling and someone kept pestering/sending unwanted remarks towards them? thank you so much! (Also don't forget to drink ur water for today)

I’m planning a little something in the near future since something special is almost around the corner😉. Also, school has been terrible so I’m trying my best to manage😣.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, clinginess, overprotectiveness, s/o being pestered, aggressive behavior, humiliation, death

Ruined date

Shuu Tsukiyama

🍷His darling is literally too much for him to handle in the most positive way possible. Tsukiyama finds their shy behavior just beyond adorable and he can’t quite suppress the coo whenever they suddenly cling to his arm or hide behind him when confronted by too many people at once. Mostly trying to be gentle, sometimes this ghoul here becomes a bit more teasing though, embarrassing you with specifically much affection. That counts most likely only for servants since Tsukiyama gets especially protective over his darling because they’re shy and oblivious. We’ve talked about this before, he only really trusts the other servants in the household and his father with the darling. Having to consider that too many people might make you uncomfortable in the first place, he really only prefers having you in the mansion in the first place, trying to justify his isolation. Obliviously that won’t work on his father.

🍷He’s just extra with a lot of his dates so he definitely brought his darling to a very chic place even if he still made sure that it was a bit less crowded, a small yet pretty restaurant maybe. Even if his this date was forcefully planned due to his dad wanting him to take the s/o out and not keeping them constantly in the manor, Shuu was still looking forward to it since he wants to guarantee that his darling has a good time. So just try to imagine the wrath he felt as soon as he hears this damn bastard starting to send such impudent remarks to you and having the shamelessness to continue despite noticing your growing discomfort. He has a short temper and sees such behavior towards you as about unforgivable. Worst is yet that you might just try to ignore it despite getting uncomfortable with it, asking Shuu to do the same since it isn’t as dramatic. My dear, what are you even talking about?

🍷There’s only that one time he’ll hold back due to your plea, fists and jaw already clenched tightly together and teeth gritting harshly against each other. Yet that fool had to continue speaking such nasty things and that’s when he snaps, suddenly jumping up and nearly throwing the chair over in the process and slamming his fists on the table, making you flinch in the process. He’s really trying to hold back here, breathing deeply to calm himself and repeating over and over again in his head that he’s in public and would never do something bloody in front of you. He just grabs his darling with a tight grip by their hands after, quickly leading them out of there. There were only a few seconds he took to stare them down and the look he gave them was nothing but terrifying. Will lament to his father later on that this is exactly why he shouldn’t take you out. Regarding the person who dared to talk to you like that, they were found dead soon after, the whole jaw brutally ripped out with blood everywhere.

Kōtarō Bokuto

🦉His darling is the cutest and nothing in heaven and hell can ever change his mind about that. Just like Tsukiyama, Bokuto finds himself really only being able to dote on his s/o for their shy and oblivious behavior. Grows rather protective due to that fact as well, he isn’t completely brainless and does notice that they grow quickly uncomfortable and offers himself always as a shield to hide behind or a support to cling on, he partially really just loves that. If he wouldn’t be so worried about this as well. Being clingy in either case, he definitely grows to stick a lot more to his darling than he would already, the need to be there to protect them growing exceptionally strong whenever he witnesses someone cornering them due to their shy behavior. With that being said, Kōtarō is a number to deal with himself and he knows that as well so he always gets insecure about himself whenever he made them uncomfortable.

🦉Akaashi sometimes gives him advices, overall Bokuto still prefers to choose the date himself. Trying to be considerate of their personality and having a weakness for cuddling them in private anyways, not to mention that he’s prone to jealousy, Bokuto has his moments where he sometimes wants to show his darling a bit off. There will be some action involved in the date and he was more motivated than his darling was. Until this guy suddenly called his darling inappropriate nicknames and made unwanted remarks. Now, Bokuto could be described as foolish due to his infatuation so he’s a bit oblivious as well, not to mention he is not someone to be mad quickly. But there was literally nothing to mistake in their words and after a short look of shock and speechlessness crossed his face before he tried to replace it with a half-hearted smile, initially trying to ignore the person in hopes that they would stop and he could still enjoy his date.

🦉What a surprise that this didn’t happen, instead the person continued and when hearing the second uncalled thing for, the man just flinched before the smile faded from his face. Instead it was replaced by a blank expression as he turned around to look at the guy, shielding you protectively behind his back. Maybe there is still the tiniest hope in him that this guy will still apologize yet they don’t, successfully ignoring the tall man in front of you and continuing their harassment. Now that is where Bokuto’s forgiveness ends, anger boiling up inside of him with each disgusting word spit out. Feeling you suddenly clenching on to his shirt with growing discomfort was only the final straw before he stomped over to the person, towering over them with a look all too different from his usual cheerful one before he started yelling furiously at them, catching everyone’s attention nearby and at the end of it his face was slightly red from all the yelling and the anger. Blames himself that you had to endure this afterwards and he feels terrible.

Daiki Aomine

💙His darling gives him sometimes literally just a heart attack whenever they suddenly get all shy and flustered, playing with their fingers or hurrying themself embarrassed in his chest. It’s laughable to see the big, though guy getting all flustered himself and Momoi kind of teases him about it. The cuteness all aside it has to end up being a scary experience for everyone to make his shy and oblivious s/o feel any sense of unease and have him towering with a dark look on his face over the counterpart. Actually shares similarities to Bokuto in regards of insecurities even if he wouldn’t want to admit it out loud. Daiki is labeled as a rather scary guy with his height and strength and having someone quite as shy and soft as you has him worrying that he’ll end up scaring you or pushing you into a situation of discomfort as well. He’d probably still rather break his bones than seeing you with other trash so his pride still leads him to seeing himself as the best choice.

💙The sane and average person will think probably about ten times about saying something offensive to his darling or dare to interact much with them anyways when they have Aomine sticking to them. The blue-haired man really just wanted to have a good time with you on the date, chances are that his friend helped since he still lacks some knowledge. So I have to give it to the person who dared to say something as repulsing at this to you, seeing clearly Aomine sitting right next to you, a man who can turn into a beast if needed. And my lord, he is all too trigger-happy when it comes to such matters since he is insanely protective. All that is needed is this one sentence or two of the other person for him to suddenly tense up all of a sudden, the sudden content and happy look on his face being replaced by something much more darker.

💙Asks his darling shortly to please stay where they are before he pushes the chair away, taking huge and swift steps to the other person who has by now probably gotten sober. Who wouldn’t when seeing someone like Daiki walking with a face twisted in ferocity over to them? One hand is harshly slammed on their table whilst the other one is placed on their shoulder, the tight grip that might just leave a bruise and feels like it’ll break a bone all done with full intention. It’s quite clear who is the predator in here, Aomine towering in a superior manner over the other person and watching them shivering. He won’t yell or anything and by all the desire in his blood to punch their teeth out, you’re watching and he’s in public. So all he can do for now is grabbing them by the collar and demanding in a very low voice to apologize. He leaves right after with you, in an exceptionally bad mood. The next time he sees that face again, he swears he’ll punch that guy right in the face to stop that nasty mouth.

Makoto Hanamiya

❌He’s probably the worst of all to have due to his rather mean and slightly sadistic side. I think it was mentioned somewhere that his ideal type would be a dumb partner and that really is what he kind of views the s/o as. Their obliviousness to things around them has him thinking that they’re stupid. It annoys him as much as it kind of ends up attracting him. Loves screwing around with you and really testing your limits every once in a while, using your cluelessness successfully against you. The guy is quick to see his advantage in that stupidity of his darling and will have them like this in his palms. It’s angering as much as it is delightful to come to know that he can do quite a bit manipulative and rude stuff without you not realizing the fully obsessive and possessive intentions behind it all. For Makoto as angering and irritating as he finds it precious in his very own way.

❌Yet he would never let anyone else screw with you like this, less out of good will than his own possessiveness. You’re his, his to love, his to be rude to, his to treasure and his to play with. Hanamiya, despite being really just a quite spiteful person, is actually quite good in playing a good guy role so most people tend to not instantly notice that he’s quite the bully. On dates he’s probably either doing things he wants to do with his darling without giving them a choice or letting them for once decide. Was acting quite smug and an acceptable amount of teasing before they started opening their damn mouth, ruining about everything. There’s a difference in the way he acts though, turning around to take a look at whoever spoke like this before a really terrifying grin makes it’s way up his face, purposely letting it be seen by the harasser and it’s able to send chills down someone’s spine. His s/o didn’t notice just yet so he will continue the date for a bit yet with an additional goal in mind.

❌At the end of the date he probably ended up ruining the other person’s day quite a bit with all the small “accidents” that happened every once in a while and they were the only one who lost their cool at one point. He spilled his drink on them, let them trip over his legs and lots more that caused humiliation in public. And since they were the one yelling and screaming whilst he stayed perfectly calm with a mocking tone, acting like the innocent and rational person in here, this damn bastard was forced to leave the place. Merely a small smirk from Hanamiya was what they got in the end, the malicious and sadistic glint in his eyes being nothing else but scary. Remembering faces quite well, he will definitely continue where he left it he were ever to meet them again. Taunting others is a hobby of his after all. Between it all he managed to not slip up yet there is hidden frustration within him that you didn’t even fully realized what was going on. He won’t let you know now since it’s too late but there will be sharp snarky remarks from him later.

Jabami Yumeko

♠️Probably ends up showing a bit more of a sadistic side of hers as well in regards of her shy and oblivious darling. Yumeko is a affectionate girl and she knows that her darling due to their bashful behavior tends to get easily flustered by it which is why she makes them sometimes uncomfortable on purpose. Having them squirming in her arms whilst she flaunts all of her love is something she finds herself enjoying. The oblivious and shy attitude is in the relationship appreciated yet for gambling it’s good for nothing as long as the darling doesn’t know how to use it in a gamble. In such areas Yumeko can be rather cruel since she won’t really interfere with a gamble where the stakes are against you since you have to take risks as well. Yet when it’s not about gambling she loves the shyness and isolates you due to it even a bit more than normally . Mary, Suzui and Sumeragi are probably the only ones she’d let you interact freely with.

♠️This little and cute date was decided from her after she successfully won in a gamble against her darling, getting to chose the location as the price. Being possessive herself and not the happiest person when having her darling under too many persons at once, she went for a cute small coffee shop somewhere near school. Such adorable dates are her favorites and she was basically pushing her darling the whole way. Initially she doesn’t even react as the person starts, seeing two extremely cute persons sitting there and currently trying to choose something from the card. Yumeko herself is a master in playing all innocent and naive which already led many people to shamelessly underestimating her. But her hands have tightened visibly around the menu and with the next wrong remark she closed it with slightly shaking hands before slowly raising from her seat and walking over to them, a smile decorating her face.

♠️Do remember that the devil is playing disguised as the angel in here. It all looks so incredibly normal as she starts asking the person politely what their name is and why they say such awful things to her darling. Her counterpart probably can’t take her seriously, instead snarling at her to leave them alone. That’s when it all starts, her starting to insult them still with a smile on her face yet her words aren’t matching that sweet smile of her. It only stays that long though before her face drops and she stares with a similarly degrading and disgusted look down on them as she did with Midari. She’ll definitely inform someone from the staff as well since other people are witnesses as well, leading to the other person being kicked out successfully. Doesn’t want them to ruin her date with you and as soon as she gets back, she’ll probably act like nothing happened. There are bad news if they person should attend school with her because when it comes to such things, Yumeko holds grudges.

Erza Scarlet

🛡Putting Someone as tough as Erza together with someone as bashful and oblivious as her darling is a combination done perfectly for some troublesome fun. No doubt that Erza grows protective over her darling as soon as discovering their shy and more antisocial side which makes her grow more warning with her guild. Fairy Tail can be quite the bunch to deal with even if they’d never dare to do anything bad to you, not since Erza is watching and you’re like family to them. Erza herself can be quite chaotic herself every once in a while even if she tries to stay collected most of the time, even she gets flustered from her darling’s shy behavior. The red-haired woman finds herself quite simply melting and sometimes she happens to gush over you. It just slips from her tongue yet when it happens in public she finds herself getting slightly embarrassed herself. Her guild mates only give her a grin in return, they know that Erza only acts tough.

🛡Alright, I think it was seen very often in the Anime that Erza can turn girlish and giddy when she wants to do things she has never tried before and that counts for dates especially much. When planning dates, Erza always grows excited and she looked nothing like her usual self as she walked with her darling to the spot she had chosen to do a small picnic. There were almost stars sparkling in her eyes and she was really only in the best mood. But ruining Erza something she was genuinely looking forward too is always a stupid idea so the person was kind of doomed the moment they started catcalling and harassing her darling with unacceptable remarks. At first Erza looks more dumbfounded and speechless then she looks angry, she didn’t really expect anyone to ever dare to say something like this to you directly. Her darling, whilst noticing too, probably has yet to grasp the full situation and is more confused than anything.

🛡A sensitive nerve is critically struck though, she doesn’t tolerate someone ruining her date like this nor does she tolerate disrespectful jerks and that’s what drives Erza finally over the edge. A vein or two are probably appearing on her head as she walks with a dark aura surrounding her and her falling hair casting shadows over her eyes over to the jerk. The moment she lifts her head, the look on her face says it all. She would have taken this all lighter if it wouldn’t have been for that jackass catcalling and harassing you with their words. I guess they’ll realize at that moment that they have fucked up, though Erza still knows not to grow violent in front of you nor does she want to end the date. That’s maybe the only reason she won’t do any physical damage, though the slap they received from her was far worse than any punch from the average person.

[super-unpredictable98]

The Eighth Child (~TUA AU~) - Season 3

Chapter 11: Hello Goodbye

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content, mention of death, emetophobia moments

a/n: So, I skipped the smut for the time being, but if you guys want I could write a separate little drabble talking about Klaus and Vicky's wedding night and all the stuff they experimented with for the first time hehe

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

Something forced me to wake up. The night before was fantastic, I was able to do things even I can't believe I'd done, and Klaus seemed beyond satisfied with my performance. It was really special to see him vulnerable like that just for me, and I was able to be just as vulnerable. But something forced me to wake up. 

My stomach was in a twist, I couldn't believe that I was hungover from two glasses of champagne, that was impossible! But then my mind drifted elsewhere, what if someone messed up the food? What if my body wasn't prepared for that amount of food anymore after I lost all the weight? All I knew is that something was very wrong.

"I feel sick, Klausie!" I cried and he immediately sat up, still half-asleep but he was there. "I think I ate something weird last night, did the cheese smell weird to you? I'm really scared, Klaus, I'm salivating too much!"

"Hey, hey, don't worry. Just breathe with me, okay?" He held my hand while rubbing my back with the other. "Do you wanna go to the bathroom? Do you want me to get a trash can?"

"I don't know! I can't breathe right, do I look pale to you?"

"A little."

"Shit! On our honeymoon too?"

"It's alright, why don't you hum? Humming helps," he took me in his arms while dragging the trash can closer to the bed with his foot. "No stress, it's probably just your nerves catching up to you. The food was great, you didn't drink too much..."

"You said I drank too much! You told me to stop!" I cried in between hums and deep breaths. I was already in a cold sweat, I felt lightheaded and couldn't stand still for a moment, so I was rocking back and forth with my husband like a little child having a meltdown. I was so embarrassed.

"I- Fuck," Klaus muttered. "Did dad say something weird to you last night?" 

"No, why?" I rubbed my own arms soothingly.

"He said something to me last night, I thought I was just drunk and imagining things, but it's starting to make sense. He stopped in front of me and took my hands, then he said he hoped the plan would work out, and the timing was really bad because I would... Be a great father for my little girl."

"What?" I screamed in terror. "You think I'm pregnant?"

"Your period was supposed to be here already, right? I even planned a whole red wings situation for our honeymoon. You're ravenous, you're having morning sickness, we weren't so careful back in 63..."

"OH MY GOD, I'M PREGNANT!" I covered my mouth, somehow the shocking news made me forget all about my queasiness and it slowly faded away, giving place to pure horror. There was no worst time in the world to be pregnant, literally! "My brain has been off the rails, I can feel something in here, I just didn't know it was a fetus! And I've been drinking like crazy this past week, I swam in sewage, I got shot several times! And there's a fetus in me!"

"Calm down, let's go back to breathing," Klaus was not any less freaked out than I was, but he had to hold on for my sake. He knew that despite whatever he was feeling, actually carrying the baby was way scarier and more demanding. "Look, being a dad has never really been on my bucket list, but let's face it. It's pretty much a miracle that in 34 years I've had zero pregnancy scares with the number of sex partners I've had."

"That's true..."

"And if I'm gonna do this, I'm glad I'm doing it with you. You're not some random girl I hooked up with at a bar, you're my wife, Liebling. Also, that's not saying you have to keep it, you can do whatever you think it's best. I just don't think we're gonna have the easiest time finding planned parenthood in the current world situation, but you're still early on, less than a month if we conceived in 63..."

"I wanna keep it. I just wanna make sure, get a test, and if I really am, then I wanna keep it," I admitted. Maybe my attitude would be different before, but after that scare when I first arrived in Dallas (which I never told my husband about) and the whole Stanley situation, I felt ready to face whatever was coming. 

"Uh cool, that's cool! Maybe we can find a test at the lost and found, want me to go get it while you fill up the bladder a little more?"

"Yeah, please."

I paced around the room for what seemed like forever until someone finally knocked at the door, but when I opened, it wasn't Klaus, it was Allison. She was there smiling, totally different from the person I'd seen since we arrived. I hadn't even exchanged a single word with her that wasn't in a fight this past week.

"Hey, Vicky," she pulled me into a hug which freaked me out even more. "Sorry I left earlier last night. I didn't even congratulate you and Klaus, I haven't been the best sister the last few days."

"Yeah, you've been pretty sour, which I get, but also kinda hurts. But you're still my sister and I still love you."

"That's why you're the heart of this team! Where's Klaus?"

"He left to get some... Stuff."

"Alli! To what do we owe the pleasure?" Klaus quickly hid the box behind him as he maneuvered in reverse to get into the room

"Hey, I just came by real quick to tell you that dad wants to talk to all of us in two hours."

"Okay, we'll see you there," I tilted my head, trying to see what she was really thinking, but she must've realized because suddenly all I could see was the two of us dancing in front of the mirror after doing each other's makeup when we were little. She knew that a sweet memory like that would mollify me.

"See you, have fun you two," she waved before closing the door.

That was weird, but Klaus didn't seem to think so. He was definitely more worried about the result of the test I was about to take. 

He insisted on following me to the bathroom and holding the stick so I could concentrate. We both stared at the test for a little under three minutes.

"How come the lost and found here has everything?" I asked.

"I don't know, I always found everything I needed there. I guess it's sort of like a room of requirement... A LINE! Look, look, two lines! The second one is pretty faint, but it's here! We're gonna be parents!" I couldn't tell if he was terrified or happy, but he held me and that was enough.

"That is if the world doesn't end."

"Even if we die, you can carry to term in the void, it'll be okay," Klaus assured. I was about to ask how is it that someone could possibly be born from a lifeless body, but he's the one who understands death, not me. 

"Are you happy, Klaus?" I asked hesitantly.

Instead of a simple yes or no, he took me in his arms, kissing me as we stumbled back to bed. I took that as a yes, knowing full well he never wanted to be a dad, but at least he was willing to do that together. And who knows? Maybe we would be good at it, maybe we would even like it. 

"I have a gift for you," I whispered.

"I know, it's the little bun I put in your oven..."

"No, another gift, close your eyes."

I placed my hands on his head once again and searched for the memory I dreaded the most: we were 25, I was packing my bags to leave for the airport and after that day I didn't see Klaus for five years. 

"You were probably right, you spent way too long caring for your junkie brother. You should have the right to live your life, without me weighing you down," he shouted with tears running down his cheeks.

"I wish things were different, I wish I had a chance to be…"

"To be what? Why are you running away?" He shook me by the shoulders.

"Because I'm a coward," I screamed, unlike the first time when I dismissively said goodbye. "Klaus, I love you!"

"I love you too," he smiled sadly.

"No, I actually love you. I can stand to lose anything, even this stupid job, but not you!" I rushed to claim his lips, mine as they always should've been.

"I- fuck... I love you too," he breathed, the biggest grin on his face. "So does that mean you're not leaving?"

"Only if you come with me."

"I'll go with you anywhere, Schnucki."

"You are the person of my dreams. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you sober, I'll help you through the trauma and watch you grow to be the amazing man I know you can be," I said before losing my hold on him and snapping back into reality.

Klaus opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling marveling for a few seconds before he finally looked at me. For the first time in a very long time, maybe forever, he was speechless. I had never seen my husband lose his words, but this time he only wrapped his arms around me.

"Thank you, Victoria," he whispered. "You are the person of my dreams too."

—————————————————— 

"They might've outdone us with the invitations, but our pregnancy announcement will be the cutest! At least until we have our second child," I looked down at the box where the cookies I made were. I baked and decorated each one with all my love and my husband's help.

"Wait, you want more than one?" Klaus yelped.

"Maybe..." I bumped into Ben and my heart fluttered with joy. "Good morning, Benny, my love!"

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He growled.

"Oh no, he's back to being an asshole," Klaus grimaced. "Come on, we were making so much progress with your Mr. Tough Guy routine."

"I was drunk!"

"You are a good person, we saw it, but you're trying really hard to be a bad one." 

"I hate you! Both of you! And this marriage is a joke!"

"No you don't, you hugged me and everything," I shouted.

"Don't talk to her like that, she's fragile!" Klaus scolded. "This is just a defense mechanism, pushing away the people who care about you the most. Just like dad!"

I wanted to run the other way, but we were going in the same direction, to meet dad and attend his end of the world reunion. Klaus whistled and pointed with his eyes at the box as if trying to remind me why we were so happy in the first place.

The last one to arrive was Five and it caused a commotion after his words from the night before. Even I couldn't believe some of the things he said.

"Five! That speech last night brought me to tears you big softie," Lila said amid the clapping and cheering.

"I especially liked when you referred to us as a family bound by destiny and love," Viktor added.

"Yeah! And don't worry, I'll never stop fixing your hair and your tie before you leave. I didn't know you liked that so much," I teased.

"It was the booze talking," Five seemed unfazed, once again the cold old man we were getting used to. "In the light of day, you're all still deplorable."

"And your day's about to get worse," dad murmured ominously.

"But before it gets worse, it gets better. Usually it's the opposite, but I baked my famous sugar cookies and I'd like all of you to try them, but everyone has to close their eyes and wait until I tell you to open," I stood up, holding the box above my head.

"This is stupid, Victoria, the world is ending..." Ben groaned.

"Please? Just one simple request and I'll never ask you for anything again."

"Be quick, go on," dad closed his eyes, convinced that I wouldn't leave them alone until I pulled my cookie stunt.

I gave each one to their owner, they were heart-shaped and had royal icing spelling: uncle Diego, uncle Luther, uncle Ben, uncle Five, uncle Viktor, aunt Allison, aunt Sloane, aunt Lila, and Grandpa Reggie. 

"Okay, open now," Klaus giggled.

It took everyone a second to understand what was happening, but once they caught up, everyone was cheering and clapping again. Diego jumped from his seat to lift me up and spin me around, Viktor and Luther rushed to hug me and Klaus, even dad seemed to show the ghost of a smile.

"Congratulations, you managed to do the one thing I told you not to," Five took a bite, he didn't seem truly upset. "Let's hope it's born with Vicky's brains, she's the least unhinged of the two."

"Wow, your childhood romance worked out," Allison tried to sound supportive, but I could feel the venom in her words.

"Very well, now that this is done..." Dad cleared his throat. "The Norse had seven sleepers. The Blackfoot, seven stars. As a boy, I heard the legend of the seven bells. All these stories are the same, the village is under threat, a shaman brings his disciples to a sacred cave. He tells them if they can ring the seven magic bells, the village will be saved, and all will be restored just as it was."

"Reggie," Lila raised her hand. "Can we get a little less Brothers Grimm and be a little more objective please?"

"There is a truth to these myths, none of you can deny what's going on around us. All of existance will be gone by the end of the day, but whoever or whatever wove together space and time left a way to put things back together. There is a portal in the universe, I built this hotel around it, and on the other side is the answer."

"So you want us to cross the portal all willy-nilly, ring seven bells, and that will fix all this shit? How have we never thought of it before?" I leaned back as Klaus caressed my stomach, even though there was not much in there to caress.

"Sarcasm aside, you are mostly right. Except for the guardian."

"What kind of guardian?" Viktor asked.

"The kind that does this," Diego held up his hand that was still missing two fingers. "He has a sword."

"Why would the builders of this portal need a guardian anyway?" Viktor stared at the injury confused. 

"To protect it from people who want to use it for nefarious means," Sloane explained. "But it should be easy, Vicky can go in first and kill him for us. If there's anyone who can survive the guardian is Die Hard."

"She's pregnant! She can't fight like this," Diego shook his head.

"My body won't take any damage, so I should be fine. But if I'll be able to defeat this thing, that depends on his stamina, mine is higher than most people-" I intended to say I had a limit, but Klaus interrupted me.

"Heyooo! Lucky me, am I right?" He joked.

"Maybe I'll need help. Spacey's strength, Séance's immortality, the Kraken's reflexes, White Violin's world-ending energy..."

"White Violin?" Viktor laughed.

"Yeah! You in that theatre, everything was white and your aura was glowing, you were the most powerful person in the world!"

"So I guess you'll need all of us to defeat this thing that's protecting the bells," Allison suggested.

"You're actually buying this crap?" Five scoffed. 

"I'm in," Ben was quick to say, thirsty for dad's validation.

"Me too," Diego agreed. "But I think some of us should stay back, like Vicky and Lila."

"Or you can stay and we can go," she folded her arms defiantly.

"No, this is much bigger than all of us, nobody can stay back," Allison insisted.

I was starting to think it was kinda weird that she was suddenly so excited to save the world. She never agreed with dad on anything before, but now she was endorsing his crazy idea and trying to drag the rest of us with her. There must've been something she wasn't telling us, what could she have to gain from it?

"We should vote," Viktor suggested. 

"I'm with Viktor," Five cocked an eyebrow at dad.

"The world is ending and you want to count hands?"

"You're asking us to risk our lives, I think it's only fair you give us some time to discuss it," Luther held firmly to his wife's arm. "Privately. Let's meet back here in an hour."

Klaus and I stood behind while the others either went on a walk around the hotel or back to their rooms. I wasn't so sure about dad's intentions, if what Five had said the day before was true, he was simply using us as pieces for his twisted chess game with the apocalypse. 

There's a famous saying in Brazil which is 'se correr o bicho pega. Se ficar o bicho come', translating it literally would be something like 'if you run, the beast will catch you. If you stay, the beast will eat you'. What it means is that no matter what choice we made, we would be screwed. To die by the hands of an otherwordly guardian, or to die by the Kugelblitz. Did it really make a difference at that point? Was there any hope left on the other side?

"Death isn't so bad, you know?" Klaus finally broke the silence. If you want to stay I won't be upset, I'll stay there with you. We can meet each other's moms, I'm sure Maria Fernanda is lovely and very proud of her daughter who has her name, Victoria Maria."

"I thought we would die together when we're very old and tired of this world. Stay there at the beach and enjoy eternity... I don't know what to do. If there's a chance our baby could be born in a world without destruction of black holes eating people, I'd like to take it."

"I'll do whatever you want. I'm yours now, you better deal with it," Klaus drawled, laying on my lap and looking up at me with those dreamy eyes. "I know it's waaaay too early, but did you think of a name yet? We know it's a girl, according to dad."

"A few, I like Moema, Grace, Iris," I listed.

"Juniper, Valerie, Wrenley," he continued.

"Fortune," I said and he gaped.

"Fortune! That is beautiful, I love it! Fortune Bennie Hargreeves. What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect."

After about an hour, we all gathered in the lobby again, each one hoping we made the right choice. I had a bad feeling from the get-go, we were never very good at agreeing. We could barely even pick a movie to watch on the weekends, let alone decide the fate of the world.

"I think you can guess which way I'll be voting," Allison started. "We've all been through a lot, we all lost people... Mannequins. Their deaths have to mean something, so I'll be going with dad."

"What she said, let's go save the bloody universe!" Lila joined.

"All right, since she said yes, I vote stay," Diego ran to the other side of the room. "How's that for nice?"

"Klaus and Vicky?" Allison huffed, clearly annoyed by our brother's choice.

"I am with father. I'm a married man, with a wife to take care of and a baby on the way. Better make sure everything is in one piece when she arrives," Klausie said. 

"Wow, you sound nothing like yourself," I had to do a double take, that was not my husband speaking, was it? "I vote go, if we stay we die, if we go we die, but one of those is not an absolute."

Ben simply nodded, indicating he also wanted to go. That was four to one, but somehow I still felt like we would end up losing.

"I wanna believe, I really do. I just can't shake the feeling that we don't know what we're getting ourselves into," Viktor mumbled. 

"No, but we know what is waiting for us if we don't. We have to go into this together, a family. Don't you wanna save the world so our niece or nephew has a better place to live?" Allison tried to argue.

"You can't just keep throwing the word 'family' around. It isn't enough, I vote stay. I don't wanna see my pregnant sister dying in a fight that isn't even hers."

"Sloane and I talked, and well..." Luther followed. "We're out. We wanna spend whatever time we have left together, not fighting some guy with a sword or ringing bells."

"I'm about to make things difficult," Five sighed. "I saw the future, and it told me to sit this one out. I vote stay, it's time we accept our fate."

"That is five to five, it's inconclusive. We can't just go in there as a group of five, that would mean certain failure, there must be seven," dad lamented. "Children, I can't say I'm happy with this, but I see now the blame falls on me. I failed you when you were young and I have failed you now. And in doing so, I have doomed the entire universe. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the courtyard, awaiting the end. A shame I won't live to meet my grandchildren."

"You're all pathetic," Allison marched away.

"So now what?" Sloane asked.

"Now we wait for the end," Five shrugged. "See you around, it's been... Interesting."

"I'm so sorry, Klausie," I took my husband's hand as we headed to the entrance.

"Don't be, it doesn't matter what happens, we'll be together," he kissed my forehead gently, but I could tell, he really wanted things to be different.

—————————————————— 

I was watching the world fall apart when my heart felt tight, an ache I knew quite well, the same ache I felt the day we lost Ben. That feeling of hopelessness, a deep regret no one can take away from us.

"Luther died," I uttered, my eyes filled with tears.

"What?" Klaus must've thought it was a sick joke at first, but one look at my face and he turned pale with fear. "Really?"

"Really, come on!"

When we entered the White Buffalo suite, almost everyone was already there. Sloane was holding his body and crying, much like I did when Klaus was the one laying on that perfect white rug covered in his blood.

"Spacey!" I sobbed, falling to my knees and taking his huge, cold hand in mine. "Spacey, you can't die! Whenever I said I hated you, that you were my least favorite sibling, I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it, Spacey, I love you..." 

"He knows that, Liebling," Klaus tried to comfort me, but he was also on the verge of tears. "It's what siblings do."

"Look," Lila pointed at the open door where the pachinko machine was. "It must've been him, the guardian."

"She's right," Diego looked down to avoid showing his emotions. "Whatever did that had a long, curved blade. I don't know much, but I know knives."

That's when the only person who was missing appeared, dad came in with a confused look on his face. I glanced into his emotionless eyes and for the quickest glimpse I saw him, his arm was a massive sword and he killed Luther.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" I wailed.

"What? Why would I kill my own son?"

"I saw it! Don't lie to me!"

"No dear, you are really nervous and hormonal, you are imagining things," dad frowned. "You need to calm down, think clearly."

"If we attacked first, he'd still be alive," Ben grumbled.

Before I could say anything else, another kugel wave hit the hotel. This time it seemed different, we were the only people left. The Kugelblitz was finally ready to take us all, I could feel it in my gut.

"What are we gonna do with Luther?" Sloane asked as the entire building collapsed, giving me flashbacks from when that happened in the old Academy. The explosions, the wreckage, it was all so familiar.

"Go through the passage, it's the only way!" Reggie guided us to the tunnel that would lead us to the other side of the portal. "Come on, children, hurry!"

We were scared, disoriented, and most of all, angry at whoever killed Luther. So we followed, when you see your life flash in front of you like that and the certainty of a horrible end is facing you back, your choices don't matter anymore. You run and try to save whatever is left, you try to survive at all costs.

Sloane didn't want to leave her husband's body behind, but there was no one strong enough to carry him with us. Allison pulled her and Klaus ushered Five, who was still very much doubtful, to the entrance. I went right after and Klausie was the last one. Or so I thought.

"DAD! VICTORIA!" was the last I heard of his voice, but when I tried to turn back and check on him, father held me by the shoulders and forced me to keep walking. 

[thesunshinebunny]

Can I ask for the dorm leaders reacting to their S / O asking them to join them in the shower for the first time???

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, oooookkkk, I can see what you did there dear anon.

In my great humble imagination, I'd like to take a dip in the huge bathtub that Kalim surely has in Scarabia. Let me dream, I like to relax in big bathtubs with foam, bubbles, music and incense. Before we begin, I warn you that all characters are +18.

Let’s goooooooooooooo

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

Riddle

Oh dear, you don't know what you just did.

It was a decent proposal to be honest, you just wanted to spend a quality moment with our Queen, but I think the smoke got into his head.

"Riddle, I'm going to take a shower, would you like to join me?"

Puff red as a tomato and about to explode.

You stared at him in disbelief, until you realized your words. Maybe Riddle wasn't ready for that big step.

You entered the bathroom alone, but not before asking for forgiveness.

Now you left Riddle alone with his thoughts, that's much worse.

Your intention was to take a short shower, but with the event that had just occurred, you were eating your head as the water ran down your body.

The longer it took you to get out, the more your anxiety ate you up inside. You would have panicked if you hadn't heard the door open and close almost inaudibly.

Riddle stepped into the shower, standing behind you and circling your waist.

"Please don't turn around, it's still too embarrassing for me, but I can't help but feel calm right now"

Neither of you spoke or moved the rest of the time you stayed in the shower, even forgetting to wash properly. But that 'mistake' was the beginning of multiple long shared showers.

Leona

The lazy lion here wasn’t in his plans to get into the water, much less shower. If you had asked getting into the lounge’s pool, maybe he would have considered it.

He just lay on his bed, about to fall asleep, not caring about your figure in the middle of the room. He didn't care that you were getting irritated every second.

"I don't have the need to bathe, go alone"

He heard you leave and thought he was going to sleep peacefully before you get out of the shower… until an impact on his head dislodged him.

You had thrown dirt all over his hair, spreading over his chest and the bed.

“Now you have a reason to shower. You're dirty"

I recommend you to run to the shower, because the look Leona gave you… I highly doubt that you will make it out alive.

Arriving at the threshold, Leona grabbed you by the legs, placing you on his shoulder and getting under the faucet.

This fucker turned on the shower without letting you remove your clothes first, ending up drenched.

"Ah, my mistake, I think you're a little wet. Let me take off your clothes"

The malicious smirk on his face didn’t give you confidence, and didn’t disappear even when you were both naked under the water.

“You have courage to fill me and my bed with dirt, did you want to take a shower? Now you are going to clean me"

Ah… worth it?

Azul

Did he hear you well? Do you want to take a shower with him?

Oh dear sea witch, help him, he is about to have a neurism.

Azul wasn’t against your proposal itself, he was very concerned about his physique.

And what if you don't like what you see? would you are disappointed? And if it disgusts you to look at him naked or semi naked?

Thousands of questions ran through his head, making it impossible for him to give you an answer. If you looked closely, you might even see smoke coming out of his ears from the gears in his head moving; even tears were threatening to leak out of his eyes.

You placed your hands on both sides of his face, "Come with me"

You guided him into the bathroom, placing him under the shower head. You let go of your octopus and turned on the hot water before he could say anything.

Both were burned by the touch of the hot water, even Azul wanted to get out of there, but you stopped him by wrapping your arms around him.

The warmth of your arms on his torso made his heart skip a beat. He never thought he was going to be able to have this kind of intimacy with you, and I'm not talking about nudity.

It was literally like being in the rain in the middle of the courtyard, but in solitude inside Azul's room ... rather in his bathroom ... with clothes that were beginning to cling to the body.

"Do you feel better? Do you think you're ready to take off your clothes and really give us a hot shower?"

Azul never said a yes so fast in his life.

Kalim

A shower? A simple shower? What is that? Kalim only knows how to take big baths in tubs that could be the size of a house.

Either way he said yes, don’t be alarmed.

Wasting no time, he led you to the bathroom in his room, which you could swear was the same dimensions as the bedroom, apart from being very resplendent.

Kalim was very respectful at all times, he gave you your time to undress, he wasn’t invasive and he turned around when you asked him and thus enter the water.

Our sun here took the trouble to decorate the bathtub when you weren't looking, now the whole place was decorated with incense and scented candles from the Land of Hot Sands.

Even if you walked carefully, you might come across a few gold coins on the marble floor of the tub.

All very beautiful, but I think I would be very overwhelmed with such extravagance. And that is also your case, it’s better to tell Kalim directly.

Like before, don't worry, Kalim would understand your feelings a 1000% and if closing your eyes for the entire bath time makes you feel better, then Kalim would be willing to snuggle you on his chest and wash your head himself.

He ’s a gentleman, what can I say.

But, if you feel comfortable with all that, then I advise you to start a bubble war. Who said bathing with your partner has to be serious?

"Take care of your bubble ammunition, you wouldn't want to be left with nothing and for me to tickle you"

You made a mess in the whole bathroom, be careful when you leave, there is soap and water everywhere.

Vil

Oh no no no, dear, no dear.

One does not shower with Vil, one BATHES with Vil.

Like Kalim, Vil takes his bath quite seriously. He needs to follow his skin routine very meticulously and for that he needs oils, essences and… other things that my poor ass couldn't buy all the time, even if I wanted to.

His bathtub is not as gigantic as Kalim's, but it is much larger than average.

If for any reason you are embarrassed to bathe naked, don't panic. Vil has exclusively for you a bathrobe that you can use in the water, and one for him too obviously.

Prepare for a full-body massage session. The oils are not for decoration, they are to soften the skin and Vil would give the best massages of your life, you cannot argue with me

By the way, you also wash your hair with an equally expensive shampoo. There is no middle ground here: either you take a simple shower in your bedroom, or you go big with Vil.

That reminds me, the moment you take the first bath with this Queen of beauty, you have just signed a contract (not one of Azul's) in which it stipulates that from now on, every day you will bathe with it, end of discussion.

Vil may at first have been a bit ecstatic to the idea of ​​you giving him massages with his special oil and washing his hair; he has a very meticulous routine that he adheres to to the letter and your inexperienced fingers would not do enough magic.

Buuut, nothing like a good class in the middle of the bathtub to give good results.

In summary, taking a bath with Vil is like having a full day at the Spa, completely free ... well, almost free 😉

Idia

Idia.exe stopped working.

Jokes aside, Idia stopped reacting for a few seconds, he didn't even remember to breathe.

I can't tell if Idia is one of that kind of weeb that doesn't bathe, I want to believe that he does, please make me believe that he does, I implore you

Taking a shower with Idia can be a bit… embarrassing, mostly on his part. He isn’t used to so much human contact and that you ask him for such a proposal, is to get out of his comfort zone.

Nor could I tell if, when in contact with water, Idia's hair would evaporate, like the scene in Hercules blowing Hades’s head XD.

If so, it would be a lot of fun to watch, but you would have to reassure him because he would surely be much more embarrassed.

If that's not the case, maybe he would be around as long as the intimacy last with red hair, someone at some point mentioned Idia with red hair and now I can't help but imagine it

Many caresses from your part, hugging his torso from behind. Like Riddle, he would surely not be prepared to look at you for the first time or for you to see him.

Trie to calm the waters by asking him about his new inventions.

Also avoids telling Ortho all this bamboleo. He is too pure for this type of situation, let's not fill his head with indecent images of his brother.

Malleus

What a peculiar proposal, but it will be honored without a doubt.

He may have asked Lilia for instructions to abide by your proposal as well as possible… and Big Bear Mama Lilia may have asked him thousands of questions about it, perhaps embarrassing him a bit, but we will never know.

I have a slight suspicion that Malleus has a very rococo-style bathroom, in dark colors, but not necessarily black and green, do you understand?

Did you know those old tubs, from the Marie Antoinette years? Well, Malleus has one. He also has a shower, but to be honest, I see Malleus as a passionate lover, so the shower wouldn’t be in the game.

But, if you feel uncomfortable with the bathtub because it seems too much or you can’t step in (because, let's face it, hardly a person enters in that marble piece of furniture) then Malleus has no problem using the shower.

Whatever your decision is, the moment will be magical, and I mean it very seriously.

Our dragon daddy here would invoke any kind of magic to make the evening more enjoyable, like the little lights that fly around when Malleus is about to appear or disappear.

I recommend you don’t go around telling your intentions of take a shower with Malleus, we know that a certain lemon green hair is hanging around the corridors and he wouldn’t hesitate to listen to a conversation that has his young master as it’s center.

An uncomfortable moment if Sebek enter the bathroom screaming as always, demanding an explanation as to why a simple human is bathing with his young master.

[miekasa]

random boyfriend eren hcs (modern/college au)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern/college au, himbo eren supremacy as per usual, but can you imagine eren, armin, and jean living together in one house bye

↯ notes: this is me once again trying out this headcanon format, also because i have lots of thoughts about eren (being normal) and going to college lmao

↯ more notes: sorry i have to repost this again tumblr is being dumb ://

Not a frat boy, but definitely lives by the mantra “work hard, party harder.”

Likes going out to frat parties and keggers first year, but calms down as time goes on. Sophomore year is more house parties and occasionally going downtown to clubs. By the time junior year rolls around tho, he and Jean are thee party hosts. Homecoming, Halloween, Pre-Thanksgiving break, you name it, those two have a reason to throw a party for it

But party doesn’t always mean absolute rager. Sometimes it’s just drinking with your friends, playing pong, and absolutely crushing Jean at uno. 

At parties with lots of other people, Eren really doesn’t let people fuck around with you, or any of his friends really. Once almost got into a fight because he watched a guy out his hands on yours and Mikasa’s waists to “move around you.” As if. 

Wears his key necklace around all the time, obviously. So he gives you a necklace with a lock on it, with both of your initials engraved on the back. 

Nobody really notices it at first, since the chains are long and the necklaces are you usually tucked inside your shirts. But one day, ever the observant one, Armin catches a glimpse of yours resting on top of your shirt. Cue squinted eyes looking back and forth between you and Eren before—eureka! “You and Eren have matching necklaces!!!”

Plays sports, not for a scholarship but just for fun. Gets very pouty when you can’t make it to his games; and gets extra pouty if you show up, but you’re not wearing his jersey.

On the flip side, gets very giddy when he sees you in the stands with his jersey on and very ostentatiously scoops you up into a hug after the game is over.

Literally does not know where the library is until you show it to him. Any of them. Help him.

The worst person to study with if he doesn’t have any actual work to do. Will bother you and prefer to gossip than to let you do your work in peace. If you need an actual study buddy, you should try Mikasa.

Drunkenly hits on you a lot. Scratch that, he hits on you regardless, drunk or sober, despite the fact that you’re literally dating him already.

Literally reserves at least two nights of the week to have dinner with Armin bye and you couldn’t even interrupt them if you tried.

Waits for you outside of your classroom if you’ve had an important presentation or something. Not always with anything cheesy or loud, but just to be able to cheer you on and congratulate you after.

Hates the act of going grocery shopping, but loves going with you. Also because you force him to buy things other than Anytizers and Kraft Mac and Cheese.

Steals your hair ties and scrunchies to put his hair up. Does not fucking give them back, and denies having them, even if they’re piling up on his wrist.

Will drive you anywhere and everywhere. He is your personal Uber. Even if you don’t want him to be, he would rather die than let you get into an actual Uber—and if it’s late at night? Forget it, Eren doesn’t care if you’re 45 mins away, he’ll come get you.

After you stabbed him with your pen for drawing in your notebook (with your very pristine notes), he started leaving sticky notes inside of them instead.

They’re all super random, usually incoherent, and sometimes just drawings, and you’d never tell him, but you keep every single one.

Cuts class a lot, but not to the point where he’s failing. Just when he feels like it’s deserved, you know? Like, if he attended lecture for a class all week, he deserved to skip Friday’s lecture. As a treat.

He’s embarrassing. Endearing, but so embarrassing. Like, singing in the middle of the street embarrassing. Asking you to do a TikTok in public embarrassing. Why do you even love him.

Moves off-campus during junior year and rooms with Jean and Armin in three-bedroom house. So, he’s never actually lonely, but he’s a little crybaby and will whine to get to you to come over.

LOVES sleeping over at your place, though. Because you live with Annie and Mikasa, so your place is always clean and always smells good. Plus Mikasa and Annie are usually busy, which means you get more privacy at your place.

Mikasa honestly just starts making breakfast for Eren in the mornings when he does sleep over, and Annie is so unfazed by his presence.

Jumps at the opportunity to join in on your girls wine-night or skincare-routine night. So what if it’s him and three other girls drinking red wine with face masks on and talking about Anne Hathaway movies while playing Monopoly Deal? It leaves him pleasantly buzzed and his skin is absolutely glowing, suck his dick, Connie.

Likely doesn’t understand a thing about your major/program but listens enthusiastically when you talk about it anyways.

His lock screen is the only selfie he’s ever convinced you to take with him. (That’s okay because he has many screenshots of your snaps for safekeeping and blackmailing).

Tries to get you to exercise with him. If you’re into that, then great. If you’re not, it’s okay, he always has time to stop and take a mid-workout thirst trap to send your way. Because he’s annoying like that.

Once accidentally replied to the whole class instead of just the professor on an email asking him to be a g and bump his 89.9 to a 90. Embarrassing. (The prof did raise in the end tho, so maybe he really does have some charm to him).

Has to wear reading glasses when studying for a long time/or at his computer for a long time, and even though he doesn’t like them, you think he looks super cute in them; so he wears them more often than usual. 

Calls you asking for the most obscure school supplies/stationary. “Babe, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare 4x8 poster board laying around now would you?” 

Mind you this is at, like, 3am, 12 hours before the poster board in question is due. 

Speaking of stationary, is an absolute little shit and steals your good pens. He’s partial to the sparkly ones, if he’s being honest. They make his notes look better, fuck you, Jean. 

“Eren, give me back my purple 0.4mm pen.” “I don’t know what that is, sorry.” “Eren, I can see it in your hand!” 

Brings you snacks while you’re studying. If you’re really trying to crack down and be serious, he won’t even bother you. Just bring the snacks, bring you water and boba, kiss your little forehead and be on his way.

Has a polaroid camera he got as a birthday gift, and uses it to sneak pictures of you whenever you’re not looking. He keeps the good ones hung up on a sponge board in his room.

He has a few.... riskier ones too, but those are for his eyes only.

Loves to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done. Honestly gets a little pouty when you don’t ask him lmaoo

Purposely leaves his clothes around so you can wear them. Isn’t subtle about it in the slightest. Sometimes leaves them with a note: “Please wear this, you’d look cute as fuck. Thank you. —Management.”

(slightly nsfw below)

Is not too proud to ask you for risqué snaps. Not necessarily full nudes, thought he doesn’t object to those.

Will literally give you hickeys out of boredom. Will pull you onto his lap and start kissing your neck because he has nothing better to do. Also because it leads to sex 7/10 times. The other 3 times, it’s because he falls asleep with his head in your neck lmaoo

Might have once fucked you with one of his lectures playing in the background, but you’ll never tell.

He really likes phone sex. He’s shit at being quiet, so he can only really do it when Jean and Armin are out of the house, but there’s something about only being able to hear your moans to get off that really does it for him.

He’s kind of goofy and absentminded sometimes, so sometimes you’ll be mid-sex and he’ll look at you like “Hey, did you finish your assignment, it’s due tomorrow right?”

And honestly, you kinda wanna be upset, but then you start thinking—“Did I finish my assignment?” And then you realize you did and nod and he’s like “Ok, cool,” kisses your forehead and resumes where you left off.

[tipsydipsydo]

The laundry hamper [M]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 2.2k 

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut

AU: College AU!; Roommates2Lovers AU!; Friends2Lovers! AU

Warnings: Dirty Language + slight Dirty Talk; sweet and shy but naughty Jungkookie; Mentions of Masturbation in the shower; Scent/Smelling-Kink; Panty-Sniffing; Masturbation; slight Voyeurism; Teasing; Petnames; soft sub! Jungkook & dom! Reader undertones; Mentions of mutual Masturbation; Mentions of 69-Position 

Summary: Jungkook has a crush on you since you moved together for college but the poor boy is way too shy to confess his feelings to you... rather he would search through your laundry hamper to get a shirt which smells after your very personal scent and tries to calm his racing heart... and other nerves. He didn’t thought to get catched by the person who already stole his whole heart in the most embarrassing situation...

A/N: Happy first year friendship anniversary with my dearest @borathae​!! I love you to death my sweetheart and I thought today would be the perfect occasion to finally finish this Oneshot I started 10 months ago and waited to get finished until today on my IPad... especially because you  was the person who gave me the inspiration to write this idea... I hope you like it!! 

Status: halfway edited bc I was stressed I wouldn’t finish it on right time- 

[Links]:

▪My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He knows it's bad and that he shouldn't do it. Well... honestly, already before this thought, which is haunting him since two weeks, he wasn't any kind of "well mannered" anymore. ...before you apologized for taking so much space with your shower untensils in the shower basket and then decided, to take your Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodylotion to your room.

The thing you didn't know was that you took with this decision, Jungkook's one and only opportunity to properly jerk off, with you.

Why?

God, just when the poor boy thinks about it... the thought alone gives him a rosy-red blush all over his cheeks, which almost reachs his ears and leave him completely flustered and ashamed.

How to explain it... your quiet, adorably awkward and super shy roommate, who has a crush on you since two years (or even longer!) tend to use your hair shampoo as a little "fantasy kick". How could he resist the opportunity to smell something so familiar which reminds him of you, so close?

How he used it you ask yourself?

While he was showering, he sniffed on the opened lid of the shampoo bottle like a fucking dog in his rut and jerked off to the smell of English Wild Roses. Yeah, even Jungkook himself is absolutely sure that he reached a whole new level of freakiness. Who else jack themself off while sniffing on a damn hair shampoo bottle?!

Jungkook has simply a thing for scents... especially for everything that smells like you. Whenever something of you comes in contact with his nostrils, he immediately pops a boner.

Really, it's not funny anymore when you feel that your dick is going hard just from getting a whiff of your crush's parfum when they're passing by.

Anyway, not your parfum or shower utensils are giving Jungkook a problem now, it's much more your laundry hamper which suddenly developts a really strong seductive affect on him.

Both of you having a seperate laundry hamper in the shared bathroom and also a laudry bag in your room. It's easier to have these two opportunities to put your laundry than walking always with an arm full of dirty clothes through the whole apartement.

Especially when friends of the other person are over and a pair of Kook's boxer briefs or one of your bra's found their way to the floor, unnoticed. Okay, 'unnoticed' as long as one of your friends are yelling that there is dirty underwear in the hallway. Of course not without dropping some stupid and teasing comments.

Yeah, it's really better for Jungkook's and your own peace to have a laundry bag in your room and a laundry hamper in the bathroom. Even when Kookie wouldn't mind it at all to be the one who would've found your lingerie...

...and that's the point. Since this one incidence with your dessous, Jungkook is haunted by countless absolutely filthy and indecent thoughts. At first he was still able to control them and to shove them away into the last corner of his mind. But after you took your shower stuff with you to your room, these fantasies returned really, really fast and his interest in your laundry hamper grew endlessly.

It absolutely didn't help that he pretty aware of the fact that you showered just a half an hour ago.

You made yourself ready to go to the movies with some of your friends. That means, he would be completely alone for the next few hours with the clothes you've worn before and are now own your very personal scent. How the hell should he survive this silently for him screaming seduction?!

Okay, okay, even when he'd took something off your hamper... just as a hypothetisch thought... it would be definitely only something completely innocent, like a shirt or something else. Really, he just loves to smell your wonderful personal scent. It's calming his wild racing heart... and in some way his unsatisfied desires as well.

Once again he takes a glimpse through the slightly opened bathroom door into the hallway which leads to the front door. Everything is silent, he is indeed completely alone in the apartement.

Now or never. Maybe he should take one of your worn out T-Shirts you always wear for house chores and isn't one of your favourite piece of clothing anymore. Maybe then you wouldn't notice that's even gone... for a longer time.

He shouldn't debate any longer before he reverses his opinion and pull back... he would slap himself if he'd let such an opportunity slip through his fingers unused...

As soon as he opens the lid of your laundry hamper, all his 'good and pure resolutions' are thrown out of the next bathroom window. Hebshould have guessed it, he should have known it... that your underwear is the last thing you take of your body before showering. Well, in conclusion, your panties are the first piece of cloth which is greeting Jungkook's eyes.

He's gulping harshly. Fuck, his brain knows that what he's doing here is bad and dirty, that he shouldn't do it... but his body and especially his dick is literally screaming and begging him to reach out for exactly this piece of lingerie.

Those tiny little wheels starts turning in Jungkook's head when he scans through your latest outfit. He remembers which Sweater and Sweatpants you wore. How could he forget those cute socks with this adorable avocado print on them.

...but no Bra.

Fuck... Jungkook can't explain himself why he finds the thought of you, being so comfortable in your shared apartement and around him, that you decided to not wear a bra underneath and let your tits bounce around freely, so god damn attractive...

Before he even realized it, his greedy hand took your used panties already out of the laundry hamper and lets the soft fabric slip through his fingertips.

It's a plain black cotton panty with a lacey border which has a beautiful flower pattern. Others would say it's boring, unspectacular underwear but for Jungkook it's already beautiful and beyond belief sexy lingerie. To imagine that you walk casually around in those panties everyday... Jungkook feels how his dick is already leaking precum in his boxer briefs.

With every second he holds this pair of panties in his hands, his poor, needy cocks hardens even more in his grey sweats. He gulps again. He shouldn't do it... but your panties are tempting him and his short patience.

Before he can control what he's doing, his nose is already buried in this piece of cloth and takes a deep breath.

If his other hand wouldn't already disappeared beneath his waist band and squeezed the base of his cock, he would've already blown his load right here in his sweats.

He's panting, his breath fast and ragged, trying to take as much as possible of your intoxicating scent into his lungs when he yanks his sweatpants down to his knees and lays his hand in a firm grip around his red, swollen and angrily leaking cock. He's literally dripping, so it doesn't take long until his whole palm is lubed thoroughly with his own precum.

Jungkook's mind is clouded, he can't built any proper thought anymore, your delicious smell makes him salivating and he knows, he feels it in every fiber of his body, that he already got addicted to the smell of your panties... your pussy.

He can't believe that you smell so good, like that fucking good that he almost blew his load already in his pants. Untouched.

His mind is spiralling, dirty thoughts get exceeded by even more filthier ones, every secret and forbidden fantasies which he hold under control for so, so long are crashing down on him.

God, what would he do to be the lucky person who gets you on top of him, queening him, his whole face buried into your pussy, your juices smearing all over his chin and cheeks and getting a good whiff of your perfect cunt first hand. He would happily die between your legs, suffocated by your thighs which you would've squeeze so tightly around his head that it would literally crushed him. He would die as the happiest man in the whole universe.

To imagine how you'd whine, whimper and growl at him... praising him for doing so good, pleasuring you so well, tugging at his locks because you can barely handle the pleasure you receive from his tongue and lips...

His fist goes faster and faster, his wrist will hurt so bad in the exam tomorrow... but that's Jungkook tiniest problem right now, he needs to cum so fucking bad, his balls are already hard and tight, feeling like they would burst if he wouldn't cum and time soon.

"Tz, tz, tz... what do we have here? I didn't thought you'd be such a naughty boy as someone who's so sweet and shy, Jungkook... sniffing your roommates panties and jerking off to them...", you snicker and smirk, even though bis back is still facing you. The later flinchs noticeably and lets a surprised and equally terrified yelp out, almost jumping around to you.

He's trying to save to situation and his pride, throwing your panties back into your open laundry hamper and pulling his pants up as quick as possible.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I am so, so, so, so sorry, it will never happen again, I am so sorry that you have such a disgusting roommate like me, I am so sorry, I didn't knew you'd come back so early again- oh fuck... I am so sorry, I am a disaster", Jungkook chokes out in a trembling voice and glassy eyes, a tiny little sob leaves him as well. He is truly ashamed and mortified to death.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, he looks so sorry and embarrassed, he couldn't look at himself in the mirror again. Slowly you start to shake your head 'no'.

"Oh Jungkookie, I didn't mean to shame you... I... I just was a little surprised to catch you here in the bathroom... having a little fun time with yourself... I realized halfway to the cinema that I forgot my wallet and I came back to get it... then I saw you and just wanted to tease you a little bit... ah shit- I think I just messed the things up as well... okay okay, stupid question from a stupid person who has a big, fat crush on you since months, if not even years... wouldyoumindmetohelpyoutocum?", you ramble nervously, now are your cheeks equally beet-red.

Jungkook's eyes shoot up to your face, your red cheeks, your big, questioning eyes and your lip biting is sending a new rush of exitement down to his softening cock, making him harden all over again.

"W-What? ...what?? You- you too? I-I am crushing on you since we moved in together and now you're telling me that you- ...oh my god, yes... yes... yes please... please help me. I am so needy and horny right now and your pant- you always smelled so good and it's driving me crazy... I am so horny for you, Y/N."

Jungkook couldn't control his blabbering mouth anymore, everything is just blurting out of him with such a force like the Niagara Waterfall.

You sigh in relieve and a bright smile is forming on your lips as you walk over to your crush and lay both of your hands on his cute and round cheeks, so you can look each other into the eyes.

"Jungkook, I would like to ask you if you're comfortable with the thought of me kissing you before I will... devour you?"

Just to hear the two words 'devour you' out of your mouth made his knees almost buckle. His head is moving by itself, nodding vehemently. But to his confusion you're shaking your head no.

"Babyboy, I need your verbal confirmation. Consent is key, alright?", you say in a gently yet firm voice.

Oh God, you'll be his death... calling him 'Babyboy' alone made a whimper slips past his lips which is why you hum very appreciately.

"Oh God, yes, yes, yes... please... please kiss me and devour me, Mistress- ugh, s-sorry, I- I didn't mean to say that", Jungkook coughs out all flustered again, don't dare to look you in the face.

Such a good, perfect babyboy he is already for you.

"Don't be shy, Baby... I like the title you gave me. When you like it, you can continue to address me with 'Mistress'. ...what about we change our location to your or my bedroom? I'd love to let you smell and taste my pussy... not just through worn fabric. I would take great care of your aching cock... I saw how swollen, red and leaking it was already. What about you eat me out while I take your cock into my mouth and jerk you off with the panties I wear right now. Hm, sounds good?

Jungkook's head is already spinning again when your lips finally meet, your mouth and tongue already taking the control over him and devouring him.

Yes, you'll be definitely the death for him.

[infernalrevenge]

Okay, so this is a spur of the moment sort of idea, but is it possible to have a headcanon of the four lords with a s/o who has terrible memory loss. And I don't mean forgetful, think more along the lines of Fifty first dates, like she greets one of the lords and they get talking, lords end up coming back cuz they liked their positive attitude, but when they come to visit again, s/o greets them like they've never met. Does that make sense?

Yeah I think I get what you're saying, though I never really watched the full movie HAHAHA I've only seen half of it but I know how it goes down. Hopefully, whatever I've come up with satisfies your idea :P

To stay true to the idea, reader here has anterograde amnesia -- characterized by not being able to retain short-term memories. They're aware of their own condition.

----------

Alcina Dimitrescu

Understandably, she'd be confused, caught off guard that you didn't remember the time you spent with her.

Honestly she might be so confused that she'll forget to be offended -- not that it would have ever occurred to her that she was bad company in the first place. You were so pleasant to be with too, so... what went wrong?

When you explain it all to her, you might actually be surprised at how quickly she gets it. Definitely isn't the strangest thing she's ever heard of. She knows too what it's like to be around someone with terrible memory -- her patience with Moreau is astounding and one she doesn't extend to just anyone.

(But you aren't "just anyone" to her. You were a warm presence, a ray of sunshine in that time you spent together, however short. She wanted to get to know you better, and if that meant putting much more effort into maintaining that connection with you, then it's nothing she can't do.)

She'll creep her way into your mind (and heart) through song. She'll invite you to the castle and teach you serenades and classical pieces, you sing while she plays the piano. It doesn't matter to her if you sing off-key or add your own silly lyrics -- if she's being honest, sometimes she even prefers your versions.

Every now and then, you do forget the notes and the words, but Alcina doesn't have a problem with going over them again if you hear a "new tune" you found interesting. It's a good thing too that she loves music so much.

One day, she might even catch you humming them while you sit with her in a comfortable silence. You may not be sure exactly how you know the song, but you're glad you're able to make the Lady smile by doing so. Maybe you'll try to learn the words next time.

Donna Beneviento

...was she really so unpleasant that you already forgot about her and the day you spent together?

She'll be so embarrassed if you don't remember who she is, thinking that the other day was a mistake and that she was just imagining the connection you two had. Not to be dramatic but she'll definitely run away in tears.

The best way to remedy the situation is to go after her right away and try to explain the situation. She might not even believe you at first, her anxiety initially convincing her that you made all this up as a way of rejecting her, or that this was all a mean prank. But if you're patient enough, she might come to understand it.

In the process of becoming part of your life, she'll definitely make something that will eventually remind you of her, or someone like her. She just wants something that would stick with you, ideally something tangible.

One day she'd gift you with a doll in your likeness, complete with its own clothes and accessories. She might even include a very small doll in Angie's likeness to go with it, to serve as that reminder.

Once you do get close enough, she says that she would rather have you call her "Donna" than by her formal title. Though this frequently slips your mind, it's no trouble at all for her to remind you. Besides, it's quite cute to see you say her name like you're trying it out for the first time, even if it may have been the eleventh. She loves the way you say her name.

And when it finally sticks to you after enough repetition and you greet her like that without prompting? Her heart just flutters.

Salvatore Moreau

Moreau has always known that he has terrible memory, but after meeting you? He's starting to doubt exactly how bad he could really have it.

As a former doctor, he might recognize the diagnosis you give him after explaining it and he goes "Oh.... Oh!"

He'll be so relieved it's not because you wanted to let him down gently by feigning forgetting the memory of what was literally yesterday (but also he'd understand if you did, he almost threw up on you in excitement. Come to think of it, maybe it was best you didn't remember that part.)

Still, he'd be determined to spend a lot of time with you and become a part of your working memory somehow. Though he knows there's no cure for such an affliction, he'll want to make an effort to include some aspect of himself into your routine.

He'll write you little notes and letters, about how wonderful you are and how you make him feel whenever you two are together. He'll give you a journal so you can write about all the cool things you want to remember later on (and part of him hopes you write about him too.)

(And of course you write about him, who would ever want to forget about the sweet doctor fish man who just wants to be loved and a part of your world.)

One day, he catches a glimpse of one such diary entry -- and he only knew that because he saw the cute little doodle you made of him, along with a small heart next to it. He swears he never meant to pry, but he thinks about it for days and days. He's never been happier.

Karl Heisenberg

Oh he'll be mad at first, for sure. He's likely the type to express first and ask questions later when it comes to these matters, but the anger is more out of confusion than genuine offense.

If you try to explain it, he may just think you're lying at first. "If you wanted me to leave you alone, you could just say so," he'd say. But at the same time, there'd be such a sincerity in your voice that it would be hard for him to keep denying it. Fine... maybe you're not pulling his leg then.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't make trinkets in his spare time. He can be a big mean metal worker all he wants but I can also picture him having made a keychain or two in his life. Maybe even a necklace. They're not perfect or polished by any means, but he just likes making little things with scraps left over from bigger projects.

That said, he'll give you some without much of a second thought. He probably ask you first if you want to keep any the first time you stumble upon his messy workstation at the factory. They looked pretty neat, so you took some of them home.

You might find yourself fidgeting with the moving parts of it, trying to rack your head and remember exactly where you got them and how. Was it on a trip? Did you get these as souvenirs? Why did one of them look like an electric fan with legs?

Sometimes you'll show him all this stuff and talk about how cool they looked. Your favorite might be the one that looks like a hammer, but the fan with legs was a close second. You tell him to be careful of the sharper parts though (wouldn't want him to get tetanus.)

He may or may not get a little embarrassed as you gush about your "new" trinkets. You might offer to give some to him that he likes but he insists you keep them, especially since you like them so much.

[marvelouspeterparker]

all worth it

pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader

summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.

warnings: none, just fluff

notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh

so tom loves his job, obviously

he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more

but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career

there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot

and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews

now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun

but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast

so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day

but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit

you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya

some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different

you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello

you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to

your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it

when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself

‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding

‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’ 

they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat

when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away

you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work

you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more

tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing

when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt 

you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off

‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along

zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’

you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him

‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’

you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’

tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them

though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon

or so you thought, anyway

your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)

you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)

‘hi love, how are you?’ 

his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone

‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’

he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’

you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely

‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off 

you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking

but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?

you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen

the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried

it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom

surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside

and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one

as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face

but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar

‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused

‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)

without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it

‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’

you laughed and looked up at him

‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’

you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled

he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’ 

you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him

and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside

were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?

he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat

tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i

zendaya: yeah but we already knew that

tom: 😑

harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy

jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch

jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏

tom: thanks babe 😘

zendaya: i’m just gonna go––

tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing

not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text 

tom: nevermind she just texted me

tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up

maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are

you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind? 

and you––nevermind he responded immediately

tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number 

tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course

you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright

were you really about to facetime tom holland?

when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied

y/n: sure, i’d like that

he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered

when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly

‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly

your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face

‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’ 

when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked

‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile

‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’ 

soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing

‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’

‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’

and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever

after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it

‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’ 

you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’ 

you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again

you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you

‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’

you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’

‘even better than my movies?’

you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’

he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’

‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked

‘you know i will’ he smirked

by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change 

honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%

which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you

‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you 

‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’

he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview

once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work

‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’

‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’ 

he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’ 

you paused. of all times to flirt––

‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere

now the fans took notice of your bond with tom

they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars

there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––

‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’

and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not

you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you

i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing

it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up

you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said

‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly

he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’

you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’

‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’