#and I don’t think it’s been like many months since he ended that engagement or anything

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #57

[ambers-archive]

got love struck ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .˚ ✧ ˚　

in which spencer wants your anniversary to be perfect, but everyday is perfect with you. word count: 2.1k cw: purple scarf cameo, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending, established relationship. (english isn't my first language, minimal proofread!) pt1 what if all i need is you (can be read as standalone)

Spencer closed the tab on his computer, a frustrated scowl forming on his lips. For days, he’d been scouring the internet, spending sleepless nights hunched over his desk, searching for the perfect anniversary gift for you. It was your first year together, and everything had to be perfect.

But nothing felt right. Every idea he considered was quickly dismissed. He shut his eyes, trying to quiet his overthinking mind.

You two met at his favorite coffee place, he noticed you right away when he realized you stole his seat. 

You had yourself perched against the chair nuzzled against the rest of the wall. 

And after a week of ogling you across the room he finally got enough courage to start a conversation over a book you were reading. Then with shaky fingers and some mumbling he finally had the courage to ask you out, suggesting a tour of the city since you just moved.

Spencer knew his demanding work schedule wasn’t easy on you. You were so patient, understanding, and kind—perhaps too kind, he often thought. Canceled dinner dates, postponed trips, missed laughs, and missed love were all too common. Yet despite it all, you always met him with a reassuring smile.

“I know you’re busy saving lives,” You had told him once, as the two of you cuddled in bed after the third missed date in a row. He hadn’t had anything better to offer than a string of apologies, and he feared one day it wouldn't be enough.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s got you so upset?” Morgan asked, his voice pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

Spencer took a moment to collect himself before turning to Morgan. “I’m trying to figure out a good anniversary gift for her.”

In a room full of profilers he didn’t think they’d be so keen on his social cues, but of course they noticed him constantly fidgeting and sneaking quick glances at his phone. 

Emily was the first to find out about you.

The teasing lasted months.

Penelope was rushing toward his desk with her tea in one hand and Morgan’s coffee in the other.

“You have to go all out!” Garcia exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. “Chocolates, flowers—oh, please tell me you’ve got the whole day planned!”

“Calm down, baby girl,” Morgan laughed, taking his coffee. “I’m sure our genius over here has something in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “I want to make it special since it’s our first anniversary, but I just don’t know what she’d like.”

“Well, what are her love languages?” Penelope asked, ready to unleash her vast knowledge of relationships.

“I think it’s quality time,” Spencer replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about you. “She’s always engaged in our conversations, making strong eye contact, putting her phone away, asking questions. She also lingers after dates.”

He paused, recalling the moments you’d linger on your doorstep after he drove you home, the way you’d breathe him in after a kiss, your forehead resting against his. “She never seems in a rush to leave, like she values every moment we spend together.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. “There you go, pretty boy. Think about what she loves, what makes her happy. That’s the key.”

Spencer nodded picked up his phone, scrolling through the list he’d made of all your favorite things.

He stopped on a picture of you smiling back at him from the screen, a photo he’d taken during one of your many picnics. Your hair had been flowing in the wind, your eyes crinkled with your smile as you explained the meaning behind one of your favorite songs. It was the same photo that graced both his phone and laptop backgrounds.

“She loves almost every kind of art,” he whispered, his heart swelling with affection. “Renaissance literature, realism paintings, classic books. And she’s really outdoorsy too.”  He whispered, his heart expanding, pumping. thump, thump- laced with love.

He thought about the countless picnic dates, the times you’d coaxed him out of bed for a run or a hike. His mind wandered to what you might be doing right now—your second class of the day had likely started, and he imagined you taking notes, doodling in the margins.

Penelope and Morgan exchanged amused glances, their lips quivering with smiles as they listened to Spencer’s lovesick ramblings.

“Looks like Reid’s got it bad,” Morgan whispered to Garcia, who stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“He really does,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hadn’t seen you in two weeks, four days, twenty-three minutes, and fourteen seconds—far too long. He didn’t want to waste another moment as he approached your door, your favorite flowers in hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait another second, as you opened the door before he could even knock.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Every day, he found himself falling for you more and more. You gave him a shy smile, stepping out to wrap your arms around his taller frame. He hugged you back immediately, burying his head in the crook of your neck. When you finally pulled apart, he took a proper look at you, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. In that moment, and in every other, you were the epitome of beauty—a vision that left him utterly mesmerized.

“These are for you,” Spencer said softly, offering you the peonies. He realized they paled in comparison to you, but nonetheless, he held them out.

“You never forget them, Spence,” you said, your voice equally soft. Spencer chuckled, half-offended that you’d think he ever could—eidetic memory or not.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, taking your hand as he led you to his car, opening the door for you. “I have the whole day planned.”

“Yeah?” Your head rises of its own accord against the car seat. 

"I really want it to be perfect." 

It’s already perfect because how much better can it get you thought? You're in his car, your favorite songs playing in the background and his hand never leaves your side. 

“It already is.” You say grazing your thumb over his knuckles. 

You finally reach the place away from everyone else. “There’s a trail nearby and a perfect place for a picnic.” Spencer whispers, slipping his hand into yours again. 

It fits so perfectly.

You smile, squeezing his hand “Lead the way.” 

In a field of daisies Spencer pulls out a blanket, carefully placing his gifts as he pats the spot next to him. You nestle against his taller frame, he smells like sandalwood, coffee, and home. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, he smiles down at you playing with your hair absentmindedly. 

“You. Always you.” You get the familiar, but nevertheless oh-so welcome kick in your stomach every time he smiles at you. 

“What about you?” He asks in return, and you shrug, not able to convey all your emotions. 

“I'm thinking that I want my gifts.” You say slightly pouting.

With a shy smile, Spencer untangled himself from you and reached for the presents. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package and a small painting, both wrapped with care.

“I hope you like them,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Your eyes lit up as you unwrapped the gifts, revealing a limited edition of Sylvia Plath’s work—a book you’d mentioned offhandedly that you’d been searching for. Your gaze met his, overflowing with emotions you hadn’t known were possible. You always believed in love, but this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. It made all the heartbreaks of the past worth it because they led you to him.

You abandoned the gifts, flinging yourself into his arms. He laughed, catching you as you both tumbled onto the grass. Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you like them,” he replied, still holding you.

“How did you even find it?” you asked, marveling at the book.

“Brittney Johnson—remember the missing persons case we solved? Her dad’s a book collector. He was really grateful and said if we ever needed a favor, he’d be happy to help.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. You’d spent so long building walls around yourself, convincing yourself you didn’t need a relationship. But with Spencer, those walls crumbled before you even had a chance to put them up.

“I also wrote you a card, my handwriting isn't the best, but I know you like words of affirmation” Spencer said, reaching into his bag. But before he could present it, dark clouds gathered overhead, and raindrops began to fall, dampening the ground.

“Seriously?” Spencer groaned, quickly sheltering you with his jacket. The chocolate and sandwiches were ruined, along with your clothes. The two of you hurried to the car, making sure the gifts were safe, and finally found shelter inside.

“I’m sorry our picnic was ruined, angel,” Spencer said, helping you fix your hair.

“It’s not ruined, Spence. We can have a night in, order some Chinese, and finish a new episode?” you suggested, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he started the car.

𐙚 ✱ ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .

Back at your apartment, the two of you hurried inside, drenched from the rain. You kicked off your shoes and quickly disappeared into your bedroom, returning with dry clothes for both of you. You handed Spencer his sweater, the one you’d “borrowed” long ago, and couldn’t help but smile as he accepted it.

“Hey, I was looking for this,” he said, pulling on the warm sweater.

“Sorry I stole it,” You replied, not the least bit apologetic.

He shook his head, following you to the kitchen, where you were setting up takeout containers on the counter. The sweater smells like you and he thinks he should let you keep it. It smells like cherries, winter warmth and like the love of his life.

“I love that you did. I feel closer to you whenever I wear it.”

You blushed, grateful he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks as you turned to grab plates. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I planned our anniversary,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You turned in his arms, cupping his cheek as you gazed into his warm eyes. “Spence, it was perfect. It’s not about the flowers or the gifts or the picnic. It’s about being with you.”

Before Spencer could respond, you gently stepped out of his embrace, suddenly remembering you still had his gift to give.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said with a smile, rummaging through the gift bag. You walked back to him, holding up a beautifully knitted purple scarf.

“My mom’s been teaching me how to knit, and this is the first thing I made. It’s for you. I know you get colds easily, and keeping your neck and chest warm can help reduce the shock of inhaling cold, dry air, which irritates your respiratory tract. I even stitched my name on the end, so a part of me is always with you.”

Spencer’s face lit up as he accepted the scarf, immediately noticing how it carried your familiar scent.

“This is so thoughtful,” he said, his eyes soft with appreciation. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been this concerned about my colds. Although, just so you know, wearing a scarf alone won’t prevent you from catching a cold. Colds are caused by viruses, usually spread through respiratory droplets or by touching contaminated surfaces.”

You smiled at his rambling, finding comfort in the way his mind worked—it was like a love language all its own. Chuckling softly, you wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it just right.

“It’s the thought that counts, angel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s already my favorite scarf.” He then brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

It's in the quiet, messy, beautifully imperfect moments like this, spencer thinks: where love is felt in every heartbeat, every glance, and every shared breath.

thank you so much for reading <33

[nfr-girly]

fiancée life with hasanabi? <3

I love this sm!! I imagine this could carry on after this fic of mine <33

————————————————————————

-the moment you and Hasan get engaged, he will not keep his hands off you for ONE second

-he’s just so protective of you now, he always was but EXTRA

-the moment he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he devoted himself to keeping you safe

-of course with that came his fans. Everyone knew about you and Hasan, and there had been some hate around but you didn’t take it to heart, Hasan loved you even more for that <3

-he left it up to you to decide if you wanted people to know, i imagine you guys would do a hard launch where Hasan posts one wedding photo on his story and doesn’t say anything about it for like a MONTH, while everyone’s going crazy. It doesn’t get brought up until a random Fear& episode where they talk about his ring

-poor Hasan had so many doubts if you wanted to marry him though, he didn’t want you to feel pressured by his fan base. But you didn’t care about any of that. You only wanted him <33

-Hasan definitely would leave all the decorating choices to you, he’s known since you two were only friends what type of wedding you’d want, and he plans to give you EXACTLY that

-Hasan would also be very humble about his engagement, obviously he would talk about it with his friends but he doesn’t feel like he can talk about it as much as he wants cause of his social media presence. At night when it’s just the two of you is when he rambles on about how he feels. How excited he is to start this life with you, how he’s so happy you’re in his life and that he doesn’t deserve you. As he’s rambling you’re just lying there trying not to cry cause you’re just like “what did I do to deserve this man??”

-If you guys do decide to keep it a secret, Hasan will come up with ways to see you while he’s streaming without chat being suspicious. Like toilet breaks, or pretending the bell rung, one time he’d be like “I’m gonna see kaya make sure she’s okay” when she’s literally behind the chair.

-he just pretends he didn’t see her, he did

-I can definitely imagine a scenario where Hasan accidentally forgot to take his engagement ring off for a Fear& episode, but no one questions it cause they think Hasans told everyone.

-then will comes out with “do you guys have a date for the wedding?”

-Hasan FREAKS out, mans is already preparing to kill will barehanded not knowing his rings on display

-Hasans Like “what??” And acts all confused, then wills just like “the wedding date, for you and y/n??”

-Hasans looking at will shaking his head, trying to get him to understand that NO ONE KNOWS

-finally will realises and is like SHIT

-he does immediately jump to defend himself though by pointing at his own ring finger and then looking at Hasans hand

-Hasan looks at his finger and sees he hasn’t taken his ring off. I’m not even joking the pod is silent for two straight minutes after that

-you end up finding out about it and Hasans so worried you’re mad but really you find it funny as fuck, you laugh about it with Austin and qt for almost 10 minutes

-Hasan is PANICKING though cause he knows how fans can be and they don’t know how they’ll act towards you

-you reassure him it’s okay and it’s a relief you two don’t have to hide it anymore <33

-literally Hasan is just so in love with you, like in all the ways someone can love someone he loves you

[targaryenluvs]

YOURS TRULY

pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.

warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications

a/n: look who decided to write again!

Icons not mine, credits to the owner!

it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.

by his side.

at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.

because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.

“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.

there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.

but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?

over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.

everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.

but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.

“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.

it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.

“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.

“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”

percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”

“bet i could catch her before you.”

“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’

“you wanna bet?”

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”

“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.

“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”

as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.

[roanofarcc]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

pairing: boone x fem!reader

summary: years spent in a mediocre relationship with your “highschool sweetheart” comes to an abrupt end. instead of the heart break you thought would consume you, you feel free. and that freedom leads you right to boone’s front door. 

warnings: sad boone, relationship issues, unrequited love (or so one thinks!), a curse word or two, mentions of drinking (brief). I am a firm believer of buying boys flowers :)

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

“Welcome, everyone, to my humble abode,” Boone said, dramatically gesturing to the small house at the end of a dirt road. The place was decorated in a very Boone-like fashion with odd scraps of metal loitering the side yard, junk cars they oftened used for scrap parts when any of their vehicles broke down, and some wildflowers that his mother had sprinkled around the front steps when he first moved in a couple years post-high school. 

His road consisted of three other houses, miles away from anything besides corn fields. The houses had all changed, but Boone kept his the same considering he wasn’t there for much of the spring and summer months, and he spent the winter holidays in Florida with his retired mother and father. 

“Thanks for letting us crash at your place,” Kate said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t think I could’ve slept in one more motel.” 

Javi nodded. “I’m still scarred from the roaches.” The last couple of places they’ve stayed had been less than ideal. They were grimy and bug-infested. All of the Wranglers were excited to stay at an actual home for once. 

They all hopped out of the truck, meeting up with the rest of the crew who pulled in right behind them. Boone enjoyed his home more when there were others inside of it. He didn’t like the quiet and he hated his clear view of his neighbor's home.  

The darling little blue house had stood there since Boone had moved in. The porch had been painted and the landscaping changed a hundred and two times, but the house was still sky blue and always decorated for the seasons. 

He made the mistake of looking at the house for a beat too long. It was like the universe was looking down at him, laughing and serving up some karma alongside his arrival. The front door swung open, and you walked out. He should have looked away and followed his friends inside, pretending like he never saw you, but he couldn’t. You looked up after locking your door and your gaze fell right on him. For a moment you looked at each other from across the street before a smile broke out on your face and you hurried across your front yard, right towards him. 

“Oh, man,” Boone muttered under his breath, hands reaching to fix his hair and smooth out his wrinkled cutoff. 

“Boone?” Tyler said, clapping his shoulder before his eyes fell upon you. “Oh.” Tyler didn’t need to say more than that. He knew about Boone’s stupid crush on you since the moment he moved in. And as many times as he tried to shake it, you made it impossible to let it go. 

You’d been in a long-standing relationship, not married nor even engaged, but dating for as long as Boone could remember. It was awful of him to like someone who was already dating someone else, but there was something about you that made it impossible to rid his brain of it. Every time he saw you, it only made it worse because you were the epitome of neighborly. You baked him cookies and remembered his birthday. You offered to water his flowers and mow his lawn when he was away. You waved at him from the mailbox and told him stories and invited him over for coffee. You always asked about his storm-chasing adventures and listened with so much intent it drove him crazy. 

It was a pathic thing, he knew that, pining after a taken woman, but he couldn’t help it. And he’d never act on it, despite how much he loathed your boyfriend. Boone didn’t find himself around your boyfriend that often, for many reasons. But the times he had, he noticed how lackluster he was in comparison to you. Bland and boring with a touch of douchy-ness that rubbed Boone the wrong way. He knew most of his opinion was formed in jealousy, but the rest of it was the little tidbits of information you offered up to him. You didn’t necessarily complain but rather vented. Like the time he forgot your anniversary and tried to apologize with some lousy dinner at his friend's bar. Or all of the times he brushed off your excitement for certain things. The biggest thing though, that you had only admitted to Boone once on a winter’s night after you had wandered over after drinking a couple glasses of wine, was how he never wanted to talk about marriage. Every time you brought it up, he shut you down and left you waiting for some kind of sign of forever. 

Boone was pretty sure you didn’t remember telling him that, but he did. He couldn’t imagine someone being with you and not wanting to settle for forever. And sure, not everyone wanted to get married, but it was clear that you did and were waiting for some kind of initiation from him that never seemed to come. 

“Boone!” you shouted from the edge of his driveway, a bright smile on your face that twisted his gut into knots. He waved and walked forward just as you gave him a hug. You were always warm and smelled sweet, and you never failed to hug him when you caught him returning home. 

“I didn’t know you were due back yet?” you said, pulling away but staying close. 

Boone cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Y-Yeah, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing; no one wanted to stay another night at a motel.” 

“Can’t blame ‘ya there.” Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight, captivating. “Why don’t y’all come over tonight for some drinks?” 

Dani and Lily cheered from behind Boone and everyone aside from Tyler nodded their heads. 

Boone couldn’t say no; he had no reason to other than spending time with you was certainly going to make his affection worse. Tyler looked at him, unsure and sympathetic, but Boone ignored him and offered you a lopsided smile. “Sure thing.” 

You clapped your hands and bid them a good afternoon as you strolled back to your home. It wasn’t until Boone turned around that he dropped his head in his hands. 

Tyler whistled, slinging an arm around Boone’s shoulder as they all headed towards his house. “You’ve still got it bad, huh?” 

Kate turned around, curious. “Got what bad?” 

Boone said nothing as he unlocked the door and ushered everyone inside. Tyler answered for him as he pulled off his boots in the entryway. “A bad crush on the neighbor.” 

A gasp sounded from Lily. “No way! I didn’t know you had a hometown honey!” 

“I don’t,” Boone sighed, plopping down on the couch that was a little dusty from lack of use. “She’s got a boyfriend.” 

“Oh, man,” Javi said with a slight wince. “That’s rough.” 

“You’re tellin’ me.” 

Later that night, Boone shook off his nerves as he led the group of Wranglers over to your house. It was an uncomfortable mix of feelings that twisted around inside his gut. He always liked seeing you and catching up with you, but at the same time, he always found himself flustered and hit with the brick of guilt for liking you. He thought about moving to avoid his achy heart, but that seemed a bit extreme considering he was hardly home anyway. And he wasn’t sure he could give up seeing you, even in passing. You were a friendly face above all else, a calmness to his otherwise chaotic life. 

He knocked on your door, and you opened it with a wide smile, ushering everyone into your backyard. In the dim light of the evening, a fire was cracking in the pit and different beverages were resting in a small cooler. 

Boone ended up sitting beside you, your knees knocking against his. He fiddled with the tab of his beer and worked up the courage to ask, “What’s James up to tonight?” 

You seemed to hesitate before answering, “He’s out for a work thing.” 

There was an itch for him to ask more, but he decided against it and resorted to sipping his beer and listening to his friends start to recant their chasing stories to you. It all was in good fun, a nice night despite the close proximity to you. The fire crackled and smoke danced upwards, melting with the deep blue sky peppered with stars. 

The conversations flowed like you had been a part of the Wranglers since they started. You were easy to get along with, sweet and talkative. Boone wasn’t even sure what the time was before the group started stifling yawns. Finally, Tyler made the decision to head back, prompting everyone to tiredly agree. 

They offered you a mix of hugs and handshakes, a nice goodbye while you offered them a ‘come around any time.’ Boone lingered behind, picking up trash while you smothered in the fire. 

“Your friends are nice,” you said. 

Boone smiled lightly. “Yeah, they’re pretty great.” 

You grabbed a couple discarded cans and hugged them to your chest as you double-checked that everything was picked up. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you looked conflicted. A crease sat between your brows, something worry-filled or upsetting, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe he wasn’t as close with you as he was with the Wranglers, but his ever-growing feelings led to him becoming extra observant whenever he was around you. Subtleties in your actions were as big as wild gestures in his mind. 

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, not wanting to pry or overstep. 

You met his gaze for a second before you sighed. “I’m…I don’t really know.” 

He made a bold step forward, lessening the gap between you just slightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“You asked about James earlier,” you started, suddenly fascinated by the grass under your feet. “I lied.” 

“About what?” he scrunched his face in slight confusion. 

“He’s not out for work. We…we got into a fight, actually. A big one. He said he needed to cool off but…that was three days ago.” 

The confession caught Boone off guard. He nearly lost his balance. “O-Oh,” was all he could mutter. 

You let out a shaky laugh, but not a humorous one. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you continued. “It’s just…I haven’t really talked to anyone about it. And then you showed up and I…Well, I like talking to you.” 

Boone tried not to think about your words too hard, but his heart beat a little quicker inside his chest. He couldn’t muster up the right words before you started talking again. “You know the worst part about it? I’m not even that upset. I should be, right? If we were so in love, I should be upset that he walked out without even trying to talk things through. But I’m not. I should feel different, but I don’t. I don’t even miss him.” 

You groaned loudly and dropped down onto the old log that had been fashioned into a bench. You let the cans tumble into a pile on the grass as you held your head in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Boone said, slowly lowering himself beside you. “You can’t really help how ‘ya feel, or so I’ve been told.” 

“We’ve been together for ages,” you sighed. “It should hurt but it doesn’t. I think we’ve just been, like, stuck and too scared to admit that things don’t feel the way they did back when we first got together.” 

Boone felt like he was treading into dangerous territory without proper equipment. Like he was barreling right into a twister without anything to keep him grounded. But he knew he couldn’t think of himself, he had to think of you. You were upset; he didn’t like that. He couldn’t fix it, but maybe he could offer some generic, Hallmark advice and it would be okay. 

“Maybe he does just need time to cool off,” Boone suggested. “Space isn’t always a bad thing, right?” 

You shrugged. “We’ve fought before, but this felt different. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I want him to come back.” 

Boone let out some air from his cheeks, unsure of what to say and unsure of what you wanted him to say. Luckily, you spoke before he had to come up with something. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry, again. You should get back to your friends. I’m just rambling.” You laughed nervously, standing up once more and recomposing yourself. But he noticed the way you brushed your hand under your eyes and ducked your head. 

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” Boone said, quietly. “If you're not happy with him then…you know…” 

You smiled softly and nodded, and Boone took that as his moment to leave. He hurried back to his home, his heart racing inside his chest underneath the moonlight. 

You chewed on your nails nervously, pacing your kitchen for what felt like the millionth time that morning. After sleeping on your split feelings to Boone, you felt a weight grow heavier and heavier on your chest, a crushing feeling that tried to break your bones every time you saw the storm chaser on his brief visits home. It was wrong, you knew that, to feel something towards someone else while in a committed relationship. You’d never act on them while dating your boyfriend, but you subconsciously found yourself thinking of Boone. 

For a while, you thought maybe it was just a rush of intense friendship that you hadn’t felt in ages, and you confused that with romantic feelings. But the less and less you and your boyfriend felt like a real couple, the more you started to think about Boone beyond the bounds of friendship. It was all fantasy, something to keep your heart occupied while your boyfriend drifted further from you each time you desperately tried to pull him back in. 

The truth was you weren’t working anymore. Whatever spark you’d both been trying to fan for years finally gave way and left you both cold. But for some reason, you both were scared to end the first real relationship you’d ever known. 

After your fight, the absence of your boyfriend didn’t make you miss him, it made you comfortable in the quietness of your home and your freedom. So, you made the call. After trying and failing to bring your relationship back from the dead, you called it off and he agreed with a heavy sigh full of relief. 

Your heart was still tender and jumping into another relationship right away wasn’t what you wanted, and spring was still young. Boone left with his team to finish out the rest of the season chasing, and you worked on yourself until you found yourself in a place much better and brighter than you’d ever been in before. You felt lighter, a newfound sense of life in your veins. 

Once the months started to turn into crisp breezes and shorter days, you found yourself on the front porch of Boone the day after he returned home. 

He swung open the door with a smile and polite, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” you greeted, pulling out something from behind your back. It was a small bouquet of flowers picked from the patch in your backyard. “These are for you.” 

He blinked in surprise. “For me?” Boone chuckled and took him with a carefulness, like he was scared the breeze would take them. “Why in the world are you bringin’ me flowers?” 

You couldn’t stop grinning; your cheeks hurt. “I came to ask you a real important question.” 

He looked beyond confused but nodded for you to continue. 

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” 

Boone looked like he had short-circuited, eyes bulging out of his head and body frozen for a stretch of time that made you start to second guess your bold proposal. It took several moments for him to shake himself loose and ask, “Are you serious?” 

You nodded, heart beating nervously against your chest. His face broke out in a grin almost as wide as yours had been and he lurched forward, picking you up by the waist and spinning you around in front porch light. You threw your head back laughing, nerves subsiding in a moment of bliss. 

He sat you down but kept his hands on your hips, a little breathless and shinning. “Hell yeah I wanna,” he replied, as if his reaction didn’t tell you everything you needed to know.

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 1

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why these days, I live my life flipping it off.

--

It’s been a week since I started my “sinful life” as a Fairytale Keeper.

It wouldn’t be long before I could go back to my former life after keeping this secret—at least that’s what I thought.

--

Darius: While I didn’t expect there to be a get-together soon after our arrival to England, I’m happy.

That night, a dinner party he called a get-together was held…

Between “Crown”, an organization directly under the command of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and “Vogel”, an organization directly under the command of Germany.

All members were together in one place.

Vogel had just arrived from Germany a few hours ago.

~~ Flashback ~~

Victor: Vogel is a research organization that’s dedicated to the societal contribution of the Cursed Ones. They will be staying in the palace for a few months as goodwill ambassadors.

Darius: Our motto is “the betterment of society through the Cursed Ones”

~~ End flashback ~~

(They looked friendly, not people you should be wary of)

However, there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now.

Harrison, whose power allowed him to see through lies, said “they’re lying”— 

(So long as we don’t truly know them, we shouldn’t let our guard down yet)

Darius, who I believe is the chief of “Vogel” was sitting next to William and enjoying his conversation with him.

(For now I think it’s better for me to lie low and stay quiet)

On the table was a spread of dishes that Victor had put his all into preparing.

(Even though it all looks so delicious…I’m too nervous to eat)

Nica: What’s this? Robin, you haven’t touched your food. Then I’ll take this cherry.

Ring: Nica, you’ll get a stomach ache if you take a stranger’s food.

Nica: What’s with the serious warning, little brother? It’s just an excuse to make an appeal to be friends. Ring, you’re really out of touch.

Ring: …I’m ignorant.

The twins looked similar, with the same hair and eye color.

Kate: Nica and Ring…right?

Nica: Yep, you remembered our names? We remember yours too, Kate. Even though we just met, I think we’ll get along? Hey, show us around the palace. Let’s get out of here.

He slipped his arm around my waist with a practiced gesture and whispered in my ear.

(Wha…)

The moment I stood my guard, I felt someone tug my arm from the opposite side.

Roger: Sorry to interrupt, but Kate’s got a prior engagement with me.

Kate: Roger!

Roger: The queen’s aide’s great at showing people around the palace. He’ll be delighted. Victor, would you mind showing our guests from Vogel around?

Victor: Yes, of course! I will show you around every nook and cranny.

Nica: (¬_¬)…

Nica narrowed his eyes at Victor and then smiled.

Nica: Vielen Dank (Many thanks)

William: While I’d rather not, it’s time to call it a night.

Darius: You’re right, Lord Rex. We of Vogel would like to get along with Crown like a family. Should you ever be in trouble, we’d be delighted for you to turn to us for help, okay?

--

—In a room in Crown’s castle.

In a luxurious room prepared for Vogel, Darius sat comfortably in his chair and smiled.

Darius: What did you think of our get-together with Crown?

Nica: Amazing. I tried to lure the lrobin, but the hunter got in the way.

Darius: Hunter? Ah, you mean the “double-crossing hunter” Roger Barel. Hehe, wanting to snatch the robin* from them is quite reckless.

Ring: …About Roger Barel and that girl…are they together?

Nica: They’re not. But there’s no doubt that Crown cares for the robin a lot.

Darius: Gathering information is our main goal. It’ll be valuable material for eventually realizing our ambitions. Ring, Nica. Continue to gather any useful information on Crown and Robin.

Nica and Ring: Verstanden/…Understood

Darius: …Roger Barel. A former doctor with a strange fixation of “Cursed Ones”. Does he have a place in our “family”?

--

As the get-together came to a close, people started filing out of the room one after the other.

Before I knew it, even Roger disappeared…—

(H-huh?)

I ran out into the hall and saw his solid back.

Kate: Um, what was that prior engagement you mentioned, Roger…?

When I called out to him, he looked back at me in the empty hallway.

Roger: Did I make a mistake thinking you were in trouble?

You did that to help me? +4 +4

I was in a lot of trouble. +4 +4

You weren’t mistaken. +4 +4

Kate: You didn’t. Thank you.

Roger: You looked like a lost dog so I thought I did you an uncharacteristic favor.

(Dog? …No, I didn’t hear that right)

When I thanked him again, I saw a hint of scheming on his face.

Roger: By the way, I didn’t say I did it for free, did I? You’re gonna have to pay me back for saving you.

(Eh?)

Roger: I was thinking about going out drinking with Ellis and Jude. Join us.

Kate: Huh, now? Woah…Wait, Roger!

--

Roger: Phew~That hit the spot. The first drop of beer’s blood, you know.

Ellis: Heh, that’s what you always say.

Jude: Can’t believe he’s a doctor. Well he’s a quack.

(Before I knew it, I ended up getting dragged to a bar)

(It’s something I’ve noticed, but Roger can be a little…no, very pushy.)

Furthermore, it’s a wonder how Jude, who looked like the type to refuse an invitation, was sitting here with a sour look. 

Red-headed waiter: Here you are. Fish and chips, bramboraky(?)**, and…

Jude: Just how much did ya order? Ya ate a lot at the get-together.

Roger: I never have my fill when picking at those small fancy food.

Ellis: Are you full, Jude? I can still eat.

Jude: You’re still a growin’ kid.

The trio act like close friends…

Kate: Heh, hehe…

I couldn’t help but laugh and Roger squinted at me with a beer in hand.

Roger: The heck, so you can laugh like that after all.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You know you haven’t laughed since you became Fairytale Keeper?

(What…what? But he’s right, this whole week, I haven’t…)

Roger: You don’t eat much and when you do, it’s like you’re chewing sand. Maybe you did…Or I should say, maybe you didn’t notice yourself?

(Tasked to keep a secret for a whole month as a Fairytale Keeper, and to record the evils before my eyes)

(Not to mention…Vogel’s sudden visit)

Desperate to just push through it all, I gradually neglected the things needed to live, like eating and laughing.

I was like a plant slowly wilting away.

Roger: I know you got a lot of things on your mind that make you anxious. But it’s times like these where you gotta work on yourself. Eat, sleep, play, laugh, recharge your energy. Otherwise you’ll easily get swallowed up by despair in this darkness, lil’ lady.

Kate: …

Roger’s words pierced my heart.

(He’s right…What was I so weak for?)

I could struggle all I wanted, but the anxiety would never leave until I’m safely out of this darkness.

I know that…but.

(The only one who can truly protect me, is me)

(I absolutely cannot give in)

Kate: …You’re right. There’s no time for weakness or despair. Thank you Roger. Now then, time to dig in!

As if to get over it…I stuck my fork into the steaming meat before me and brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Mm…delicious.

(...Somehow, it felt like I was properly enjoying food for the first time in a while)

(It’s so good to be alive and have delicious food)

Roger: …

Jude: Oi, who do ya think you are takin’ the first bite.

Kate: Ah, sorry! I got ahead of myself.

Ellis: Don’t worry about it Kate. Here, try these chips with rock salt.

Kate: Wow, this is really good! It pairs well with alcohol.

Roger: Oh, you drink pretty well. Barkeep! Two more beers.

Barkeep: Gotcha. Two large beers comin’ right up.

The golden beer and the food were delicious, and laughter reached my ears.

(...Ah, this is fun. I feel like I’m finally able to breathe)

(He pretty much dragged me here, but I’m glad I accepted Roger’s invitation)

I didn’t know how much of Roger’s actions were calculated and how much was in good faith.

But it’s a fact that his pushiness saved me.

(Roger really does have a lot of common sense and is like a mature older brother)

With those simple thoughts in mind, I continued on drinking and drinking…

--

—I woke up in a soft bed.

(Huh…last night I was drinking at the bar, and)

While in my drowsy and lethargic state, I groped around for a warm cloth when—

Kate: Hm…? …??

(...I’m naked?!)

I quickly wrapped myself up in a blanket with only my face peeking out.

…And noticed something familiar laying by my pillow.

(...Glasses?)

The black-rim and intellectual-looking frame was definitely memorable.

(These glasses…)

The moment I nervously picked them up, the bed squeaked— 

Roger: Hey now, those glasses aren’t a toy…Come on, give it here.

When the glasses were snatched out of my hand, I looked up to see a half-dressed Roger hovering over me.

Kate: …W-why are you here…

When I looked at him, he smiled as if to tell me the question was pointless now.

Roger: You passed out drunk so I had to carry you back. And after dropping you off, you wouldn’t let me go.

Whether it was true or not, the way he said it made it sound like I was pleading for him and my cheeks warmed.

(I-I held Roger back?)

(And…moreover)

My eyes took in his muscular chest and abs that were freely on display.

(T-too much stimulation…)

(I don’t know where to look)

Not just his bare chest.

Muscular arms peeking out from his shirt, broad shoulders that connected to a thick neck, and a lean waist.

(But, he was like beautiful sculpture)

My eyes unconsciously traced the supple skin.

His muscular body disguised his intelligent features and that gap alone was enough to make me dizzy.

Roger: …It’s not bad being ogled like this.

Kate: Eh?!

Roger gave me the wickedest of grins.

I’d been unconsciously staring at his body and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Kate: S-sorry…

Roger: Don’t worry about it. You’re a lot cuter than you were yesterday.

Kate: Did I…end up doing something yesterday?

Roger: “Something”.

Roger lowered himself and whispered to me.

Roger: …Yeah, last night was pretty hot, wasn’t it lil’ lady?

(N-no way…Me and Roger?)

Next

-

*Darius says red riding hood but the subtitle says robin

**Send help. I have no idea what the heck バンブリーキ is. Perhaps bramboraky according to @/hoerayner

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Sussex Survivors Club

Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast dropped an article yesterday about the latest Sussex employee to bail out.

There's some good gossip in the article, such as:

For example, one photographer who was requested to pitch to work for their wedding told The Daily Beast: “It was incredibly exciting to be asked to present for the wedding. I had to go to Kensington Palace where I laid out several mood boards in what was then their office. Eventually, Meghan walked in, took one look at what I had prepared and said, in the meanest way possible, ‘No.’ Then she spun on her heel and walked out. I was left in tears. It was horrible.” Another contractor, a florist, The Daily Beast was told, was “monstered” by Meghan after posting an innocuous message on social media trying to source flowers for a bouquet Meghan had requested they make. The florist vowed never to work with Meghan again despite the prestige associated with such a client. Harry, by contrast, has generally been seen as a considerate and thoughtful boss. Another contractor who worked at his wedding told The Daily Beast how Harry helped set up one of the bars in a marquee before the event kicked off. 

There's also a couple eye-rolly moments like this one:

Reports this week, in the wake of Kettler’s departure, have claimed that 18 people have resigned or left Harry and Meghan Markle’s employ since she married Harry, with nine leaving since they moved to the USA. However, defenders of Harry and Meghan would be quick to point out that some staff, such as James Holt, who moved to America with the Sussexes, have remained in post for many years, and point out that there is plenty of churn in Prince William and Princess Kate’s office too, but they don’t get accused of being bad bosses every time a new hire doesn’t work out.

(Eye-rolly because why do we even need to drag William and Kate into this to begin with? Oh, I forgot. Because Tom needs his paycheck and Meghan needs her SEO.)

Anyway. I was going to do a deep dive into the photographer and florist to see if there's any more details there but...18 ex-staffers seems awfully low compared to all the stories that have trickled out over the years.

So let's count them!

Kensington Palace Survivors

Christian Jones. Meghan was papped taking him to lunch, causing many to believe she poached him from Burberry and he was working directly for her; however, when the household split, Christian stayed at KP with the Cambridges. I'm too lazy at the moment to check, but I think Christian was one of the four KP staffers that planned to testify in one of the lawsuits, and I'm fairly certain Meghan's pissed at him about something (or everything) because Endgame ended up being a hit job on Christian.

Amy Pickerill. She was formerly Harry's PA but transferred to staff Meghan during the engagement and was so closely trusted by Meghan that Amy was given the honorable task of...airport duty? (Amy was tapped to pick up Doria at the airport for the wedding.) Amy is suspected to be one of the two PAs that Meghan bullied, descriptions of which Jason Knauf included in his letter. Amy quit working for the Sussexes, went private for a little bit, but was then immediately hired by The Royal Foundation, where she became involved with Earthshot, where Kate was overheard greeting her with "Well done, Amy!" It's also believed that Amy is the PA whom William was once witnessed comforting while she was upset. Amy is also suspected of being the aide seen crying (after being yelled at by Meghan) by one of the royal reporters; the reporter chose not to print this incident when it happened because "privacy" but later admitted it sometime post-Oprah.

Melissa Toubati. Formerly Robbie William's PA, she joined KP during the engagement and was assigned to the Sussexes' staff, where she helped plan the wedding and the Australia tour. She quit after about six months or so after the Australia tour, where allegedly Meghan threw a cup of tea and/or a pair of scissors at her, which allegedly led to a handsome payoff by the BRF and a NDA. She is the aide that Valentine Low described as getting fired for something she didn’t do, suspected to be related to a disagreement over Meghan’s accepting of freebies. Harry then threw her under the bus in Spare, writing that he and Meghan turned her in to HR for taking freebies that were sent to Meghan. (Thanks for the correction, anon! Original text left below.) Melissa is thought to be the second of two PAs referenced in Jason's letter.

did get a shoutout from Harry in Spare, who said that Melissa and Meghan butted heads over Meghan wanting to keep all the clothes she was given while Melissa was in favor of following protocol (i.e., returning all the clothes or sending payment for each item received).

Samantha Cohen. She was a valued aide to Queen Elizabeth, given to the Sussexes to help Meghan learn the ropes and whip their staff into shape. Samantha the Panther famously accompanied Meghan on her first (only) engagement with The Queen - yes, the hatless toilet tank engagement - and to Australia. Sam's assignment to the Sussexes was just supposed to be a few weeks, but it stretched for well over a year. Samantha later made private remarks that have since become prophetic, that Meghan had no interest in getting along with anyone (or something to that effect) and she has also made comments that Meghan often screamed at the staff (including her) and pushed Samantha past her breaking limit.

Edward Lane Fox. He was Harry's valued aide, having worked for him for five years and is largely the brains behind Invictus Games. He announced his departure from the Sussexes' staff a few weeks before the wedding, allegedly citing Meghan as the reason why he was leaving. He continues to serve on Invictus Games' board. About six months before the wedding, Ed gave Meghan a 30-page dossier on being a member of the BRF, on everything from curtsey protocol to fashion tips to advice about walkabouts to information about charities and public life. Meghan apparently refused to read it.

Sonia Lane Fox. ELF’s wife. I can't find her name or many details about her, but she supposedly worked for Meghan during the engagement and couldn't take it anymore. She left soon after ELF did.

Edit: I’m getting asks from anons saying that ELF and Amy Pickerill are married but that’s not true - at least not in 2018-2019 when all this went down. I did some insomnia research and found this list of Sussex wedding guests, where ELF is mentioned as attending with his wife Sonia (and here is their engagement announcement). ELF and Sonia could very well be divorced now and Ed remarried to Amy (but still, I doubt that because there would be mentioned in some of the stories about former Sussex staff); however, since what is known about ELF’s wife working for the Sussexes is dated to the wedding, this means Sonia and she remains a separate entry.

Unnamed Assistant. Bower discusses this assistant in Revenge, saying this particular individual once had to call Meghan after hours for clarification, which led to Meghan screaming at her "you can't do anything right, I'll do it myself."

Sara Latham. Technically Sara didn't quit the Sussexes, the Sussexes quit her. She worked for the Sussexes all the way through Megxit, after which she was absorbed by Buckingham Palace.

Natalie Campbell. Natalie was a KP staffer mostly well known for the work she did with Meghan's Hubb Cookbook (aka I think Natalie did all the work and Meghan just posed for the photos). It's not clear what other work she may have done for the Sussexes (or the Cambridges) or how/on what terms she left the Sussexes' staff.

Clara Loughram. Clara's an interesting staffer. She initially came into the Sussexes' employ while working at KP. She helped with the wedding planning and was the woman who gave Meghan her flowers when she arrived at St. George's Chapel for the wedding. She stuck by the Sussexes' when the household split and lost her job through Megxit; however, the Sussexes later re-hired Clara as a freelancer for Archewell, who worked on their UK projects but Clara has since left the Sussexes' employment.

Edit: Apparently Clara established her own company that the Sussexes continue to contract for support planning their overseas work, according to some anons. I’ll still leave Clara in this list because she doesn’t technically work personally for the Sussexes anymore.

Jason Knauf. The big kahuna. Everyone knows Jason's story. He was the Communications guy for KP, working with William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan. When the household split, Jason stayed at KP with the Cambridges. He advised Meghan on her letter to Tom and poked a lot of holes in her testimony. He also wrote a damning letter about Meghan's behavior towards staff that led to the bullying investigation, which was DOA.

Katrina McKeever. She was part of the communications team at KP and was said to have also helped Meghan with the wedding planning. She quit just before the Australia trip, allegedly over Meghan's harsh criticism of how certain wedding plans were executed though Meghan denies criticizing anyone.

Melissa Crow. She used to be Madonna's assistant and allegedly worked for the Sussexes but quit abruptly. There's not a whole lot of information out there about her - it's totally possible that people confused her for Melissa Toubati, but I'm including her anyway on this list.

Unnamed Female RPO. This woman quit after (or in the middle of) the Sussexes' Australasia trip. Many suspect her to be the blonde RPO seen escorting Meghan through the terrifying Fiji market.

Staffer Who Quit In Africa. An unnamed staffer who quit the Sussexes' office - or pulled out of consideration for a Sussex position - after joining the team for the Sussexes' South Africa visit.

The Midnight Nanny. One of the nannies hired by Harry and Meghan after Archie was born allegedly quit mid-shift in the middle of the night over the Sussexes' behavior.

Another Unnamed Nanny. If I'm remembering the details correctly, the Sussexes went through several nannies before finding "the perfect fit." I think there were three nannies trialled, including the midnight nanny (see above).

Another Unnamed Assistant. I don't know if this is the same unnamed assistant as the one further up or if this is someone who's already been named, but there was a second assistant who Tom Bower claims Meghan threw under the bus with her freebies.

Let's take a break for a second. That's 18 known staffers that quit working for the Sussexes. (Okay, 17 because Sara Latham didn't technically quit.) Already we've blown Tom Sykes's estimation out of the water. Again, 18 people that quit their jobs in a span of 23 months. But sure, let's talk about the turnover in William and Kate's staff.

And we're not even counting the RPOs Meghan pissed off by treating like her personal servants!

Archewell Survivors

Ben Browning. He was the head of content for Archewell and worked the Netflix deal. He quit after the docuseries.

Bennett Levine. He was also involved in the Netflix deal with Archewell.

Catherine St-Laurent. She's the Gates Foundation poach. Didn't last very long, less than a year I think. Not really sure what her role was. I think she was supposed to be like a CEO or an Executive Officer to Archewell. Her quitting was the subject of a CDAN rumor alleging that no one actually likes the Sussexes, they're just working for the resume credit.

Josh Ketter. Harry's CEO-assistant who quit this week after only three months in the position. The Sussexes are spinning it as his employment was only temporary. Sure, Jan.

Fara Taylor. She was hired to do Archewell's marketing but lost her job when they "streamlined" the Archewell staff. (aka they didn't have money to pay their staff.)

Rebecca Sananes. She was on the Archewell Audio side of things and helped Meghan with the podcast. She quit (or was "let go" - it's not clear which) after Spotify failed to renew Archetypes for a season 2.

Mandana Dayani. She's the big kahuna of post-Megxit, and the staffer who worked the longest with Meghan. She served in a COO-type role for Archewell, overseeing much of the charity work and helping Meghan with her personal brand development. Mandana did accompany Meghan to Uvalde. Mandana allegedly abandoned Meghan, leaving her high and dry by creating American Riviera Orchard for Meghan but not doing any of the paperwork or developing any ideas for product.

Toya Holness. Archewell's press secretary. She was said to be a mini-Meghan or a "Meghan in suits" (something like that, which didn't make sense). She didn't last very long.

Now, Tom Sykes said there were 9 staffers who left the Sussexes after they moved to California. This is only 8 people. I'm not sure who the ninth is - maybe he's counting Clara, who was rehired by the Sussexes post-Megxit? If so:

Clara Loughram. Clara's an interesting staffer. She initially came into the Sussexes' employ while working at KP. She helped with the wedding planning and was the woman who gave Meghan her flowers when she arrived at St. George's Chapel for the wedding. She stuck by the Sussexes' when the household split and lost her job through Megxit; however, the Sussexes later re-hired Clara as a freelancer for Archewell, who worked on their UK projects but Clara has since left the Sussexes' employment.

Edit: Apparently Clara established her own company that the Sussexes continue to contract for support planning their overseas work, according to some anons. I’ll still leave Clara in this list because she doesn’t technically work personally for the Sussexes anymore.

So in sum. That's 26 known people who've quit working for the Sussexes. There's probably a few more that we don't know about, both from the KP side and the Archewell/post-Megxit side.

Tom Sykes can go ahead and shove his "let's talk about Kate not being able to keep a CEO" talk where the sun don't shine because 26 people quitting is not the same as 3 people quitting.

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

7: The Summer Days (series masterlist)

summary: 3 weeks after you found out about everything, it seems as if the world became memory lane, numbing everything you felt. But maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: minimal use of Y/N, neglect, depression, making out, suggestiveness, death, underage drinking, rudeness, breaking down mentally and physically, talks about mother and fatherhood, italics are memories/flashbacks

wc: 6.7k+

a/n: i told you i didn’t forget about this series 🤞i also just finished reading the actual book early this july, so it was such an eye opener on how the characters really are

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Coriolanus and cut him out of your life; It’s been two weeks since you graduated high school with his diploma in tow with your own; It’s been exactly one whole week of feeling completely numb to all emotion. You tried to let yourself embrace the pain and truth, but it seemed that you would rather become immune to the truth than face it.

At first, your father encouraged you to take time to heal and think about your situation — how it could affect the Lovett reputation. Then he got tired of constantly dealing with a daughter that got heartbroken by a Snow, a cheater nonetheless. He gave up all attempts to help and understand you. Instead, he indulged himself in handling your future engagement with Festus Creed, roping you along.

You were to be engaged in mid-August, merely a little less than a month away. When you heard of the plans, it only solidified the armor coating your heart and the numbness you felt. Being numb was better than feeling the pain inflicted upon you during the Hunger Games.

“Have you talked to Festus yet?” Clemensia spoke carefully, taking a small sip from her tea.

“About what?” You practically whispered with how softly you were speaking. It occurred to you that you hadn’t spoken more than a few words a day toward others, making your frown deepen.

Clemensia sighed and pulled your hands into her own, rubbing the back of your hands soothingly. “About all of this. I know you didn’t want this, yet it seems like you’re too… Indifferent about the engagement.”

“I don’t get how being engaged and eventually married to Festus would make everything better or worse.” You pull your hands out of her hold. The lack of physical affection made you recoil from any you were to receive. “I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” She glanced at your fidgeting hands and back up to your dulled eyes. It clicked in her head when you tried reaching up to mess with a charm that was missing.

You had lost your light in the world. You lost your silver rose.

She remembered the exact moment when you knew you were utterly in love with Coriolanus. It was a memory she believed was a core part of your life.

“Why are you all smiley?” Clemensia raised her brow at you, watching the exact moment when your eyes practically became hearts.

You became warm at the sight and strong gaze before meeting Clemensia’s eyes instead. “What?”

“Did Coryo arrive?”

“I—“ You try to search for a better excuse for your behavior before finding none, hanging your head low in shame. “Yes.”

Without much thought, Clemensia nudged your arm. “You’re so in love with him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Were you in love with Coriolanus? You had only been dating for a couple of months, but you had known each other since childhood.

“I think I am.” You recount many memories where you never wanted to leave his side, all ending with the same feeling.

“You… What? Where are you going?” She rushed out, following you through the mass of students crowding the house. “You’re gonna tell him? Right now?”

“I mean, why not?” You shrugged. You didn’t think it mattered too much when you said it — especially when you both knew you had some kind of strong feeling pulling at your heartstrings. “Plus, I’m a little tipsy already.”

Clemensia’s mouth dropped in shock. You were so sweet and innocent before Coriolanus got to you. Well, more or less already impure from the books you read and spoke about with her.

You managed to slip right in front of Coriolanus, gaining another smile from the blonde. “Hey, beautiful. I was wondering when I could get to spend some time with you tonight.”

“Well, I’m here.” You lace a hand with him, thumbing the pulse point near his wrist. “And a bit tipsy.”

“How much have you had?” He dropped a hand toward your waist — pulling you close when a group of people ran behind.

“Just a tiny bit.” You pinch together your fingers with little space in between. “I’m not overly drunk or anything.”

Coriolanus hummed as he tilted your head up. He saw your glazed eyes, but he knew you hadn't been drinking so much. He pressed a light kiss on your lips, feeling your smile.

“Can I tell you something?” You whisper with full confidence. He grinned and nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think I love you.”

His eyes widened, searching yours for any other reason you would say such a thing but truth. “You think?”

You tilt your head, “Well, no.” Coriolanus deflated at your response, trying to show no emotion through his facial features. You look between his eyes before frowning, cupping his cheek. “I’m not saying I don’t love you, Coryo. I’m saying ‘No, I don’t think I love you.’ I know I love you.”

He lets a breath of relief out, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Scared me for a second, beautiful.”

“Why?”

“Because I have loved you since the day I understood what feelings were.” He pulled you in for a mind-searing kiss, taking your breath and heart away.

“Oh, Y/N,” Clemensia murmured, holding you to her chest as you numbly let her.

Despite the affection, you felt the heartache from deep within you. It needed to be replaced with something else. Something that could help you recover from the damage and loss.

Wandering the halls of your home was something that you began doing a lot more often since Coriolanus left.

The Lovett Manor held so many memories in your lifetime. From the day you were born to the second the war ended. Each and every memory either good or bad is filled with distinct feelings and secrets only those residing long enough would know of.

Your memory of the Manor was written on the back of your hand, each and every detail embedded in your mind. You knew how many different sets of stairs there were, and how many different times you read the books in the private library. Yet as your hand brushed against the chipped paint of your old nursery and room, memories were faint, like a whisper in the wind.

“Mama?” You whisper, small hands clutching her soft ones. “Don’t leave yet.”

She smiled tenderly at you, tucking pieces of your hair behind your ears and encasing the stuffed bunny in your arms. “You have to sleep, baby.”

“But I’m scared.”

“Of what?” She ran her fingers down your cheeks, rubbing as you tried to find the words to express yourself. “Take your time, it’s alright.”

“I’m scared that you’ll leave me and never come back.” You sniffle, crawling into her lap. “I’m scared I’ll never see you again.”

“I’m right here,” She kissed the top of your head, pointing at your heart. “And I’ll always be there, even if you don’t see me.” She rocked you back and forth, “You’ll always have my love with you… I promise that even if you don’t see Mama, I’ll be watching over you. Like an invisible string.”

“You promise?” You hold your small pinky out, peering up into her loving eyes,

“I promise.” She intertwines her pinky with yours, kissing her thumb to lock it. “Now go to bed, sleepyhead. I love you.”

“I love you more—“

“Miss?” Em knocked on the doorframe of the nursery, causing you to flinch and drop the pink bunny onto the dusted floor. “Sorry to bother you, but Miss Snow is here to see you.”

“I’ll be down in a second, thank you.” You mumble, making up your old bed just as your mother did and tucking the bunny underneath the covers. You missed her dearly. Even the heavens knew how much she meant to you, yet they took her away at such a young age. She would know what to make of your situation. She would beg your father not to marry you off to Festus. She would help you through your heartbreak.

Yet she was gone. But you knew she was there to watch and protect you — tugging at the invisible string.

“Tigris,” You attempted a smile that seemed strained at the least, sitting across from her. She was dressed in her finest, making you question what exactly you were needed for. “Is there anything I can help you with? Would you like some tea?”

She shook her head and politely declined, clasping her hands together. “Oh no, I’ve just come to speak with you — If that’s alright.”

“Of course.” You signal for the Avoxes and your handmaid to leave the room. Silence occupied the space before the blonde spoke again, seemingly less confident than she appeared to be.

“How have you been holding up since… Well, everything.” She waved her hand in the air, recounting the many events that have followed the Hunger Games. Tigris watched you subtly flinch at the implied mention of the games. She knew how they — The tenth annual Hunger Games — were being erased from Panem, hoping it would fade as a mistake and a nightmare. She pursed her lips together, “I know I haven’t been checking in with you, but so many things are happening back at home and it’s just a lot.”

“Don’t stress about me. I’ve been… Coping, for a lack of better words.” You reach for your necklace to find it missing for the nth time since you’ve returned it to its buyer. “I’ve learned to accept my losses with the little dignity I have left. My days are boring and dull, but I’m sure the engagement will liven something up.”

You know the engagement won’t help the least, but why worry Tigris even more?

She widened her eyes in surprise, “Your father is still making you marry Festus?”

“It’ll boost the family name.” You say with sarcasm — the first real emotion you’ve shown in days.

“Y/N…”

“Tigris, if you’ve come to sympathize with me, it’s not needed. I’m doing as well as I can under my circumstances.” You suddenly snap toward the blonde, feeling like it was a ruse to get some kind of emotion out of you.

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it, giving you a turned-down smile. “I’m afraid this conversation has gone in a different direction.” Standing, she nods in respect before quickly adding, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come and find me. Grandma’am and I are more than happy to have you over. And I know it may seem a tad bit weird, but you’re family to us.”

Your gardens were another place you loved dearly. From the hedge maze encasing the fountain in the center to the rows and rows of flowers, each and every one blooming during a different season; It was truly a sight to behold.

As of recently, you found solace in the garden. Of course, you weren’t allowed out of the house without your trusted handmaid, but it still felt nice to just be out where it felt like all your issues were resolved and gone.

Honestly, it felt like you were four again. It felt like you were running through the gardens with no care as to how the world would be when you got older.

Your parents invited the Snows over for dinner, meaning you and Coriolanus were left with your governesses — who made sure you were well-spoken for your age — until dinner started. While your parents were conversing around the gardens, you took it upon yourself to rid the boredom you both felt.

You blew out a hot breath, furrowing your brows in frustration. Pushing yourself up from the plaid blanket, you offer your hand to the blonde boy — tilting your head. “Follow me?”

With almost no hesitation, Coriolanus intertwined your hands together as you both ran away from your two governesses. Your giggles filled the air when you saw they made zero attempts to chase after the two of you. You both raced through the gardens, making twists and turns until you were out of breath.

“Where are we going?” Coriolanus squeezed your hand, following your every turn. When he received no response, he urged you to stop moving, halting his running. “Hello?”

You shush him, releasing his hand to hold onto the railing while pointing toward the setting sun. You push up on the tip of your toes and smile at the many colors painted in the sky. “Look! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Coriolanus was not expecting you to show him the sunset. He’d seen the sunset multiple times, why is it suddenly so special? He shrugged, “I guess.”

Yet you were entranced with the setting sun despite his lack of energy in response. You smiled wide as the wind blew through your unruly hair, “I know it’s beautiful, Coryo.” You turn your head and face him with your splitting grin, light brightening your eyes. “Everything in the sky is beautiful.”

“Like you.” Coriolanus slipped out before shoving a hand in front of his mouth. He watched you step down from the railing, confusion taking over your gaze.

“Me?” You murmur, picking at the bracelet around your wrist. “I’m not nearly as beautiful as my mother, or your mother, for that fact.”

He continued to keep his mouth shut, still shocked at his response.

“Whatever.” You sigh as you lean against the railing once more, repeatedly tugging at the bracelet. “I still think the sky is quite beautiful compared to most things.”

Coriolanus finally shrugged the shock off, moving to stand beside you. “I think you have the sky beat, beautiful.”

You shake your head at the memories flooding your mind. Those memories were too long ago for you to believe Coriolanus still loved you after the stunt he pulled. Taking the cream envelope from your dress pocket, you peel it open, smiling when you recognize Sejanus’ handwriting.

Dearest Flower,

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was recruiting for the peacekeepers until the day I had to leave. But, I do know something that can help you release all the pain without harming yourself mentally. I have a friend in the Capitol who can teach you all you need to know to release the pain about this… Let’s say, dilemma, you have. He lives near the bakery we always visited after school. If you have any questions about it, please write! I already miss your annoying voice. And don’t forget to update me every week!

From District 12,

Sejanus Plinth

P.S. His name is Phineas Miller.

“Wait, rewind.” Clemensia followed you through the Capitol’s square, ever bustling with many of the Capitol’s elite members. “We’re going to the bakery to meet with a guy Sejanus told you about?”

“I trust Sejanus.” You affirm as you push the bakery door open, bell jingling above the both of you. “If Sejanus trusts this Phineas guy, then I trust him too.”

She gave you a look of disbelief, “You realize how dangerous that is right? You could be walking into the arms of a murderer?”

You turn your head away from her and roll your eyes. Weren’t all Capitol students now considered murderers for mentoring students to their deaths? Besides, it’s not like the guy you were going to meet up with was a murderer right? He works part-time at the bakery for Panem’s sake.

“How about you find us a table and I’ll get some pastries for us.” You almost demand as she stalks off to find a table closest to the exit. Shaking your head at her, you glance over the bakery once more.

It had been a while since you’ve gone to this particular bakery, but nothing really changed other than popularity. The pastries looked the same, the rooming looked the same; so you were quite surprised when Sejanus told you the guy was found near here.

“Coryo, you don’t have to buy me the sweets—“

“But I want to.” He cuts you off before placing a soft kiss on your lips when he watches your mood turn sour. “Love you.”

You return the kiss, although begrudgingly. “Love you too.”

“Are you two done? We still have a project to complete.” Felix called out to you, causing the both of you to whip around and glare at the boy. He put his hands up and slowly turned back to Festus and Livia — the pair laughing at his own consequence.

Coriolanus points out the pastries you wanted toward the worker, squeezing your hand every time you tried to interrupt him. You were nervous as you knew how expensive this was going to be, but he was just too stubborn to listen to you.

“Never get between a girl and her sweet, right?” The cashier rang Coriolanus up, tilting his head in your direction.

You shrug and incline yourself closer to the blonde to your left. “Depends if you’re talking about the one currently paying for the food or the actual sweets itself.”

“Touché.” He handed you the containers, giving you a customer service grin.

Glancing down at his name tag before Coriolanus whisks you away with kisses to your temple, you find his name to be—

“Oh, you’re Phineas!” You exclaim at the male working the counter, causing him to give you a weird look. “Sorry, I just had a memory appear and you were in it… Sorry.” You cleared your throat, slowly walking up to the cash register.

“How can I help you?” Phineas wiped the flour off his hands, raising his eyebrows at you. You opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off, snapping his fingers in your direction. “You’re the girl who has a taste for sugary sweets and that scary boyfriend.”

You feel your face contort in displeasure, “Sure, but—“

“Where is he by the way? Isn’t he usually attached to you in some way or form?”

“Do I owe you an explanation? I barely know you.” You tap your fingers on the marble counter. You didn’t think he would be this nosy, but here you were. And you didn’t expect him to remember who you were either…

He shakes his head at you, “Okay okay, how can I help you?”

“Sejanus said I could talk to you? He said that you could help me with a mental exercise or something.” You mutter out, pretending to be interested in the sweets presented in the glass casing.

Phineas’ eyes widened with surprise, “I know I’m being quite annoying, but I didn’t expect you to be the girl Sejanus was talking about.”

“And why is that?”

“Nothing, but will that be all?” He rang you up, making you tilt your head in confusion.

You eye the pastries and back up to his fascinated gaze. Of course, he would pick the same ones Coriolanus picked out for you. “I guess.”

“Great, I’ll see you in a week in the gym next door!” He cheerfully handed you the container, moving on to the line of customers behind you.

“I— What?”

Disappointment was etched onto your face as you let your handmaid dress you. Your father said you were to promenade with Festus today in the parks. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but you were just told this morning, so your mood was more than unkind to those surrounding you.

“Must you tighten it so much?” You grunt as the corset gets pulled harder by Em. “I can barely breathe.”

“Sorry, Miss Lovett. It’s over now.” She ties the back before brushing down the floral sundress that adorned your body. “Will you need me to pick jewelry out or—“

“Thank you, that will be all.” You quickly speak, stepping down from the small stand where the mirror stands. “I’ll call for you when needed.”

She gave you a worrisome look before nodding in respect, shutting the door as she left your room. You purse your lips in frustration the second the door shuts. How could your father drop this on you all of a sudden? You were meant to stop by the Snow’s new place early in the morning to offer a basket of goods and needs, but your plans had now been pushed to late in the evening or tomorrow, which irritated you.

You swiftly snap on a pair of earrings and a golf bracelet, ditching the urge to find a necklace to wear. Glancing at the mirror one last time, you smoothed down the creases you left when digging through your jewelry and tucked stray strands of your hair away. You huffed as you thumbed your wrist, averting your eyes to the top left of the mirror. You don’t know why you still had the photo hanging, but you couldn’t take it down if you tried. It hurt to take it off.

“What did Professor Sickle say again? We only need 10 to 15 minutes in the sun? Or that we need at least 10,000 steps per day?” You wave your hand in the air with no intention of actually recalling what the gym professor said several days ago. “Because I think we’re well past the average.”

“I think I always have been,” Coriolanus spoke with an amused grin, earning a slap to the chest from you. “What? I do a lot of walking, you know this.”

You raise a brow while shaking your head. How could you ever hate Coriolanus Snow? He’s the perfect combination of everything you want and more. It was just a bonus that you knew him long before the war started.

“I can’t believe you said that.” You murmur in amusement, standing back when children run past the both of you — Kites and stuffed animals in tow.

Coriolanus watched your eyes light up at the sight of mothers and their children playing together. He knew how much you missed your own mother despite everything that happened; He also missed his own mother. He continued to observe you when a young girl — seemingly around the age of four — came up to you holding a flower.

“Is this for me?” You lean down and take the rose delicately when she nods shyly. “Well, I think it’s gorgeous, almost as pretty as you are!”

“Are you a princess?” The young girl asked with a curious gaze and reached to feel the silk you wore that day.

You smile and fully crouch down to speak with her, tucking a strand piece of hair behind her ear. “If you say I am, then yes, I am a princess.”

Coriolanus practically melted at the sight of you with children. You adored them, making him wonder how you would be if you decided to have children of your own someday. Perhaps with him…

“Really?” She lit up and held your hands in her own small ones. The young girl was practically bursting with joy, causing your heart to squeeze with happiness. She turned to look at her mother, “Mommy, I found a real-life princess!”

“That’s amazing, baby.” She scooped her child back into her arms and balanced her on her hip. “Sorry about her, we just read a book together about fairytales.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” You take Coriolanus’ hand as you get up, dusting your dress off with a small grin. “I’m glad she has an amazing imagination and such a gorgeous smile.”

“Is that your prince?” She pointed at Coriolanus with a shy smile — hiding her face in her mother’s neck when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“He sure is, isn’t he pretty?”

Coriolanus gave a curt nod in their direction with his pearly whites on display, only reaffirming the young girl’s allegations. He leaned into the child, whispering a secret. “Between you and me, I think the princess is much prettier than I am.”

The little girl giggled, “You’re both pretty.”

“Now what are you telling her, Coryo?” You lean in as well, eyeing the both of them with faux suspicion.

He put his index finger up to his lips, earning another laugh from the young girl. You press a kiss to his cheek as you both lean back, waving goodbye to the girl and her mother. Watching the little girl leave, you felt for your necklace, twisting it around with slight excitement.

“You know, you’re going to be a great mama one day,” Coriolanus whispered by your ear as you continued your stroll around the park, hands intertwined once more.

You blush profusely at the thought of raising a child, nevertheless Coriolanus’ child. “Well, you would be a great father.” You peck his lips, smiling when he chased after them when pulling away.

Later that day you were approached by a photographer from the same park, handing you a print of the photo he took of you and Coriolanus after you interacted with the young girl. You thanked him, pointing out the bright smiles on your faces to your partner as he listened intently to you.

“Y/N?” Festus lightly tapped on your hand, causing you to blink your thoughts out of your head and focus back on the conversation. “Are you alright?”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded, “Yeah, sorry, just got inside my own mind.”

“You know, I don’t want this as much as you do.” He fiddled with the box in his jacket pocket, watching you give him a curious look. “And I’m sorry your father moved it up without telling you, so I won’t make it a spectacle for them.”

“Festus, no…” You tilt your head down as you feel the tears spring up in your eyes. This wasn’t how your father told you the whole engagement was planned, and it truly hurt how he defied your wishes of waiting a little longer for the proposal.

Festus handed you the ring and pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you let your tears fall onto his pressed suit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You let yourself cry in the embrace of Festus. Despite his normally irritating behavior, he was one of your closest friends — and you seriously needed some time to think about what your future would look like. After a few minutes, you cried all your tears and let Festus take you home. He offered a few words to your father before bidding you a ‘good night.’

That night — and the next few nights — you fiddled with the engagement ring adorning your finger while crying to sleep, begging the numbness to come back. You trapped yourself inside your bedroom, only letting Em enter and leave. You ate minimally and answered in short sentences. It was only when you realized you had to visit Phineas that you left your room.

“Miss Lovett, your father—“

“—Will not care what I do as long as I leave my room.” You stop walking, pausing your handmaid’s steps as well. “You and our driver may pick me up in about an hour or later.”

“Do you not want company, Miss?” She caught your arm before you entered the gym — an old, rundown one she might add. “This place doesn’t seem like anywhere you should be.”

You tilt your head and silently ask her to leave you alone. “Em, I’m simply meeting someone who can help me. Sejanus referred me to him.”

She reluctantly let go of your arm, frowning at your stubbornness. “We’ll pick you up in exactly one hour, do you understand?”

You nodded and pushed open the creaking door, wincing when it slammed shut. The inside of the gym was a surprise, considering the outside was old. Everything inside was new or slightly used. Many people were conversing while working out, making you wonder how exactly you were going to find Phineas. Luckily your panic was short-lived as he approached you first.

“Hey, you actually showed up.” He grinned, this time dusting chalk off his hands. “Welcome to the Capitol’s Gym.”

You pull an unamused smile, glancing back at your outfit and then back to what Phineas was wearing. “I feel like I’m underdressed here.”

“Don’t worry too much about that. I’ll just be testing what you know today anyway.” He guided you further into the gym and chuckled at how you gave everything a curious glimpse.

“Phineas—“

“Call me Finn. Every time someone says Phineas I feel like I’m getting lectured.” He tugged a black shirt on and took a swig of water.

You raise a brow but don’t question it, “Okay, Finn, what do you mean by ‘what I know?’ Sejanus didn’t really clarify what you would be doing to help me, per se.”

He gave you a toothy grin, “How well can you box?”

Safe to say you were in shock at the question.

For the next hour, Finn gave you a rundown of how your training every week was going to go. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, you would work with him on boxing techniques and basic self-discipline. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you would work on exercises with the different machines and items, still coached by Finn.

He also taught you the basic skills after you discussed your schedule. He taught you different stances, jabs, and tricks in the ring. Eventually, the exhaustion got to you, refusing to go through another round of Finn blocking your every jab.

“I didn’t need to know that about you.” You wipe the sweat off your brow, catching the bottled water from him.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while and you won’t do any of the talking, so here we are.” He shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “You’re not bad for a first-time boxer, you’ll get good within time.” Finn catches the shine of your engagement ring for the first time, a look of surprise taking over his face. “Did blondie propose to you?”

“What?” You stand up straight and harden your look at the male in front of you.

“You have a ring on your finger.” He points out the obvious, tilting his head to the side.

You frown at the observation, “It’s not— He and I broke up before graduation.” Finn dropped his jaw in shock before shutting it back up when you glared. “During the Hunger Games, my father concocted a deal with the Creeds. So I’m stuck with Festus.” You spin the ring on your finger, hating the feeling. “He’s not horrible, but I just wish my father would let me be for once.” You shrug, reaching for a necklace that was missing. “But everything is about the Lovett appearance.”

Two more weeks passed since that conversation and you finally had the reins of boxing. It was a way to mentally recover from the pain Coriolanus and your father left you with. You also got closer to Finn during those two weeks. It was easy to get along with him when you ignored all his nosy inquiries. You learned that he had multiple little jobs, intriguing you in the best way possible. This led to you explaining — to a very pouty Finn — why you had to leave your session with him earlier.

“Okay, but you wanted to come in today. I asked you a week ago about this.” Finn walked by your side as you slung your gym bag over your shoulder.

“Yes, I know that.” You avoid the questioning looks from bystanders in the gym. “But I haven’t visited Tigris in forever, and I have to visit or she’ll come to my house. Unannounced. Again.”

Finn raises his brow, “You say that like it’s a bad thing your ex’s cousin wants to visit you.”

“Ha ha.” You push the door open, wind rushing through the sundress that you had in handy. “I already called earlier to tell her we were going to bake together and talk about what’s happening—“

“You should totally bring some of those pastries over for me tomorrow, sweets.” He leaned against the brick wall, waving at your driver as they were suddenly well acquainted over the past few weeks.

You narrow your eyes at the male, getting a toothy grin back. “Whatever, Finn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a wave as you drove away toward the Snows’ new place. Tigris said that she would meet you at the front of the building, which caused you to delve into more confusion. Although you knew about their situation, you didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. According to the gossip being spread amongst the Capitol Elites, they were sent to live with a man named Pluribus, who apparently also knew about their poverty.

Even after all these years with the Snows, you still knew nothing much about that.

Your mind pretty much consisted of the same thoughts until — what you assumed was since Tigris was standing outside — their new place came into view. You traded your gym bag for your bag of goodies and ingredients for baking, thanking your driver before stepping out. Immediately, Tigris walked over to help you, giving you a small smile.

“I hope you’re up to make chocolate muffins. Grandma’am has been dying to have some.” The blonde guided you over to their flat, almost causing you to go into cardiac arrest when you saw the place. Even their old penthouse was better than this place.

For once, you and Coriolanus were alone in the Snow penthouse. Tigris was out for work late and Grandma’am was tending to her rooftop garden, which could take hours; not that the both of you were complaining. At first, you and Coriolanus were making a batch of cookies for his family. But it slowly became apparent that you both couldn’t focus on that task. Simply because Coriolanus was absolutely smitten with you.

You grinned into the kiss when Coriolanus pulled you up onto the wooden table, letting him slot himself in between your legs.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He squeezed your hip before nipping your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. “I don’t think I say that enough.”

You pull apart from him, slightly tugging at his blonde locks to get him to listen. “You say it a lot more than you think you do, Coryo.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He plants kisses on your neck, sucking softly on your sensitive spot — one he found a while ago and always used it against you.

You quietly shifted yourself against him, doing your best to stay still and hushed. “Coryo…”

“Mm?” He trailed his kisses lower, making you feel like your skin was on fire.

“I don’t think we should do this right now— Coriolanus!” You grip onto his back as—

“Coryo?” Tigris called out from the hall before freezing and whipping back around. “Never mind!”

You flush red at Tigris’ comment, quickly jumping off the creaking table and steadying yourself in Coriolanus’ arms. He quickly adjusted himself while you fixed his and your outfit.

“Beautiful—“

“Not a word.” You put a finger up to silence him, washing the dishes you used to make the cookies.

It was clear after that incident that you and Coriolanus were no longer allowed to be home alone anymore; Even if Grandma’am constantly questioned why.

You suddenly registered Grandma’am’s voice, causing you to blush at the memory that reappeared. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

The older woman shook her head, “You might have to ask Tigris about that mixture, sweetheart. I think she forgot a step in the muffin recipe.”

Glancing down at the bowl in your hands, you scrunch your nose at the lumps — thanking Grandma’am before carrying it over to where Tigris went to grab something.

“Tigris? I need your help with something. I don’t think I made this the right way.” You frown at the mixing bowl in your arms and show her. The lumps were following the rest of the batter down, making you grimace. When she didn’t answer, you glanced up at her, freezing when you met a pair of blue eyes that made your knees weak. You spun the ring on your finger, “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t know—“

“It’s just Coryo.” She gave you a sad smile, nodding when her cousin spoke to her.

You purse your lips and wander back into the kitchen, arms tighter around the mixing bowl. Not what you were expecting when you visited the Snow residence.

To say you came running to Finn’s place a week after your visit with no rhyme or reason was a lie. Where else could you go? You knew he was up at this hour, but he would question your motives for appearing at his house with no other explanation except for your needing to let off some steam.

“You come here in the middle of the night to what? Just brush up on some skills?” Finn blocked your punches, small grunts leaving his mouth at your intensity.

“Sure.” You sucker punch him in the stomach, causing him to recoil. All in all, you did come to polish up certain points in your boxing classes, but you couldn’t bear the weight of the news you received earlier — plus your small interaction with Coriolanus.

“A letter for you, Miss.” Em handed you the cream envelope, making you smile.

You thought Sejanus forgot about writing to you after weeks of zero contact. Swiftly, you peel the wax seal off and unfold the letter, eyes dragging across the perfect cursive.

That wasn’t Sejanus’ handwriting. You froze in horror at the last few sentences, your heart hammering against your chest. Sejanus was gone? No, he was fine when he last mailed you… Despite that being weeks ago. There was no way he was gone and taken away from the world.

“Miss?” Em called out to you, watching silent tears fall.

“Hey!” Phineas snapped his fingers in front of your dazed gaze. “What happened?”

“Sejanus is dead.” You choke out, finally letting the exhaustion and pain take over your body. You collapsed in his arms, sobs echoing through the gym. Gone was the numbness you succumbed to. The pain engulfs you like waves crashing down onto the sandy shoreline.

He stroked your hair — doing his best to soothe you. “I know, I know… You’ll be fine.” Finn continued to murmur small reassurances toward you, every so often checking in to make sure you were well enough to move up and out of the rink.

Eventually, you calmed down enough to stop the immense sobbing. But it didn’t stop the need for mourning and finding out the truth about Sejanus’ death.

“Hey, did we find information on the death?” You interrupt Finn’s rant about the bakery refusing him to give food out to the homeless and hungry.

He hummed, handing you the notebook. “According to some District Twelve officers, he was involved with rebels who then betrayed him to get back to the Capitol. But these could just be rumors, there’s no confirmation about anything.”

You quickly scan through the data Finn collected from the different sources, noting that they all had one thing in common. However, one officer reported something different. “Well we knew Sejanus was a rebel already, but what’s this about a peacekeeper betraying him and turning him into the Capitol authorities?”

Finn glanced at the page you were pointing at before shrugging, “That’s from a guy who’s always drunk during the weekends. Not a reliable source.”

“Then why write it?” You cock your head to the side with a lopsided grin.

“To make my job seem important, sweets.” He snatched the book from your hands and tossed it on the desk. “Besides, we have more pressing matters about this plan of yours now.”

“Are we confirming it was a rebel betrayal then?”

“Based on the information? Yes.”

Tapping your fingers on the cup of your hot chocolate, you bit your lip in thought. What did Finn say about the next rebel collision…? You shook your head and continued to write what your plans were for the rest of the week. You had to stop by the orphanage, visit the modiste for your dress fitting, and—

“Snow.” A barista called out in the cafe, causing you to snap your head up. Of course, you Tigris was here. She frequently visited this cafe with you this summer, so you scanned the store but ended up locking eyes with the only other Snow physically capable of making their way over to the cafe.

You watched his eyes flit down to your hand, causing you to tuck your hand underneath your planner and focus back on your planner.

When the fuck did Coriolanus come back from peacekeeping?

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—

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)

A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years. Featuring secret shagging, to friends, to the 'how is it fair for someone to say your name like that' sort of friends, to, finally, someone you could call a home.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

i’m not for sure if you’re still taking request - if not feel completely free to delete! (i also BARELY send in requests because i get so nervous to do so , so i apologize if this is all over the place 😭)

but, i’ve been CONSTANTLY thinking/writing about ex content.

what about a ex-fiancé!tangerine where their BOTH still in love with one another but he’s just too nervous to actually go through with marriage? hes just nervous because marrying reader means she married his job as well :(

and he doesn’t want her to get hurt in the end.

hii honey!! l get so nervous too omg, but don’t worry about it. love this sm argh! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

TWELVE DAYS.

tangerine x fem!reader — angst? hopeful ending

word count. 544

Broken commitments hurt. It doesn’t matter how big or small, or meaningful or pointless they are. It hurts every time.

In your scenario, a case of a failed engagement. Tangerine –your ex-fiance, your now question mark– had proposed almost a month ago. It was perfect, the location, the thought, the effort - everything about it was perfect. It was as if you had done it yourself, like you had planned and chosen it to suit all of your likes. 

But that excitement only lasted for so long before Tangerine got cold feet. He had pulled you aside, a mere twelve days into engagement to talk things over. 

If you were to be killed because you were simply married to him, or if someone were to find you through him, and make him pay for all the nasty crimes he has committed - he would never forgive himself. He knew way too many people in his line of work who have experienced that same fate - losing a wife because of the job. He may never move on if that were you. So to him, the only way to keep you safe, was to make sure your names can never be connected. 

But he could never tell you that because he knew you were far too stubborn to let that be it, to let that come between marriage, so he told you a lie. In layman's terms, he made a mistake - telling you he’s not ready to get married yet. 

Shortly after, you struggled to find a reason to stick around. You would catch yourself looking at your left hand, staring at your now empty ring finger. Sometimes, it was like you could still see it, feel the giant gem on your finger - but they were all phantom. The ring was gone, so was the engagement, and the solid foundation of your relationship.

Being around him was too much, it was far too hard to see him now knowing all of what he thinks of marriage. Did he lie at the beginning? Did he not mean it when he claimed to marry you on the beach of your fourth date? These were all questions that whirled around in your brain, all thoughts and doubts wreaking havoc on your mind.

You wanted some time apart, but you didn’t want to actually end things. And though nothing has been the same since he called off the engagement, you can’t help but want him in your life. He had practically shattered your heart and dreams, but still. You loved him, and you knew he loved you. Even if he acted like a coward.

He knew he had hurt you and he would never forgive himself for that. He wanted to marry you, but that would ultimately mean you marrying his job too. And he can’t have that. Even if he were to quit, people would still know his name, know the things he has done. 

And while you were away on a solo holiday to forget about the horrors of the last month, he had some time to pull some strings - to cash in some favours. 

He will marry you, even if that means exhausting every route to do so safely. He’s not going to let you get away so easily.

idk if I like this? too late now lol

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura is the youngest of team 7

Let’s talk about a hot topic rn in regards to Sakura… the age order of the rookies. Tbh, I don’t think it’s a big deal but I’m tired seeing misinformation going around.

It’s been the common belief for many years that Sakura is the oldest member of team 7 because of the thought that the Naruto universe follows the American school system for age. However, if we use the Japanese school system then she would be the youngest of her entire graduating class.

What is used by many to back that Sakura is older is the information derived from the databook 4 character files. In those entries it follows that Shino is the oldest and Hinata is the youngest of the rookies. Sakura is said to be 17 during the war and Naruto (as we all know) turned 17 at the end of the war. This would indicate a following of the American school system for the ages.

However, databook 1 goes against this information. In this databook, it takes place in the middle of the chunin exams. For the character files it states that all of the rookies graduated at the age of 12 and that all of them are still 12 while under examination for promotion to chunin. Why does this matter? The only way for this to be possible is if it follows the Japanese school system and let me explain why.

In chapter 11 of the Naruto manga, kakashi states that ���it’s springtime” during the Land of Waves arc. This whole arc lasts about a month. Not long after they return to the village (about a week) the teams enter into the chunin exam, which, according to Hiruzen in chapter 34, starts on July 1st. In Japan, spring is from March to May and graduation takes place from mid to late March. Furthermore, the Japanese school system works where children with birthdays from April to March of the following year are placed in the same class. This lines up perfectly with the information here as if they graduate in late March then the rookies would be 12 when becoming genin and for the exam.

Now, you might say “well why should we trust one databook over the other?” Well, if you look at databook 2 and 3 it still follows that all of the rookies graduated at the age of 12, which follows what was said in the first databook. The entire timeline of Naruto is very difficult to follow without looking to extreme detail (which I don’t have time or care for). However, the wave arc being in spring is an easy find and sets up the storyline for it to follow the Japanese school system/year.

Now, lets take a look at the novels. We know that The Last took place when Naruto and Hinata were 19; however, no information was given about Sakura's exact age at the time. On the other hand, Gaara Hiden explicitly states multiple times that Gaara is 20 years old during the novel, which is why they are pushing for his marriage in addition to the fact the Temari and Shikamaru and engaged. That later part is important. Gaara is apart of the same graduation year as the rest of the rookies and his birthday takes place in January, which makes him one of the disputed ages. There is a scene in the novel where Gaara calls Shikamaru his "elder brother" on page 122 since he is his soon to be brother-in-law. On that same page, Shikamaru also refers to Gaara as his "troublesome little brother." Now, Shikamaru is born in September, which makes his age confirmed to being in accordance to what we already believe, yet Gaara claims that he is the older one. This follows that Gaara, and thus Shino and Sakura, were born the following year like what is seen in the Japanese school system.

Notice this: Gaara Hiden is written by Ukyō Kodachi, who is one of Kishimoto's former assistants while working on Naruto. He is also the original writer of Boruto until it got taken over by Ikemoto. None of the other novels in the Hiden series are written by him or another assistant. Instead, the rest are by various Japanese authors who are working on Naruto for the first time. Why is this important? Kodachi is the most reputable source when it comes to the information we have gotten from the Hiden novels and he says that Shikamaru is older than Gaara.

Furthermore, let's look at the official timeline of the Hiden novel series, which was released by Shonen Jump. Shikamaru's novel is set before The Last, and in such novel it is said that he is 19 years old at the time. Very shortly after (same time section), The Last takes place and as discussed earlier, Naruto and Hinata are said by Kishimoto in interviews (and based off of Shikamaru's age) to be 19 as well. Then there is a few months break to where Sakura Hiden occurs. It is stated multiple times throughout the novel that it's spring; however, Sakura's age is never discussed. Nonetheless, it is said by Kakashi that Naruto and Hinata are "going to be married soon." From Naruto Mobile, it is said that they officially got married on May 8th, which would be the month that Konoha Hiden would occur.

Note: In the novel of Konoha Hiden (brief ceremony and events leading up to the wedding), there is no mention of cherry blossoms like is seen in the anime and some official art. However, it can be disputed that the wedding took place in spring, which does not affect the timeline I have put forth below.

Akatsuki Hiden, which Sasuke's portion is in the same time period as Gaara Hiden, mentions that flowers are in full bloom. This indicates that it takes place in springtime as that is when such an event occurs. Meaning, it must be the year following Sakura Hiden in order for this to be possible since Gaara Hiden and Akatsuki Hiden are set to take place an unspecified number of months after Naruto's wedding (in summer/spring).

Note: Sasuke's age is not mentioned in either Akatsuki Hiden or Sasuke Shinden, which occur at similar times.

Now, this would indicate that Gaara Hiden takes place a little over a year after The Last. This would mean that Naruto, Hinata, and Shikamaru are 20 at this time and Gaara would be newly of that age as well. This, once again, indicates that Naruto follows that Japanese system for the ages according to these timelines and still works with the ages in Boruto as those indicate that the next generation wasn't born until the rookies were about 21 years old.

Even with all of this being said, I have seen plenty of people argue that “Naruto doesn’t take place in Japan and therefore doesn’t follow their school year.” Now let me ask, why would Kishimoto, a Japanese man who has used lots of Japanese history and folklore in his series and even said much of the scenery was based on Okayama (which is in Japan), not use the Japanese school year? Why would he use the American system instead? It makes no sense. The only logical conclusion is that Naruto follows the Japanese system and that databook 4 ages were a mistake.

Kishimoto himself has never officially come out to state the age order and there are no direct references of it in the manga. The only thing absolutely certain is that Sasuke is older than Naruto, which we all know and doesn’t help at all. Now, there is one scene in chapter 18 that could give us a clue that Sakura is the youngest, but it’s all perspective imo. Kakashi calls Sakura “our young lady,” which although doesn’t confirm anything, it does indicate or imply that she is the youngest of the team. Otherwise there would be no reason for kakashi to point that out instead of just calling her “our lady.”

Anyway, what I saw rekindle this debate was the apology that Shueisha released regarding some official Naruto merchandise that came out back in 2023. In this apology they admitted to getting the ages of Sakura and Gaara during the war arc wrong and changed the info cards of the characters from 17 to 16. In addition, Sakura's character description (for the war) in one of the Naruto videogames (Borutage) also places her at the age of 16 during this arc. Many fans say that these technically aren't "official" sources to confirm her age, but aside from the databooks, which contradict themselves, these are the only other sources of her age in the war. It's also something to consider that Shueisha went out of their way to make a public apology on the matter and corrected themselves. The databooks have plenty of mistakes, so if they apologized for one mistake then they would have to do it for all. Meaning, it's best if they don't.

Furthermore, you must note that Shueisha is the publisher that Shonen Jump and obviously Naruto are under. This is the official copyright holder of the series coming out saying that Sakura is the youngest.

Also, I have seen some fans say that this illustration was released by shonen jump, but I haven’t found any proof of that being the case. Nonetheless, I will still place it below as it provides a visual for the birth order and you can use your own discretion if you think it’s official.

Anyway, that's my two cents on the matter of age order. Cheers!

[agaypanic]

Hey :) I was wondering if since it’s a leap year you would maybe write a oneshot or blurb or smth with James Maguire x reader (maybe like Quinn!reader from your series??) where she proposes on the 29th of February bc it’s a tradition that comes from Ireland?? I just think it would be so cute bc he just totally wouldn’t see it coming and I’ve never seen anyone do it in a fic before

Leap Day (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You, the girls, and James are now well into your twenties. Life is perfect, except for one little thing that’s been on your mind. After taking with your friends about it, you figure you should take matters into your own hands.

A/N: won’t put it on my series masterlist, but this could be seen as an epilogue of sorts to the fella series (even tho it’s not finished yet lol) but obvi it can be read as its own thing. Also im american so sorry for any terminology and such i get wrong. reader, james, and the girls are obvi aged up

***

If you had told your younger self that you and your friends ended up staying in Derry after finishing school, she would’ve thought you lost your mind. All she thought about was graduating and leaving home, traveling the world, and escaping her pain-in-the-ass sister Erin and somewhat crazy family.

But if she saw the life you had now, she’d probably understand. Because you had everything you truly wanted.

You had a nice little job close to your flat where you managed a bookstore. It was a quaint shop that became a frequent stop for some of the local teenagers. Erin also stopped by every now and then to boast about what she had already read.

When you weren’t working, you were with your friends. You were a bit more tame than you were in your adolescence, but that all usually went out the window when Michelle got a drink or two in her. Which happened often.

But the best part of your day was when you’d go home to see your boyfriend of many years, the love of your life, James Maguire.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him, anyway?” Michelle asked as she messily poured everyone a glass of wine. Every now and then, you and the girls got together for a night to get drunk and catch each other up on anything that happened since the last time you’d gotten together. For some reason, you and James were a bit of a hot topic tonight.

“What d’ya mean, Michelle? You know what’s going on with us.” You laughed, taking your wine glass from her.

“I mean, when are the two of you getting hitched? Has he even popped the question to ya?”

“Believe me, Michelle, you’d all be the first to know if we got engaged.” You said a bit glumly, downing your drink and waving your glass around for Michelle’s attention to fill it again.

“He still hasn’t asked you?” Clare asked with an incredulous look. From the start, she had been a big supporter of your and James’ relationship. If it was up to her, you’d probably have a few kids and a house in the countryside by now. “You’ve been going out since we were sixteen! And you just turned twenty-five a few months ago, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You responded, popping the ‘p.’ “Nine years and no ring.” You held your bare hand up to prove your point. “But I don’t mind too much. As long as we’re together, that’s really what matters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Clare cooed.

“It’s shit.” Michelle countered.

“Michelle’s right, Y/n,” Erin said, grabbing a crisp from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You’ve been waiting for James to propose since we finished at Our Lady Immaculate; admit it.”

“Have not!” You laughed at the absurdity of your sister’s sentence, but the looks everyone gave you made it die down. “Okay, maybe a little. But not seriously! It was just like a dream, you know? Like Erin thinking she’ll get published or Granda thinking Ma will actually divorce Daddy.” 

Everyone giggled, except for Erin, who was grumbling about your little jab.

“Be serious, Y/n!” Clare laughed, patting your hand. “You’ve been waiting for him to ask for a long while.”

You looked down at your glass, swirling the wine around with a sigh. 

“Maybe a bit.” You answered quietly. It hadn’t really nagged at you too much until recently. After all, you had been together for almost a decade, and everyone else around you seemed to be getting engaged or married. You loved James; truly, you did. But it felt like you were missing out a little. “But I’m fine with waiting.”

“The question is, Y/n, how long are you gonna have to wait until he actually does it?” Erin asked, leaning forward to stare at you. You shrugged, not really knowing the answer and not really wanting to respond.

“You might as well ask him, Y/n!” Your cousin Orla said with a grin. She was always an optimist. “He might just be scared you’ll say no!”

“You know, now that you say it, that’s probably why he hasn’t asked yet,” Michelle said, taking a sip from her wine glass that had been filled more graciously than anyone else’s. “After all, James is a pussy.”

“Don’t call my fella a pussy, Michelle!” You reprimanded, yet you still laughed along with everyone else.

“I can call my cousin what I want. And the fact is that he’s a pussy!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, really,” Clare said when everyone’s chuckles had died down. She gasped. “This is a leap year! You could ask him on the twenty-ninth!”

“That’s next week, Clare.” You said a bit nervously. Of course, you’d marry James in a heartbeat. But the thought of proposing, especially so soon, made you a bit sick to the stomach. Now you realize why James probably hasn’t asked you yet.

“It’s either next week or another four years, Y/n,” Michelle said with a teasing smile.

You gulped, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. As you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t really a bad idea. Sure, you had less than an ideal amount of time to plan everything out. But you could probably get something small but nice together.

“Okay… Who’s going ring shopping with me?” The girls squealed at your question, getting up to surround you in a drunken group hug.

***

It was the twenty-ninth, and you were a nervous wreck. The ring weighed heavy in your pocket as you paced around your dining room. Dinner was sitting waiting on the table, and you were playing your little speech of love over and over in your head. All you needed was James, who should be home soon. But as the minutes ticked by, you wished the clock would freeze so you could have more time to prepare for this.

“Darling, I’m home!” James called out as he opened the door, and you realized you were out of time. You skipped out to the front hall to greet your boyfriend.

“Hi, Jamie.” You cooed, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping away so he could hang up his coat. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late, needed to finish some things at the office.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, hun.” You waved your hands, both to dismiss his unneeded apology and to get rid of some nervous energy.

James gave you a quick peck before walking off to the bedroom to change, leaving you to overthink a bit more. You wanted tonight to be perfect. James deserved nothing less than that.

To pass the time, you grabbed a candle and placed it in the middle of the small table, finding a lighter to light the wick.

“It’s so nice to be home,” James murmured as he walked over to you, arms slinking around you to pull you close to his chest. He buried his face into your neck, leaving a kiss or two before taking a deep breath. “Dinner smells good.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. The two of you sat down and started putting food on your plates.

You talked about anything and everything, James leading most of the conversation, which you were grateful for. You felt that if you had to talk too much, you’d either stutter too much or end up spoiling your surprise. James held your hand most of the time, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as he talked about something amusing that happened at work.

Eventually, your plates were clear and your cups were empty. James was finishing up a story about something a few of his lads had done while they were all watching some sports game you didn’t know much about. You knew that now was your time.

“Jamie?” He hummed, perking up at the sound of his name. 

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.” You didn’t really know how else to start.

“I love you, too, N/n,” James said, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

You took a deep breath, about to give the speech that you’d been preparing in your head.

“I’ve known that you were the one for me since we were fifth years. Probably since I first saw you at the bus stop. That’s probably crazy, knowing something like that so early and so young… But it’s true.” You laughed, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “These have been the best years of my life, being with you. And it might be a bit selfish of me, but I want more of them.”

“Y/n…” James whispered, tilting his head. “What are you saying, darling?”

“We have a bit of a tradition here.” You say, wiggling your hand from James’ grasp and standing up. “Ladies’ Privilege, Bachelor’s Day, whatever you fancy calling it. Where on Leap Day, girls can propose to their fella.” You stuck your hand in your pocket, fiddling with the ring. “And seeing how it’s Leap Day now, and I have a ring and all, I guess there’s just one last thing to ask.”

James’ expression turned even more stunned when you got down on one knee, now holding the silver band up in front of him. 

“Will you marry me, Jamie?”

In the few seconds of silence after that question, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. He looked at you stunned, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind. How long would you have to kneel on the ground for him to give you an answer?

But then he smiled brightly, and all your worry slipped away.

“Of course, I’ll marry you!” James slipped out of his chair to join you on the floor and grabbed your face, giving you a long and deep kiss. You gripped his curls in your free hand, the other resting on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he let out an airy laugh. “I never thought I’d be the one being proposed to.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You giggled with him as you slipped the band onto his ring finger. “Happy Leap Day.”

“Happy Leap Day, indeed,” James said before kissing you again.

[biaonww]

"11:58 pm" reo mikage based • angst with... (hehe yall can guess for this one)

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

five years together, huh?

it was your anniversary today, with reo. you gave so much effort to get ready, setting the table, and cooking all his favorite foods. 

but no, he did not come. 

instead of him coming home, to be with you, his fiancè — there was a picture of him circulating on twitter, that he was caught holding another woman’s hand in public.

after that seeing that, you grip your phone tightly. all teary eyed, looking at the ring he bought you. i mean, what happened to loyalty? to trust? you have been here with him with all his hardships — his family, soccer, hell. even his relation with nagi. 

it just made you want to rot inside. a five year relation, just to lose this after knowing some random lady at a party?

but then again, what were you to do? he was rich, of course everyone would want him. but you never considered loving his wealth, you loved him. his whole entire being, you have loved devotedly. 

you decide to get up, packing your things in some random duffel bag. but you get interrupted by the sound of the door — it was reo. 

“it’s 11:58 pm.”

“you said you’d come home by 6.”

“love, let me explain—“

you turn to look at him, sobbing.

“explain?! explain that you were cheating on me?!”

“yes, it may be that. but you know i love you!”

“love me? really? but you chose to hold some random woman’s hand, than going home to celebrate our anniversary?!”

“you can have this stupid ring back. give it to her instead, since that’s what you want to lose our relation to.”

“don’t you dare remove that ring y/n.”

you look at him, daringly removing the engagement ring. 

“why not? i’m still here, but you aren’t explaining anything. so that does mean our relation isn’t important to yo-“

“no, it is! i may have spend one night with her, because i was stressed with work— the corporation. okay?!”

“then why won’t you tell me?! i’m here for you! you know that, and i always have been!”

“i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d leave. and it feels like words are stuck in my throat.”

“but that— that’s no excuse to cheat.”

you look at reo, a sobbing mess. 

“i know that.”

he says in a soft tone, and slowly goes towards you, and wrap his arms around your waist. he lifts one of his hands to your face, wiping your tears. he always thought you looked so beautiful, but not in this way. especially since he was the one that hurt you.

the one that caused you to cry. 

“please, forgive me. give me one more chance to prove myself to you. i’ll work on myself, and if i mess up, you can cut all ties with me.”

you nod hesitantly, crying on his shoulder while hugging him tightly. 

surprisingly, he did change. it may have took you some time to let him gain your trust again, but it was worth it. 

he expressed himself more, took you out on dates more like you deserved to, comforted and loved you in the right way. 

sure, there were still some ups and downs in your relation. 

but after standing with him in the alter alongside the priest right now, and him looking at you as if he adored you in so many ways…

you knew it wasn’t important to think about in that moment. 

because no human being is perfect. and also because he is the one you love. the man you envision your whole life with, the one you will be with til death do you two apart. 

“i do. i want him to be my husband.”

— fin.

alt ending for the angst lovers <3 three months past… but he still never goes back to home early. 

there was a recent article posted exactly on 9:26 pm, that the woman he met a few months ago had a ring on her finger. similiar to the engagement ring you and reo have. 

a coincidence? no. you knew it wasn’t. 

you were just deluding yourself, because you wanted to cling onto this sick love you and him have. 

so you decide to pack your things, and leave that same night you found out. 

because a cheater, is always an cheater, right?

reo comes home to the penthouse he and you owned. it lost all the warmth it had. the smell of your perfume wasn’t present anymore, your fluffy slippers you used wasn’t present as well. 

all your things was gone. your pictures with him were missing—and more.

and the promise ring he gave to you was placed on the dining table. it still had that same bling it had,

but it always seemed to shine more when you wore it.

… but he knew. that he was too late. because he knew you’d never come back to him. 

once a fragile gem breaks, it can never be glued back together.

— fin.

i made a special ending for this !! so i hope it's good <3 reblogs, follows and likes are very appreciated :) rin fic might come out tmr!! i think, if i don't get busy that is!!

[ts1mp0ne]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kylian Mbappe x reader

.𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which kylian is jealous of a certain someone that has been trying to get with his girlfriend

.𝑪𝑾: angst, fluff at the end

.𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: heyyy guys, I am so sorry this request was literally from months ago I just didn’t know what to write😭, im trying to clear up my request list and yea hope you like it, based on that request on top

We had just arrived at Michael Rubin’s annual party for the 4th of July, Kylian, Brice and me, we were approached by many celebrities since we don’t usually stay in the states it’s unusual to see us there, and most of the people here are ones we interacted once or twice online.

Recently, there had been some rumours going around that me and ( NBA player) had been going out in secret, which I think it’s stupid since I’ve been with Kylian the whole time since we arrived in Miami

But all of this started when (NBA player) said on an interview that he had a crush on me and that if I gave him a chance he would make me the happiest woman

This was very childish, since me and Kylian had been together since we were 16 and he had been there for me since the beginning and vice versa

We were currently near the drinks, I was talking to Kendall Jenner and other girls and Kylian was talking to Kevin Heart and the others, when (NBA player) approached me and the girls and started talking to me

I could see that he was trying to flirt but I was shutting down any advances he was making at me, for obvious reasons, im happily taken

I could see Brice taping Kylian on the shoulder and pointing at me, I could see that he was mad, then we made eye contact, he could see that I was uncomfortable

I think (NBA player) sensed that I wasn’t listening to him anymore, so then he stared to where I was looking and saw Kylian glaring at him “let’s go somewhere more private ma” he said

I just looked at him dumbfounded and said “are you crazy, can’t you see that I have a bf, who tf do you think I am” then I tried to leave but he grabbed my hand “cmon ma I can make you more famous than that boy toy of yours”

From a distance I could see Kylian approaching “is there something wrong amour?” He asked but he obviously knew the answer to that “no bro we were just-“ “I wasn’t talking to you now was I?” He asked rhetorically with an arched brow, he was getting pissed

“Everything is okay Kyky don’t worry, (NBA player) was just leaving, weren’t you” I said with a smile that said, ‘if you don’t get out of here noww, my bf is going to beat your ass’ he got what I meant and left without speaking another word

After we saw that he was very far, Kylian pulled me in for a kiss that didn’t last long bcs the girls started teasing us, to which we just laughed and decided to go somewhere more private

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but you look três belle” he said once we reached a place near the pool, he was staring down at me, admiring every inch of my face, and I won’t lie, I as doing the same exact thing

“You have said it, multiple times amor, but I don’t mind hearing it again” I said and pecked his lips “Je t’aime mon coeur” I said and he smiled, that smile of his that makes everyone else around him smile too

“Je t’aime mon Princesse” he said and hugged me “I know you were jealous back there” he looked at me and then just scoffed letting himself go off me “no Kylian I thought it was cute, though you have nothing to worry about because the only person I love is you” I said while laughing

He just side eyed me and I started laughing even more, this time he was laughing with me too, then we calmed down and he said “I know, I trust you, it’s them I don’t trust, if I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have given you that ring that you so much deserve” he said raising my left hand to his lips and kissing the engagement ring he gave me at the beginning of the year

I smiled looking down at the ring “I still can’t believe we’re engaged, I mean took you long enough, but the timing was perfect” I still remember that day it was right after New Year’s Eve, our families and friends there, everything was perfect

Who would’ve thought that I’d end up with such a wonderful man…. me, I thought that

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 11: Collateral Damage

Words: 5.8k

Summary: It's been a month since your breakup with Carmy and Syd wouldn't ask for your help unless they were absolutely slammed.

a/n: 1 more chapter + epilogue to go and I don't know what to do with myselffff!!!!

Thank you for sticking around thus far and commenting is always appreciated!

Heartbreak is a funny little thing. You can walk a delicate line all your life to avoid feeling it, but one way or another it’ll find you. It’s the eternal debate: To avoid all and spare yourself from hurt, but live a life of emptiness and quiet; or to welcome the pain like an old friend, at peace and knowing you never stopped trying. Everyone chooses a side at some point, but you’re never really spared from it. 

You’ve always hated the part of you that feels too deeply. The one that created stories out of strangers, wonder struck by microseconds of eye contact, then shattered when they step off the train. The one that no matter how many times was dolefully blown into the ground, it still believes in good grace and  happy endings.

“So yeah… That’s basically it since the last time I saw you.” You say, twirling the small ring with the aquamarine stone that you had stopped wearing long ago. You look up to the woman sitting across from you and ask “What? You asked me how I was.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a two hour monologue.”

“Well what did you expect? Haven’t seen you in months, I needed to vent…” You fight back.

You can hear the soft scribbles of her pen for a couple minutes and you make yourself comfortable against the soft pillows that fill up most of her couch.

“So, how long has it been?” She speaks again.

“Bout a month…” You sigh.

“And have either of you tried reaching out?”

“No, I-” You take a breath and ponder over the question, the single unanswered text weighing heavy on your phone. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Besides, I’ve been too busy with my paintings and helping out with the auction. I don’t really have time for… anything else. I-I guess he’s been busy too.” 

“But you still know what he’s up to?” She asks with raised brows.

You shrug with a single shoulder and chew at your thumbnail with slight nerves. “Syd talks about work sometimes, when we go out. But I think she kinda feels guilty for bringing him up. I told her it’s fine.” The woman looks at you skeptically through the small circular glasses. “I’m fine.” You half lie. “I am, it's just… The auction is this weekend and they’re catering so… I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel…”

“Because you’ll see him again?”

“...Yeah.”

The woman calls your name again and you rip your eyes from the ring on your finger, heavy inside your own head to hear her question.

“So, is your set finished?” She asks to change the conversation.

“Mhm. It only took me a couple weeks to finish but -” Your smile curls slowly at the edge of your lips. “I'm really proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear.” She whispers with a genuine smile. “You know, heartbreak can also be a beautiful thing. It’s painful, yes, but it also gives a vulnerability we don’t regularly allow ourselves. It lets us create wonderful things. It’s all part of the human experience. It truly is nice to know you’re doing better, even after going MIA for months.” She says with a practiced tone mothers use to scold you.

She schedules you in for the next month and you promise to not bail this time, then walking out the office with your bag over your shoulder and a lightweight heart. The prospect of seeing him at the auction is still heavy on your mind as you make your way to the train station and the simple thought fills your chest like a crisp breath of air. ‘He could just send Syd’ you think and you try to not engage too much with the idea in fear that it may sour your good mood.  Instead you focus on your steady steps and people watching, ‘whatever happens, happens.’ you mumble under your breath.

**********

Syd’s call had pulled you from the comfort of your home before the sun was even visible over the horizon. Her worried tone had you waking up instantly and darting frantically around your darkened room in search of anything that could shield you from the increasing cold, then out the door and in the dreaded direction of The Beef. 

It’s been a month since you last spoke with Carmy and even though in the grand scheme of time, it’s only a mere speck of dust, to you it had felt eternal. Small snippets blur together into one long strenuous day, piggy-backing off your grief and pushing your shoulders deeper into the ground. You had called him a few days after in hopes that you could talk things over, but it went straight to voicemail. So you left a text that you anxiously waited an answer for the following days. All of a sudden, one week turned into two, then three and before you knew it, a month had gone by without a response. You kept busy picking up most of the planning to avoid any crossing thought of him, only allowing yourself to break with your canvas in front and acrylics to spear. 

You had done enough to convince yourself you were fine, that even if he were to show up tomorrow and not send Syd on his behalf, you'd be fine. 

Fine. Fine. Fucking fine. 

Everything was fucking fine until this morning when Syd had called to ask for help at the restaurant. Richie had been arrested, the place was a mess and they were behind on prep for the event tomorrow because they were lacking hands. Protesting would only lose you time that they did not have, so in place of that you settle to ignore the treacherous wormhole vacuuming out the few remains of confidence you had saved for tomorrow as you wait for the train that’ll leave you on River North Station.

Twenty three minutes later, you're walking at a brisk pace through the streets with a thick knot for a stomach and a growing unease. You push through the door and stop in your tracks at the shock and disarray of the place.

“What the fuck? Ugh-” 

The potent smell of alcohol is the first thing that invades your nose, along with the stickiness of the floor the deeper you walk into the room. There’s solo cups scattered everywhere and half working Christmas lights hanging loosely over the walls. Some frames from the front wall lay broken, spewing shards of glass all around the tiles.

“Mi amor, qué sorpresa!” You hear Tina’s voice from behind the counter and you slowly walk towards her, the small pieces shattering under the weight of your boots.

She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Tina, what the hell happened in here?! It smells like the fuckin’ Hangover…”

“Ay baby, don’t even get me started with these knuckleheads-”

You take another woeful look around, then follow her inside as she recounts the little information Sydney gave them from the frantic phone call she had with Carmen. How they rented out The Beef for a bachelor’s and Richie had knocked out some drunk while defending Carmen’s ass. It’s strange to you, the pair’s relationship. How they were always ready to rip each other to pieces, but would jump to save the other without a second thought. They said they couldn’t stand one another, but you’re sure they’re something either can’t live without.

“So what, he’s in for aggravated assault?” You ask.

“Only if the guy wakes up.” Marcus answers with a broom in hand, sweeping away remnants of glitter and tinsel.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Could be 5 to 25 for accidental manslaughter…” Sweeps chimes in while carrying a full trash bag to the back.

Your throat closes up and behind your concern, you hear Marcus ask Sweeps how he knows so much about the matter. ‘Bro, I told you. I went to Harvard Law…’ ‘Oh yeah…’

You breathe in  deep while maintaining the possibility of his release still in your mind and you head to Syd’s side, pulling your hair up into a ponytail automatically. 

“Alright, brigade’s here. What d’you need?” You say after a quick hug hello.

“Guess you know more about it than I do…”

She’s flipping through the binder with all the recipes and images of the canapes they’d be serving, the one you helped Carmy assemble all those months back. Despite a few scribbles and notes at the foot of some recipes, it’s practically the same. You bend the corner lightly on the last page to find the miniature ‘C’ surrounded by purile hearts and your morning coffee grows knotty in your gut.

“Is he…” You try asking, but the sentence loses power half way through.

Syd seems to catch your drift. “No, no. He’s been down at the station since dawn.”

You nod absentmindedly with your eyes glued to the page. 

“Okay, um. Marcus left the sourdough for the tapas rising all night yesterday, so we have a good start on that-” Syd began and you pull all your attention to the task at hand. “Beef’s already bracing in the oven but it’ll take a couple more hours. You can start with the ginger- tangerine compote. That’ll go on the brie.” She says, handing you one of the blue aprons. 

“Alright, heard.” The words feel unnatural rolling off your tongue after being away from a kitchen for so long.

She leaves you in search of Fak, urging him to finish fixing the backed up sink in the Steward section. You drown out the bicker and hastily make your way into the walk-in, throwing the apron over your head and tying the back securely around your waist. It’s almost as if the familiar pressure unveils a dormant sensation and you soon find yourself navigating with ease through the skills you thought forgotten. The knife feels at home under your palm -heftier than a paint brush but still requires the same level of  concentration- as you separate the tangerine supremes and add them to the pot holding clarified butter, sugar and rosemary leaves. Everyone works in a rhythmic but comfortable silence, a stark difference from the frantic, unmeasured mess they seemed to thrive in when you still worked here. 

“Yo chef?” Marcus calls from your left. 

You lift your head to him while you finish peeling the ginger. “What's up?”

“Mind tasting this for me? It’s for the gig but somethin’ bout the filling don’t feel right…”

You nod and wipe your hands on your rag, then take a bite into the miniature stuffed doughnut that doesn’t seem bigger than an Oreo. The flavors are too thick to tell them apart but  the softness of the dough allows it to almost melt in your mouth. 

“The dough’s perfect-“ You say between bites, the compliment blooming over his face into a grin. “How bout a different filling though, there’s a lot going on and you can’t really enjoy the texture.”

“Right!? See, that’s what I was thinkin’. Got anything in mind?”

“Mmm, you could try a chai cream filling.”

“Just milk and cinnamon, then?”

“Yes and also no” You answer with a smile. “Try to steep some black tea in milk with cinnamon and ginger. Then instead of sugar, add honey to your crème and the chai milk. It should be a little bit more runny so when it cools it doesn’t get that jelly-like consistency from the egg.” You finish then turn back to peeling off the skin of the ginger with your spoon. 

Marcus is still standing beside you with a pleased smile. “You really know your stuff, huh? Thought you was burnt out.” and you lightly hit him over the arm with the back of your spoon. 

“Oh, I can totally smoke your ass baker boy..” You grin.

Before he can fight back, a sudden commotion by the entrance has you lifting your head above the second level of the table and searching for the noise. The slick handle of the spoon  almost slips past your hand when your eyes capture the image of two very sleep deprived Carmen and Richie walking through the staff door. You can see everyone showering them with attention, how Tina hugs Richie tight then smacks him hard over the head, but the loud ringing in your ears and the sudden rush of cold blood prevent you from moving any closer. Not that you’d want to anyway. You try to pull yourself together, wiping your clammy hands for the tenth time and watching them advance deeper into the room. Richie’s the first to spot you and true to his nature, he lets the whole room know that he’s seen you, with outstretched palms in your direction.

“Oh, shit! This a fuckin’ family reunion?!” His hand falls heavily over the crown of your head and you swat it away with a smack.

“How’s prison?” 

“Oh, y'know…free food, can’t complain.”

“D’you get yourself a bitch?” You tease.

“Yeah, brought ‘em home, actually-” He says pointing back to Carmy, causing the forming grin on your face to fall when you see he’s been watching you. You pull your eyes from him and back to your cutting board. “Oh right, my bad…”

You shake your head, mumbling a sharp ‘asshole’ through gritted teeth. Richie takes off to the back and you’re finally left at peace.

You fall into a pronounced balance of chopping and continuously stirring the compote, until it reaches the needed consistency and you pull it off the fire to cool. You check it off Syd’s thoroughly organized list and scroll down to find the next task, then make your way back into the walk-in. With a bowl resting on your hip, you pick out a few pears you’ll need, then hear the creak of the metal door open and you assume it’s Syd coming in to take a breather from the frenetic kitchen.

“Yo, I’m gonna start poaching the pears. You’re out of red wine but I can run to the corner store and try to flirt with the clerk to knock a few bucks off a bottle-”

The slick bowl almost slips from your grip when your eyes catch his. A chill slithers from your neck, down your spine and wraps around your knees, rendering them uselessly immobile as Carmy just stares you down through tired lids. The room grows uncomfortably smaller with the two of you locked inside and you're afraid that he can hear the irregular tempo in your quickening pulse. You wonder if the slight shock in his brows is due to not knowing you were in there. It only flashes for a second, then his features conceal behind a curtain of indifference, making your stand straighter.

“H-hey.” He says with a feign coolness as he wraps his own apron around his waist and moves deeper into the room, as if it’s the most natural thing to find you between the inventory of his restaurant.

You turn back to the shelf so he doesn’t notice the multiple quivery inhales it takes for your voice to sound somewhat even. “Syd asked me for help, that’s why I’m here I-”

“No- yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-” He cuts himself off and takes a breath that has your wavering stare slowly inching towards him. “Thank you…”

You finally turn to him, only holding his stare for a second, then give him a tight smile and wrap both arms securely around the bowl that wants to slip from your clammy palms. His lips part and you wait for anything else to leave his mouth, maybe a ‘How’ve you been?’ or a ‘Can we talk?’. But nothing does and you try to not let it sting as much as it normally does when you get your hopes up. You take a reluctant step towards the door, then another and another, only stopping when your name vibrates in the concealed room.

“Yeah…?” You turn with a full chest.

He holds an unopened bottle of wine in your direction, face blank. “Bottom left shelf.” He says, shrugging.

“Oh. Right.” You take it without meeting his stare so he doesn’t see the grief slapped across it and quickly push yourself out the space.

You spend the better part of half an hour peeling the thin skin off the pears and letting the simmering wine and spices fill the kitchen with a strong sweetness. Carmy’s presence looms around the room as he checks in with every station on their progress, but doesn’t stop with you. All you get is a soft ‘Behind’ and the tingling sensation of his touch on your lower back as he passes by. You don’t know if it’s on purpose or not, although it doesn't really matter to the breath that stops in your throat when he does it. ‘Just finish this and you can leave.’ you repeat to yourself. Though you know you won’t, at least not until they’re up to schedule, even if every second sharing the same space withers at your soul.

You do your best to focus on your task, only talking to Tina when she gently squeezes your forearm to ask if you're okay, because your brows are glued into that permanent scowl that only displays your irritation outward.

“Yeah I, um- just got a lot on my plate.” You tell her and try to not let it trigger the tears you’ve hoarded in the back of your throat.

“No te hará sentir mejor-” She whispers to your side. 

“-Probably not-”

“-pero él está igual de miserable que tú. Really baby, you should have a talk with him, y’know, straighten things out.”

“T, ni siquiera me ve a la cara…” You whisper back. “How am I supposed to straighten anything out if he won’t even look at me?”

“Ay, baby I know. But I’ve known that stubborn boy all his life and let me tell you, since he came back from Madison Square Park -or wherever the fuck-, he was all different and… bitchy. And it wasn’t ‘till you came along that he finally felt like the Carmy we all knew before… pues ya tu sabes.” She says in reference to his brother.

“You two are good for each other, but you’re both stubborn as hell… talk it out, okay? Don’t lose somethin’ good ‘cause you're stubborn.” Tina rubs your shoulder reassuringly then with a final smile. she turns yelling ‘Corner!’ and disappears behind the tall stands.

You swallow down the aching knot and distract yourself with the slippery fruit in your hands.

“Can I..?” You see his hands before hearing his voice, as he lightly places a white cutting board a few feet away from you. You eye the curves of discoloring letters above his knuckles, then force your stare back to your own working hands and shrug.

“Sure… your kitchen.”

He only nods, from your side view you see how his eyes linger on you for a few moments then fall back down. The air between you feels thick despite the music playing from the hoarse stereo and a light layer of conversation from the staff. There’s a heavy pressure over your chest that only seems to expand with every silent minute passing between you. 

Then Carmy clears his throat. “How’s-uhm- your set.. for the auction?” 

Confusion and irritation brew in synchronicity with your wine and you try to hide the annoyance his question brings you. He acts as if he’s just seen you the day before, as if things had ended with a friendly handshake and a mutual agreement, not with him breaking up with you and completely vanishing from your life.

“It’s fine.” You turn to the burners and stir the pot slowly to keep it from burning and also to avoid his heavy gaze.

You taste it to make sure the flavors are correct then turn back to finally finish peeling the last of your pears. Carmy stares at you like he wants to say something else, but just contemplates the seriousness of your features and the flow of your hands as you move the peeler in a frenzy. Each stroke grows closer to your skin and he just feels the need to warn you.

“Careful you’re gonna-”

“Mierda!” You hiss, dropping the handle immediately and cradling your palm under the injured one. “Hijo de puta!”

He’s by your side in a second, with his clean towel hovering under your hands and taking the fruit that you crushed involuntarily when the pain closed your fist. 

“It’s fine- I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding-”

“I said I’m fine!” You pry your hand hard enough to hear a slight pop from your wrist.

Carmy’s hands fall to his sides and you divert your gaze to the floor walking to the nearest sink to clean your wound. You hiss again when the warm water hits your palm and a gash at the bottom of it is finally visible. Fucking perfect. You scrub remnants of puree and blood off, until the water runs a light pink and you're relieved to see it won’t need stitches. A gauze and some tape will suffice, so you wrap it in some paper towels to avoid dripping and march to the small office where you find the kit. The quicker you move, the faster you’ll be out of the confined space that makes you feel like a vulnerable prey. But your fingers tremble from the light sting and the edge of the wrapper isn’t cooperating with your dull nails. Tiny droplets of blood pool in the center of your palm, the frustration grows too quickly and you slam the unopened gauze flat on the desk.

“Fuck!”

‘It’s fine, you’re fine.’ The voice in your head circles through the same phrase, pretending that the sudden proximity of him didn’t unearth something you have tried so hard to bury down for the last month. You thought you could be mature enough to ignore the crushing weight settling over you with every stare, but the wisps of frigid indifference that radiated off him wrapped a tightening noose around your neck and you weren’t sure how long you had until it finally killed you. 

A soft click pulls your attention from the crimson in your hand. Carmy stands with raised palms, inching slowly towards your intense glare, then reaches out a hand as if trying to help a wounded animal. Which in a way, you are and the joke forming in your mind about the bear helping a fox would be rather funny if you weren’t so immensely upset with him.

With a ragged sigh, you turn in the small space and stretch out your hand to him, eyes locking on a painting on the wall to evade his stare. You ignore the furor of goosebumps that invade your skin the second his touch is on you. Carmen’s hand holds you in the cocoon of his fist, thumb rubbing delicate circles beside the battered spot while he uses the paper towel to soak up all the blood. You reprimand your wayward beats for their reaction to his innocent touch and you have to constantly pull your wandering gaze from reaching the dangerous borders of his tightened jaw. His deep exhales fan the baby hairs resting at the bottom of your neck, his attention fixed on the small imperfection. His movements are slow, asking each muscle for permission to move the next, because having you this close after so long is a luxury he does not want to rush through, not if he’s never getting it again. 

Carmy understood your anger. He could feel it radiating off you in waves that bounced in the small space, but he also understood that he’s never had enough words to properly express the turmoil of everythingness swirling constantly inside his head. He wanted to let you know how hard it had been for him too. Confess the unhealthy amount of time he was spending at the restaurant- only going home to shower then leaving again- because he was afraid of the scent of your perfume and how it lingered on every breathable space in his home… apartment- not home- at least not since you had gone.

He focuses on swabbing the sanitizing wipe tenderly in hopes that his actions can transmit what he can’t say. The alcohol makes you hiss again and his eyes flicker to your frowned brows, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’.

He only lets go to tear open the gauze and some tape, then takes you in his grasp again to wrap your palm up safely. You expect him to let go once he’s done. To create as much needed space to fit the betrayal he portrayed the last time you saw him, this would only explain why he never called back. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t look up at you either. Your stares meet on the flesh where his thumb still brushes over the blood-stained pit, your chest raises in slow puffs and the uninjured hand grips tightly over the edge hitting behind you. This is all too familiar again, right down to the brewing anxiety trickling heat into your overworked veins. You can't help but to foolishly crawl your pupils over the navy blue of his apron, past the strained tendons of his neck, the sharpness of his nose and to the beautiful blue you had missed so much.

Neither of you notice how the space has reduced to mere inches between you until his eyes flicker to yours and every single speck is bright and visible for your admiration. He swallows down hard, the Adam's apple bouncing in his throat portrays his nerves openly to you. The last reasonable, minute voice in his head tells him to pull away, but the way you’re staring up at him has his body tilting in your direction instead. Eyes wide and glossy dance around the freckles dusting his cheeks, causing his hand to float from your wrist to the dip of your waist and his forehead finally falls against yours.

You gasp in softly when his fingers dig into the center of your spine while his nose brushes along yours longingly. You can feel his sultry exhales ghost over the curve of your parted lips with doubt still present in his movements.

“Carmy…” The voice is above a whisper and you’re not sure you even have the strength to utter the sentence that’s formed in your head.

Your voice seems to trigger something in him. His jaw hardens, his fingers bunch up your shirt in a light fist and just as quickly, his grip on you loses strength and his hand falls to rest beside your fisted one. Then a grave sigh parts his chest and he takes a painful step back, unwilling to lift his eyes from the ground.

It takes a minute for you to react, then the butterflies in your stomach turn to wasps swarming in dangerous circles, unable to fly out due to the knot blocking your throat. He’s eerily silent, eyes glued to the floor to ignore your fiery glare.

“Sorry, I…” 

You scoff and shake your head, blinking rapidly to pull back the tears threatening to spill with your anger.

“Screw you, Carmen.” You untie the apron as quickly as you can with your injured hand and throw it at his desk before walking out of the small room.

With strong footsteps, you take your bag from above the lockers and escape out the back. The door slams hard as you push yourself out, Carmen following behind but by the time he calls your name you’re already a couple steps ahead.

“Fox!” He yells and you spin in his direction with nothing but anger over your face.

“Listen, I’m sor-”

“No-fuck you- you don’t get to talk, alright?! It’s my turn.” He takes a step back before crashing into you, jaw locked tight and regardless of the deafening ring in your ears, you refuse to bite your tongue again.

“Look Carmy, I am truly sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier and I’m so sorry that I’m here instead of your brother- but that does not mean you get a fuck-it-all free card and get to pull shit like that!” Tears of anger trickle down your heated skin and tickle the curve of your trembling lips.

“I called you Carmy…” The words burn as they force themselves to spill out. “I called you, and I texted you and I waited cause I knew you were pissed - and you have every fuckin’ right to be- but it doesn’t give you the right to kick me out of your life one second, then act as if everything’s fine the next, cause it’s not!”

The sounds of the city have grown mute between your heavy breaths and the erratic beating in your skull. You don’t expect him to answer and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He simply stands before you, eyes glossy and brows knitted as you bare all that you kept since the last time you saw him.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re angry and whatever this is-was-” You say pointing between you. “I know it didn’t come at a right time. But I meant what I said, Bear, I do love you. So fucking much. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair of you to take it out on me cause you’re angry at him… I refuse to be collateral damage for whatever the fuck you got going on.”

The weight over your chest might have shrunk, but it didn’t make you feel any less better than before, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. You want nothing more than to run to his side and kiss away the few stray drops that nest in the corner of his red rimmed eyes. You want to hug him tight until the loose pieces of his brokenness stick back together into one whole man, but the last of logic inside you knows that it would only serve as a temporary band-aid. So instead you offer a speck of a smile, just a soft curve that doesn’t reach your teary eyes.

“I love you, Carmy. So I dunno, give me a call when you sort it out- I know it’s more of a ‘when’ than an ‘if’ situation-… I think I’m stupid enough to answer.”

Carmen watches from his frozen position as you rub the tears away with the back of your hand, then the gravel crunches under your boots and in a few seconds you disappear around the corner. 

He has enough energy to slump over the crates by the wall and pull the crushed package of smokes from his back pocket. While the wisp of smoke swirls in the wind around him, he rubs his eyes until the image of your tear-soaked face blurs away behind the darkness. The gravel creeks again, heavy steps move from his left then settle with a groan beside him.

“I’m not in the mood, alright?” He says, eyes focused on the street at the end of the alley.

Richie doesn’t say anything, only takes out his own cigarette and joins his cousin in silence.

“Is there, um-” His voice is thick and wavering, barely holding on to controlled breaths. “Is there a name for… when you’re afraid of somethin’ good happening cause you think somethin’ bad’s gonna happen? ”

His thumb rubs anxiously over the same spot on his palm as he waits for Richie’s response.

“Fuck it, I dunno… life?” He takes a long drag, letting the exhale occupy the empty space in front of them. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…” Then the silence falls over them again.

When his cigarette burns out, Carmy reaches for another, but before he can settle the lighter back down, Richie pulls out a small envelope from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to him. Carmy’s reluctant to take it, his eyes flicker between his cousin and the piece of paper, then he slowly reaches out.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from your asshole brother… R.I.P and whatnot.” Is all he says.

His hand trembles again, his breath short circuits and a new wave of dread nips at the back of his neck. He swallows hard and breathes in deep, bracing himself, before turning it over. ‘This day just keeps getting better…’

Chapter 12.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat and that’s it lmao