#and honestly i HAVE asked myself if its maybe a little unrealistic to have the effects of being a reaver last *this* long in one family tre

[lavellane]

😥 and 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 for Ashara

😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool?

ashara's funny in that she gets pissed off quite easily over small inconsequential things, but when the going gets tough and she's facing real problems she has pretty remarkable emotional regulation and can keep composed through pretty much anything. she believes in leading by example mostly, and tries to project an aura of strength and unflinching control in order to inspire morale in her people and make them feel.... idk. safer! more secure. like they can depend on her. which they can.

but ofc if some marquis decides to cancel a meeting on her last minute or a shipment of flour has been stolen by scavengers on the road, all that goes out the window and shes in a bad mood for the next 3 hours lol

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

ashara has a pretty wild family tree + history which i talked about a bit in a seperate answer, but long story short she has a LOT of family lore, tho currently the only surviving dhavise descendants are her, her sister mithra, and her nephew samahl

quick namedrops:

mithra is her twin sister, another mage, tho she rejected her abilities because she believes its ultimately more trouble than its worth. she prefers archery and has trained with the clan's hunters since early teens.

she also has a 5 year old son, ie ashara's nephew samahl (hard launch of that name i just decided on the spot lol). he's a very sweet inquisitive boy who ashara absolutely dotes on. mithra struggles with motherhood to the point where it's a frequent source of fights between them, because ashara sees mithra's relationship with her son as a mirror for THEIR relationship with their late mother. aka, bad and neglectful lol. anyways just realized he'll be 17 in datv :( cries and dies

numina dhavise was ashara's aforementioned mother. ashara's father arlan was a free marcher circle apprentice who'd been taken in by the clan after escaping the templars. the two quickly fell in love, conceiving ashara and mithra. arlan disappeared shortly after with no clue as to what happened and numina was never quite herself afterwards. she remained an adept healer for the clan, but ended up alienating herself quite a bit due to frequently resorting to blood magic in the hopes it might help her locate arlan. it never did, though her relationship with her children suffered in the attempt. it culminated in her death after the clan encountered nearby templars who were escorting an enchanter, and numina panicked. her blood magic went wrong for the first time in 13 years and she became a despair abomination, icing out half the camp and inflicting frostbite on several other members of the clan.

lastly, arlan is ashara's absent father lol. she and mithra found out years after numina's death that he had turned himself back into the circle of magi for a few reasons, mainly because he learnt what happens when dalish clans have too many mages and wanted to do right by his family. he'd been forced to complete his harrowing shortly afterwards and failed, becoming tranquil. i like to think when ashara became inquisitor she was able to keep better tabs on him and insure he was safe during the mage/templar conflict and all that followed afterwards.

so yeah. lots to unpack within ashara's family. everything in ashara's character really does come back to her family and the people in it, and although its mostly a sad story she is very much a family oriented person and wants to provide/protect them (she wants to protect everybody, really). if datv doesnt end in tragedy id love to end her story with her having her own little family and ending the cycle of pain which has kind of followed them around for generations.

[lizzieisright]

i was reading pt. 2 of your alpha!abby piece and almost started crying 🥺 but its the good kind, i promise! as a 20 year old virgin, i find myself being afraid about how my first time may go. and i know 20 isn’t even “old” to still be a virgin, but everyone i know has already gone through their first time or been in their first relationship, so it makes me feel like such a “late bloomer” lol

but the reason i almost cried is because the way you wrote abby in friends goes along so well with how i’d love my first time to go, whether its with a man or woman (since i’m bisexual). she’s so gentle and kind and patient, she reels the reader in when she knows its necessary and i pray i find the loml soon who’ll be that great to me. obv, i know smut romantasizes and puts huge rose-colored glasses on how sex really is, but it was still so great to read. i was so happy for reader even though she’s technically supposed to be me lool

also, i’m so happy you came back! i remember around last year or so you were hinting at writing alpha pieces for tlou but then you got busy maybe and was mia for a little while. thanks so much for posting snd indulging this little side of the internet, love 💕♥️♥️

Hi! Omg, love, I'm sending you the biggest hug ever!💕 I'm so glad you loved it, this is exactly the reason why I wanted to write this, to maybe bring some comfort to someone 🌸 honestly this work was a letter to my younger self and I'm happy it reached you!

I get your feeling about missing out on some experiences (been there), but 20 is really not "old" to be a virgin, you're perfectly okay! Sex is such a personal topic, you're the only person who knows what and when you want it, so only listen to yourself! 💖 First times can be intimidating, however you're not alone in this, but with a person who really cares about you, so if you find yourself feeling not great, talk to them, it will make it easier. 🌸

I'm so happy you liked how I wrote Abby! I really wanted to portray a good, caring partner through her, someone who is safe and comfortable. I'm sure you will find someone like this one day.

And yeah, it is unrealistic to a degree😂 a normal human won't be able to smell emotions, so we have to open our mouths and tell people how we feel irl, but everything else - how caring and patient Abby is - is really just a decent behavior and a lot of communication, and you should definitely ask for it from your person if it's something you want/need for yourself. (I've seen this cool phrase in a book that talked about being nervous about sex and rough translation would be "don't be afraid to "request support" and I found it really cool)

Yeah, last year around summer I went through a depressive episode and stopped writing, but I'm glad I'm back. 🌸

[frankthesnek]

*puts on interrogation face* Grievances Ask Game #s 17, 19 and 25??

Interrogate away! 🧐

17) Who's your least-liked character in __[insert fandom]__ and why?

Ah, okay, funny thing. I was actually just having this conversation with a mutual like... yeasterday 😅 I don't like Bucky. Simple as that. I don't. He annoys me. His roles in the MCU movies annoy me. Also, maybe I'm broken, but I personally do not see/feel the bond he's supposed to have with Steve. Granted, I have not seen the series with him and Sam, and I have heard that its great! If I watch it my opinion on him might change, but as of now, sorry not a fan 😓 (To be clear, this does not mean that I avoid works with him, idc if he has a supporting character in a fic.)

19)If you could change one thing about tumblr culture, what would it be?

I love tags! Really, I do; but, the culture of hiding so many good thoughts in tags has gotten a little out of hand imo. I love fun rambling tags (I use them a lot myself) but people put full ass post body worthy content in the tags! It's like we have become afraid to actually reblog a post and add our thoughts to it. And I say we because I'm one of these people. A couple of years ago, we would reblog stuff and put our thoughts on the reblog. Now, they always seem hidden in the tags. The number of posts where people are like, "don't hide these gems in the tags!" and add a screenshot of the tags. We need to start putting our thoughts in reblogs again.

25) Share an unpopular opinion you have RE: fanfiction (writing, culture, etiquette, etc.)

Lol I'm almost afraid to answer this one honestly 🫣 First of all, I fully recognize that my opinion here is unrealistic and unfair, like 100% is not logical. That said, hot take, multichapter stories should be written in full, completed (at least as a rough draft) before any chapters are posted. That way, there is no risk of leaving people on a permanent cliffhanger. Really and truly, this is mostly born from me projecting because I never post multichapter works without having them completed, and have zero faith in myself to finish multichapter fics unless I do it this way. Also, I just personally do not have the attention span to sit wondering if an author will post soon or even finish a fic. Like I said to start with, I know this is an unrealistic expectation and that a lot of authors thrive on the energy of kudos/comments as motivation. But I was asked so there you go. (And no hate to authors with unfinished wips! This issue is my issue, NOT the authors, and is why 99% of the time I stick to completed works and everyone wins and is happy!)

Thanks for the ask this is a very interesting list!

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN

NAME?: Leah

PRONOUNS?: She/Her (They is also accepted)

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION?: Discord is easiest for me cause I can get the notifications on my phone. (It makes noise so I like HAVE to check it.) Whereas there's days or even weeks I don't check Tumblr. SO- discord is best.)

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: I only have two. Cicero is usually the most active because he gets more interaction. But I like writing on both and do so as often as my depression addled brain will let me.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: Uhhh.... Well, over ten. Maybe... 13 years? 14 Maybe?

BEST EXPERIENCE?: I've made friends and lost friends and seen comebacks and such. But really I just enjoy consuming your guys' stuff. I read your stuff and alot of you do arts in some way or another about things I like so really it's good for me all around even if I'm not interacting with you at the time. I really do enjoy writing stories with you guys though. I wouldn't say I have one single best experience though. (Such a cop out answer I know)

RP PET PEEVES?: I dunno man. Maybe like... people who take themselves and writing silly little mind thoughts too seriously? I do this for fun, yannow? Its not my life. Idk something like that. It's not like I don't like people who are serious about their writing, it's more like having unrealistic expectations and standards pushed on me to fit into your narrative that I didn't ask for. (Or rather, pushing my MUSES into narratives that I didn't ask for. Like.... in a bullying sense. If that makes sense?)

I've been bullied and shamed and lied to in rp communities before. And I'm just like... over that kind of stuff. I just come here to write my little stories with my little online friends and that's as much as it is gonna be. Yannow?

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: I love more serious things like angst. But I also like a bit of soft too. I like writing smut, but sometimes it takes me awhile to work up to it because like.... I don't wanna embarrass myself? lmao

PLOTS OR MEMES?: I like both! Memes are easier to just wash your hands of. But also they're great starters and ways to get to know each other more often than not! I'm honestly terrible at plotting cause I'm such a people pleaser. But- I'm more than happy to talk things out with others and see where it goes.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: Both are fine I have no preference. Although I must say I have a tendency to ramble and multi-para even without meaning to. Cicero's got a lot going on in his head specifically and if I don't write it all out I feel like you're missing out on the experience, ya dig? So like... I LIKE writing both. But do I typically write one liners? Absolutely not.

TIME TO WRITE?: Really late at night or early in the morning. (Every so often the afternoon but that's usually when I'm napping. My sleep schedule is shitty cause of my job.)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: There's some of me in both Cicero and Kira in different ways. They've also defs evolved over the years. Straying from what I intended and such. But I'm not displeased about it. I wouldn't say either are self insert-y though. Cicero is way more confident than I am and Kira is much more hardworking than I am ha ha.

Tagged by: @archerwhiterp

Tagging: Whoever would like to! :)

[natsmagi]

i was typing this in the notes to an ask but it gogt waaaay too long lol sorry. prefacing it with you know i love your artwork & i have nothing against what you choose to draw. also possibly worded weird cus i didnt write it in the sense of talking only to you alone

there is certainly this conflict between artists as random individuals and artists as a collective when it comes to how to approach this issue… as a hobbyist you can draw whatever you like but also when you have trends like a lack of fatness thats going to be disheartening too. i think the answer is getting more people into making art (& like general societal change of course since its an issue baked into bigotry.)

because as much as i agree with the sentiment of "there is significant under representation of fat women" (or characters in general) at the same time fandom is a hobby space and i dislike the notion of badgering individual artists to draw any particular thing especially when the source material does not have that thing. if you are looking for artwork of fat women thats great but i would not ever recommend something like enstars that has 1. no fat characters and 2. no women, barring a few exceptions. i think expecting to find fanart of fat women from a source entirely composed of thin men is unrealistic, even with the relative popularity of femstars.

plus there are other complications such as the typical modern fandom f/f scene sometimes being very strict and even vicious at times with their standards of what's enough diversity or what content is appropriate. ive heard a lot of anecdotes about people who WERE contributing to these things but whom were still harassed or got threats from other users over it not being good enough, and that's just not conducive to creating the environment or diversity you want. nobody is going to want to be in a fandom space where they have to walk on eggshells all the time. and i bring this up because of how you were clearly harassed by randos. accusing you of misogyny or shaming other womens' bodies as being "unrealistic" is not the way to go

the only reasonable solution i can think of to this is, again, to just encourage more artists to start drawing in the first place, or even better start contributing yourself. individuals should have the freedom to draw what they like without getting flamed for it AND people should be able to see themselves represented in artwork. i would like to see some more fat characters too, this is definitely something ive thought about before myself

(personally all the fat people i draw are ocs or portraits of people i know that i dont want to post online but maybe if i get some inspiration i will draw the long-sought chubby mugi myself. i am not super interested in femstars though so whether or not itd actually be fem mugi is up in the air. but all the talking here about this topic has had me thinking about following my own advice and putting what i want to see into the world.)

OUGHH THESE ARE ALL GOOD POINTS!! and i agree! the main thing we should be doing is ENCOURAGING people to add more diversity, not harassing them into it! people who only draw for fun arent really obligated to draw anything outside of their comfort zone, which again is why i think its better to simply uplift the idea of trying out new things and new appearances that you dont often draw

theres also SO MUCH room for more femstars artists too! and like ive said before if you wanna see something done right you gotta do it yourself. and i kind of like that. i like that everyone gets to craft their own little femstars variant of the enstars cast, and you can make them look however you want! and honestly? you SHOULD! seeing personal touches to designs always brings me joy, so even if you dont feel very confident in your art, if you have a specific vision for a character that you want brought to life please go ahead and draw it!! (or if you really dont want to you can always commission someone)

i also wanna highlight one of ur last points too bc yea. its unfortunate but often times whenever i see someone try adding diversity to their art for the first time they end up getting flamed because its not an accurate depiction of what they were trying to represent. and that really sucks! obviously we should strive to have accurate representation, but if its an artist that hasnt tried their hand on it before, ESPECIALLY a beginner artist, we shouldnt flame them for it. rather we should educate them on what went wrong and how they can improve for the future. these are people who actually WANT and are TRYING to add diversity to their art, but because in animanga circles theres a lack of education on how to draw more diverse features of really any kind. which is why trying to educate is far better than shaming. because if you shame these artists theyre gonna be too scared to try again, giving us less diversity once more

so yes basically what im saying is i want us all to encourage diversity and to help each other out by sharing resources and tips when it comes to drawing it!! one person is Obviously not gonna be able to do every single thing, which is why i want more people to pick up the pen and bring life to their visions!! also i really want more femstars food pelase pick up the pen i am a starved orphan and only femstars yuri can satiate me!!!!!!!!!

[decadentrot]

Hello just wanna ask, Do you think that damian's parents are in an arranged marriage? it feels like it when you read the new chapter of the manga.

Ok imma be real i havent actually "read" the newest chapters yet. I enjoy reading them in big chunks/arcs to fully immerse myself and so i dont forget details, but i dont mind spoilers strangely sooo b/c of this i let myself see spoilers on the TL and i heard some stuff from my friends about the red circus arc. So my thoughts based on my limited knowledge (up to the Friendship Scheme Arc) on Damian's parents:

THEY SUCK and if they are in an arranged marriage then honestly i feel like that would make a lot of sense to show a foil/connection to Anya's family. I hope im explaining this correctly but its like the Forger family isn't perfect but theyre kinda 'fantastical' in a sense that they all got together somehow by 'fate' and they are all leaning towards a 'found family learning how to love' kinda vibe, while the Desmonds are built by the harsh reality of life's obligation and everyday they realize how much it sucks. They got together probably out of expectation and politics and everyday the bitterness and disappointment for each other hits a little harder. Maybe im projecting too hard, but i feel its like the Forgers show an ideal of what everyone wants (eating the table with home cooked meals and parents who actively take part in helping your education) while the Desmonds show the bitter truth of most families (unrealistic high standards to live up to without any help from parents and not being able to grow as your own person because your being forced to be your parents second chance of living) aka found family vs forced family. So even whether its contractually obligated, i do believe their marriage at least came from a social obligation, especially being a woman in that time period.

I mean thats part of the reason Yor agreed to be with Loid right, to keep suspicion off of her as a single woman. I do think Melinda wasn't ready/didn't want to be a mom/wife and desperately wanted a free life, but as a woman of her status she was expected to marry wealthy and become a housewife obedient to her husband's wishes. It didnt help her that her husband was this big powerful political man, she probably couldn't complain to anyone without it reaching his ears. I don't think Donovan lets her have much control over the parenting department despite not having any interest in it himself. Like Damian, I imagine that Demetrius also lived in the dorm rooms away from Melinda and forced to study. And seeing how stripped of freedom she got in regards to Demetrius, Melinda didn't want to give birth to another child for years explaining the big age gap between the brothers and her distaste for Damian or maybe she did have more kids and maybe they were girls and maybe Donovan saw no use in having daughters and sent them away to some "facility" for better use and Melinda is now scared of what her husband is capable of...

Either way, it definitely seems like an unwanted unhappy marriage :(

[fiveisnumber1]

The Vortex That Takes Me To You - "Me, Lu, and Five Times Two" Side Story

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32

_________________________

"Wait!" Five called out as he tried to hand you the briefcase

It was too late though as Luther pushed him into the vortex to 2019. As Five held the now-defunct half of the briefcase he fell through time for what felt like a matter of seconds before hitting the ground of the courtyard behind the academy. With a giant flash, the spot in the sky where the blue used to be was now gone. From afar the five known living Hargreeves siblings slowly approached the person who dropped from the sky.  Slowly, Five got up from the ground throwing the broken briefcase away as he dusted the dirt and leaves off his clothing. Approaching closer the group looks on in confusion as Klaus asks,

"Does anyone else see a slightly older version of little number Five or is that just me?"

Five took a look down at himself. His suit was too loose now and when he looked at his hands he saw no more wrinkles or signs of old age. There was a leftover puddle nearby from rain that must've occurred early and as he bent over it he saw the version of himself that he had left only moments ago. Bringing a hand up to his face, he stared at his newly youthful reflection.

"I'm young again." He whispered to himself

At the same time that this was happening you were making your way to the florist to pick up flowers that Pogo had ordered. As you walked to the shop you felt that something was wrong. No, not wrong, but different. From behind you, you felt a molecular disturbance and a giant one at that. As you continued to walk to the shop the physical pain grew so much that you had to stop and bend over. It felt like your insides were being torn apart bit by bit. Somehow managing to turn around you felt the direction it was coming from. It was coming from back towards the house. The pain of the disturbance went on for a few more seconds but then abruptly it stopped. Catching your breath, you stood back up but something felt familiar in a way. It was like an odd chill of deja vu but you had never experienced this before. But if the disturbance was coming from the house then the flowers could wait. Reginald didn't deserve flowers anyway. Quickly, you started sprinting back towards the Academy trying to get there as quickly as you could.

Back at the house, the five Hargreeves siblings sat around the kitchen table as they watched the newly returned Five make a sandwich. It had been years since they had last seen him and a lot had changed in that time. Everyone had their own thoughts and feelings on the matter and some were more upset than others. Five wasn't exactly sure what to say to them after all this time. It was quite a complicated situation to be in. Trying to not let his uncertainty show, Five stoically questioned,

"What is the date? The exact date."

The group stays quiet for a second before Vanya states,

"The 24th."

"Of?" Five pressed

"March," Vanya replies

"Good." Five comments

This was exactly the time that he was planning to be here, on the day of his father's funeral. Thank god that man was dead. If he was alive he would never hear the end of it.

"So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asks

It was no surprise to Five that Luther would speak up. Even after all this time, he was trying to take the lead on things. Instead of responding to his brother, Five puts two slices of bread down on a cutting board and focuses on his desired food item. He hadn't eaten all day and apparently paradox psychosis was a real energy drainer. He needed a second before he was going to explain anything. Standing up, Luther looks down to Five and states firmly,

"It's been 17 years." 

"It's been a lot longer than that." Five replies immediately jumping behind Luther to find marshmallows

"I didn't miss that." Luther comments

While Five looks around the kitchen for the marshmallows, Diego asks accusingly,

"So where'd you go?"

Of course, an accusatory tone. How could Diego not have one? Five could just tell that Diego was upset not because he had disappeared for years but because he was the one that made you disappear for years. If only the siblings cared for each other as much as Diego cared for you, maybe things would be different. Five didn't have time for Diego's older brother shtick though. Jumping back to the table with the marshmallows, Five bluntly replied,

"The future. It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaims

Five turned towards the refrigerator to get peanut butter for his sandwich, his mind wandering as he thought back to his time in the apocalypse. 45 years. He was so arrogant to think he could time travel. Grabbing the peanut butter jar, Five talks aloud,

"I should've listened to the old man. You know jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

Unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar Five looks up from the sandwich he was making and at his siblings before him. The last time he had seen them all together was as corpses. And before that, they were all still children. It was a lot to take in but he was focused on his task of stopping the apocalypse. He had the information he needed on what caused it, but he needed to find the right time to discuss it with everyone. Keeping a stoic look he tries to deflect his mind to something else by commenting to Klaus,

"Nice dress."

"Oh, Danke," Klaus responds playing with some of the loose straps

As he starts to assemble the sandwich he was making Vanya questions him,

"So how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." Five responds

"That makes no sense," Diego says confused

"Well, it would if you were smarter." Five remarks

Diego angrily stands up and stares down Five attempting to get towards him to attack him. Instead, Luther stands up puts out an arm to hold him back. Honestly, it didn't matter if Luther was there to stop Diego or not. He was all bark and no bite.

"How long were you there?" Luther asks

"45 years." Five states bluntly "Give or take."

Luther and Diego both sit back down in unison. All the siblings stare at their brother with wide eyes in shock at his statement. 45 years?

"So what are you saying? You're 58?" Luther asks

"No. My consciousness is 58. My body is 18 again." Five retorts

With his sandwich put together, Five walks off to the side of the table they all sat around and faces away from his siblings.

"How does that even work?" Vanya inquires

"I used the improper equation when I was forced through time." Five replies

"Improper equation?" Vanya questions

Electing to ignore Vanya's question, Five turns back towards his siblings at the table. There was no reason to explain all that had happened before he came here. It was unnecessary and would probably worry his siblings more than they needed to be, or perhaps even enrage them and there was no way he was going to stop the apocalypse if his siblings weren't willing to work together. Picking up a newspaper detailing the death of his father, Five takes a look at it before commenting unamused,

"Guessed I missed the funeral."

"How did you know about that?" Luther asks

"What part of the future do you not understand." Five remarks to him, his eyes not leaving the paper "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego says

"No," Luther adds

Ah, yes. One and Two still fighting to be the leader of the family as if it hadn't been years since the dissolution of the Umbrella Academy.

"Hmm. Nice to see nothing's changed." Five comments

The Hargreeves looked at their newly returned brother and as he stood there quietly, holding his sandwich he stared back awkwardly at his siblings. The prior self that he left in the '60s said that you would show up when the conversation with his siblings felt over. It felt pretty over right now and there was no sign of you. Five's heart started to race, everything had been laid out for him, and now nothing was going according to plan. Panicked, Five decided it was best to leave. Keeping a serious look on his face he started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison questioned

"What else is there to say?" Five responded

When he was out of sight of his siblings he once again noticed how his suit didn't fit him properly anymore. He needed to change. Flashing upstairs he looked in the closets of his siblings but was met with academy uniform after academy uniform. Reluctantly, he took an academy uniform from Klaus' closet since it looked like it would fit best and put it on. He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit before deciding to head back downstairs.

Making it back to the house, you looked around, and only felt faint traces of a disturbance. Maybe you were going crazy? Heading through the front door you looked around the foyer and some other rooms on the main floor and upper floors but found no one. Maybe they all got in an argument and left, it's not like they enjoyed being here anyway. Letting out a small sigh you made your way back downstairs to the parlor. Someone would probably show up soon enough. You stood in the doorway for a second and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. You had hated the painting at first, but you tolerated its presence after years of coexisting with it. Carefully, you made your way over to the fireplace and looked up at the portrait that loomed over you. It was nothing like him. No light in his eyes, no cocky smile on his face, no personality. Just an emotionless and unrealistic replication of who he was. You wanted him to come back.

As you stared at his portrait, Five had made his way downstairs and took in what had become of his home. As he approached the parlor he saw a giant portrait of him on the wall and below it stood a familiar figure. Five stopped in his tracks and his heart began to race. This was his (Y/N). Five readjusted his jacket and tie and took in a breath before slowly starting to walk over to you. Hearing footsteps behind you, you stopped looking at the painting and turned to look where they came from. Seeing the figure before you, your eyes went wide with shock as the world around felt like it was slowing down. Carefully, you moved forward towards him almost as if in a trance, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish. You extended your hand out and Five moved to meet you in the middle. When the two of you were close enough your fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, but you quickly pulled back, shocked by the feeling of something there.

"I think I'm hallucinating again," you whisper

Five reaches out and gently grabs the hand you had retracted. Bringing it closer to him he places it on top of his heart, holding your hand there. You can feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your hand as your own started to catch up to match his. You looked up at his face and gazed into his eyes. Tears prick your own as you softly ask,

"Five?"

Five smiled at you as he looked upon your face. You were so beautiful. Not that you weren't in the 60s but the way you looked at him now was different. It was soft and welcoming and felt like it was only for him. Leaning in just a little closer Five whispered to you,

"I'm here."

You let out a small gasp. He was here. This was real. Flinging your arms around him you held him tightly as Five wrapped his arms around to hold you back. No wonder his other self was so protective, who would ever want to let this go? You looked up at Five. A question had loomed on your mind ever since the day he vanished and you had to know the answer.

"Are you still mad at me?" You questioned nervously

Five saw the nervous look on your face. He knew that you had wondered if he was mad at you for a while. It was one of the last things you had said to him before you...died. Five took your face into his hands. Looking gently into your eyes he answered,

"I was never mad at you, to begin with. I was mad at my dad and one of my biggest regrets will always be taking that out on you and then leaving you all alone."

With his response, a weight fell off your shoulders. For so long you had thought you were the one that drove him away. You thought he was mad at you all this time, but to know that wasn't the case made you feel so much better.

"So you didn't purposely stay away?" You asked

"No, how could I ever choose to be away from my best friend?" Five added

You looked off to the side as best as you could, given that your face was held between his hands, and hoped that he didn't notice the blush rising to your cheeks.

"I don't know, but I missed you." You mumbled

Five took his hands from your face and hugged you once more responding,

"I missed you too. Not a day went by when I didn't."

You smiled knowing that Five had missed you as much as you missed him. Day after day, month after month, year after year, you thought of him as you waited for him to come back. And now here he was before you telling you he felt the same way. It was all that you needed to hear. Well...there were other things you wanted to hear but those were more so desires than necessities. You were just happy to have him back.

"Pull that shit again and I'll kill you." You joke as you give him a small shove away

"I promise I won't." Five replies with a smirk "Although I don't think you would kill me anyway."

"Perhaps." You respond

Five threw his hands into the pockets of his academy shorts and looked at you.

"Care to walk and talk around the house?" Five offered

"Of course. Would you like me to turn invisible so you look insane for old times sake?"

"I already look insane in this uniform." Five joked

"You always did. C'mon, let's go." You say extending your hand towards him

Five looks at your hand, almost hesitant to take it because none of this felt real. Even though he had been around you not too long ago back in the 60s, this truly was different. This version of you hadn't seen him since the day he left. Unlike prior you who had experienced being around him, you had waited every day for his return. There was an excitement and awe that he got from you this time around that made him nervous. As Five thought more about the situation before him he froze up. As much as he trusted you when you said that you loved him the way he loved you Five still couldn't help but wonder if his other self just had better circumstances. He still worried that maybe that version really was just lucky. Five didn't want to get this wrong, but nevertheless, he took your hand. Fingers intertwining, there was electricity you both felt but would not tell the other.

With a smile, you started to walk around the house as you had done many times before, both of you trying your best to catch the other up. The conversation came easy as if the two of you were never separated. Five took in the sights of his old home. Nothing had really changed since he left, minus the small presence you had created. There was a newer piano in the parlor and you had shown off your wonderful room to him. He remembered your description of it from your diary and how you changed it from being Diego's to yours but it was even better in person. As you two exited your room Five looked down the hall at a shut door. It was his room. Five made his way there and you followed behind. Carefully, he opened the door to it and stepped inside. Once more you followed behind and thinking that the sight of his childhood room might be tough for him, you shut the door.

As you shut the door though Allison who had been heading to her room happened to pass by and noticed the two of you in there. Something about you two being together again reignited the feelings of her youth. She remembered the times when you and she had traded secrets about your crushes. The gossip in her immediately needed to tell someone else. Turning back around she went downstairs and noticed the rest of her siblings in the parlor again. Approaching them all she said,

"I don't want to alert anyone but Five and (Y/N) went into Five's room and shut the door."

"WHAT?!" Diego shouted as he angrily turned to face her

"Oooh, juicy," Klaus commented "I remember being 18 and hormonal. Horniness levels are through the roof, I mean-"

"NOT ON MY WATCH!" Diego yelled cutting Klaus off

There was no way his baby sister was going to be in a room with a boy alone. Especially not with the boy who had left her alone and broke her heart. What was he going to do? Break it again? Not if he had anything to say about it. With his fists clenched tight Diego started to march his way out of the parlor. He was going to protect his little tiny princess, but as he attempted to go, Luther, with his superior strength, held him back.

"Let me go, Luther!" Diego yelled

"We shouldn't just barge in there Diego." Luther criticizes

"That's MY  little sister!" Diego retorts

"There are better ways of approaching this," Luther replies

"I want to know what's going on though..." Vanya comments

"Me too," Allison adds

As the group stands around debating Ben leans over to Klaus and says,

"Klaus."

"What do you want?" Klaus replies annoyed

"Is that camera we bought as kids still in Five's room?" Ben asks

"Yeah, we never took it out. Why?"

"The tablet to watch the video feed on is in my closet." Ben states

Klaus looks at him confused for a second before realizing what Ben meant. Getting excited Klaus exclaims,

"Guys! Guys!"

The rest of the group looks over to him confused and with all of their attention grabbed Klaus continues,

"The video camera we got as kids is still in Five's room and the tablet is in Ben's closet!"

"Do you think it still even works?" Allison questions

"It's worth a try," Luther says

The group looks at each other before silently nodding in agreement. Together they head up to Ben's room and search for the tablet in his closet. Finding it they turn on the switch and to their surprise, it works. The picture quality was not as great as they remember but clear enough that they all can see what is going on. As they all stand over the tablet Diego says annoyed,

"Alright Five, what are you hiding from me."

"From us." Luther corrects

The two brothers glare at each other before turning their attention back to the tablet and the two of you in Five's room. Five stepped into his room quietly taking in the surroundings. Nothing had changed, it was as if his room was frozen in time. As he looks around you slowly approach his side. Standing next to him you looked around the room as well and comment,

"It's an odd feeling. Knowing that time has passed but everything looks the same."

Five looks towards you. Of course, you knew the feeling he was going through.

"No worries though, we'll get you everything you need to make this place feel like home again." You mention

"I already have everything I need to feel at home." Five replies, his hand holding yours just a little tighter

Five gazes in your direction but as he does so he notices something behind you. Letting go of your hand he steps around you curious and makes his way over to his desk. Looking down at the object placed there he realized that it's the radio he had taken from Allison all those years ago. Confused as to what he was looking at you followed him towards the desk and saw the radio.

"I can't believe it's still here after all this time."  Five comments

"Well we never gave it back and I'm guessing nobody wanted to come take it after..." You mention trailing off

"Yeah..." Five replies before questioning "I wonder if it still works?"

You shrugged your shoulders and gestured to the old electronic encouraging him to see if it worked. Leaning down Five plugs in the old radio before pressing the on button. The sound of static blasts loudly through the speakers causing both of you to flinch back a little in shock. After a moment Five started to turn the knob to tune the radio, searching through for a station that was clear. Soon the static started to fade and in its place music could be heard. 

As the camera continues to spy on the two of you, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings watch what goes on from Ben's room. Seeing the working radio Allison exclaims,

"Hey, it's my radio! I never got it back!" 

"Allison, it's been years and still no one cares about your radio." Klaus comments "We want to know what's up with Five and (Y/N)."

Allison lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Just because it was old and she hadn't been in possession of it or thought about it for years didn't mean it wasn't hers. Even with her pouting, the siblings continued to observe. As they did so Diego aggressively says,

"Alright Five what shit are you going to pull now?"

"I don't think he's going to do anything." Vanya comments "I mean there's nothing wrong with them being happy."

Back in Five's room, music flowed through the air as Five leaned against the edge of his desk, watching you look around the place. He was absolutely enthralled by you. The most mundane of things seemed extravagant just because you were there with him. A wide smile appeared on his face as he remembered a similar time he had spent with you. You took in the room silently as the upbeat music played. It had been a bit since you'd last been in Five's room, but for the first time in a while it felt warm and bright again. Looking over your shoulder you looked back towards Five and noticed the smile on his face.

"What?" You questioned 

"Nothing." Five replied with a shake of his head

"Nothing? The mind of Five Hargreeves is completely empty?" You joke sarcastically "This is something I'd expect from your brothers, not you."

Five rolled his eyes at you but he missed your quick wit. No one at the commission could keep up with him like you could. As you walked back over to him, Five could see the look on your face waiting for him to elaborate. 

"I was just thinking-" Five starts to explain before being cut off

"Ah, so you were thinking!" You comment back

"Yes." Five replies letting out a small laugh "I was thinking about how this reminds me of our friendiversary a bit."

"Yeah, kind of, minus the food and flowers." You reply 

You were right, there was no food and flowers. How could he even think to compare the two times when this time wasn't as perfect? Quickly standing up from the desk, Five starts to make his way over to the door as he states worried,

"Do you want food and flowers?" 

Reaching out, you grab his hand preventing him from going any further. Stopping in his tracks he looks back towards you confused at your action. Gently, you pull his hand back towards you, causing him to come back close to you. With his hand still in yours, Five asks confused,

"Do you not want food and flowers?"

"No, Five."  You replied with a smile "I just want you."

For a moment, Five could feel his heart stop. Although his expression seemed calm and collected, internally he had no clue what to do. He was so preoccupied trying to figure out how to get back to 2019 so he could stop the apocalypse that he never stopped to think fully about what would happen when he actually did so. And it wasn't until he met himself that he even found out being a teenager again was a possibility. This was the most unprepared he had ever been and the nerves he felt on your friendiversary were nothing compared to the nerves he felt now. If you didn't want food or flowers then what could he do? And then from the radio, he heard the voice of the announcer,

"This is Arlo Vegas with 103.5 WKTU. I hope that even with all the doom and gloom outside today everyone can stay high and dry. Up next, a throwback to 2017 this is Adore by Dean Lewis."

I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm I'm just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars But I had a great night, 'cause you kept rubbing against my arm So I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm

Five looked towards the radio as the sound of a soft guitar slowly playing and the lyrics of the song enveloped the room. As the music played he remembered the part of your friendiversary that he could never forget. He remembered how the two of you danced that night and the joy he felt in that moment. Looking back towards you he nervously asked,

"Would you like to dance...with me?"

"I'd love to." You replied longingly

Five guided you the few steps towards the center of his room taking a quiet breath as he tried to calm his nerves. How did he do this so easily as a child? Oh right, he didn't realize he was in love with you then. Turning back to face you he saw as your eyes lit up and your smile widened. So much for breathing when you took his breath away so easily. Gently, he took one of your hands in his as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You wrapped your free arm around his neck as the two of you slowly started to dance to the music.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you

"So is this what your prom was like last week?" Five asked 

You looked up towards him slightly confused. How did he know about your prom? It took you a second to remember but you then recalled that he had come from the future so he had to have found out about it somehow. You recalled your prom only a week ago, it was fun to be with your friends but it was definitely not the same experience as dancing with Five. With a slight chuckle, you answer.

"No, it was not like this."

"Oh, why not?" Five questions

"Well dancing with you is quite different than dancing with Dean, because neither of us had dates and we pitied each other." You explained

"I wish I could've come a week earlier then. I would've saved you the pity by dancing with your brother." Five joked

"Wow, okay." You laughed

"I'm joking." Five explained, his expression softening as he added "I'd never pass up a chance to dance with you."

"Neither would I." you replied quietly

All of my money is spent on these nights, just so we can hang out Spacing in and out of your dresses, I wanna be found by you Found by you

As the two of you swayed you couldn't help but rest your head against his chest. A small smile appeared on your face as you closed your eyes and comfortably melted into the moment. Unconsciously, you started to stroke the hair at the back of his head casing Five to lean into your touch. It was so gentle and soft. Five could feel his heart start to pick up its pace. He hoped that you couldn't hear so because he had no clue how he would explain it to you. Granted, he knew all the words he wanted to say to you but he didn't know if he'd even be able to get them out. 

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you, I adore you

As your head rested on top of him a thought came to your mind. It was something that you hadn't done in a while and something you had desired to do. Lifting your head up, you look towards Five who looks back down towards you. Had he done something wrong? Did you hear how fast his heart was beating? Quietly you ask,

"Will you spin me?"

Relief washes over Five's system as he gives you a soft smile.

"Of course I will," He replies

Slightly breaking away from you he helps to twirl you around, the smile on your face filling his heart to the point he felt it was going to burst. Your laughter filled the room as you enjoyed your time with your best friend. You couldn't think of anything to make the moment better. Five spins you back in towards him before spinning you out once more. As you spin out quickly your grip on his hand slips and you start to fall back. Quickly, Five flashes over and catches you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as yours find their way around his neck. 

She kicks the gutter in tight shorts, basketball courts Watch me, watch her talk to boys I'm known as a right-hand slugger Anybody else wanna touch my lover?

The two of you look at each other both trying to catch your slight breaths from the burst of adrenaline that just occurred. 

"I told you I wasn't going to let you fall." Five comments

It was too late for that though. You had fallen for him years ago in a situation exactly like this one. There was something different about it this time, an energy you had never felt before. Your eyes were still locked on each other he slowly brought you back up. The soft bridge of the song played in the back but all either of you could hear was the beating of your own hearts. Wrapped up tightly in each other's arms there was no space between the two of you. Each of you wanted to say so many things, wanted to shout the thoughts that raced in your mind, the ones you always had, but no words came out. As Five stood there with you in his arms he finally started to understand what you meant back in the 60s when you said the pieces would fall into place. Everything about this moment felt right like it was meant to be. Like he was meant to be here with you. As you continued to look into each other's eyes there was a magnetism that pulled you closer. Your faces inched closer as the space between you lessened more and more. For a moment you both wondered if you were dreaming but no, this was real. You were here with each other. And as the climax of the final verse hit, your eyes closed as your lips gently pressed against each other.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you

Tenderly, you both expressed everything you wanted to tell the other without saying any words at all. The years of pining and longing to be reunited had finally culminated into something beautiful. Something you both had desired for a very long time. The world around you faded away leaving only the two of you and your newly acknowledged love for each other. Removing his arms from your waist he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. He never wanted to leave this moment. This was all he ever wanted, this is what he survived and fought for and now to have it? It felt unreal to him. But it was real. He had you, and you had him, and nothing would ever take that away now.

I adore you

Neither of you wanted to be the first to part from the kiss but as the final lyric of the song ended the two of you slowly separated. With eyes still closed, you rested your foreheads against each other, relishing in the beautiful moment. As Five held you close, he knew he needed to tell you something. Even if he had expressed it in his kiss to you, he wanted to verbalize it, to make it know and make it real. Moving one of his hands from your cheek to your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. As he gazed into your eyes, with adoration in his voice, he whispered,

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You could feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you processed his words. There was nothing you wanted to hear more than those words. Finally getting to express how you felt, you replied breathlessly,

"I love you too, Five. You know what this means now though."

"What?" Five questioned

"You can never leave me again." You answer

"I promise nothing will ever tear us apart again. Not people, not distance, not time, nothing." 

The two of you looked at each other lovingly before leaning in for another kiss. As you did so the siblings in the other room saw everything. 

"Awww," Vanya said as she placed a hand over her heart

"They're so cute!" Allison exclaimed

"They are not!" Diego remarks angrily as he tries to make his way to the door "I'm going to go in there and stop him."

"Luther, stop him." Allison requests

Doing as she says, Luther wraps his arms around Diego from behind and picks him off the ground. Kicking his legs and wriggling around, Diego fights like a child trying to escape Luther's grasp.

"That is my little princess! I need to put a stop to this!" Diego complains

"She is 18, you need to let her live her life," Allison replies

"Not with him! The one who ruined it." Diego retorts

"I don't think she sees it that way," Vanya interjects

As the other siblings argue with Diego, Ben leans over to Klaus and states,

"If I was alive you would owe me $20 bucks right now. I told you they'd come back and get together before Allison and Luther would."

"Oh, shut up," Klaus replies

The rest of the group looks over to Klaus before looking back at the still flailing Diego.

"Klaus makes a good point. You need to drop this and shut up Diego." Allison states

"I will not!" Diego replies back

"If you don't calm down, drop the issue, and let them be happy I will rumor you into doing so." Allison threatens

It takes a moment but Diego soon stops his fighting. He was not going to be rumored into ignoring the situation but for now, he would put it off. Letting out a huff, Diego relents,

"Fine."

"Good, now let's shut down this camera and just leave them be. We can talk to them later." Luther commands as he puts Diego back down

And so as the siblings tried to quietly file out of Ben's room and go off to do other things, this version of Five and you stayed happily together ready to take on whatever the future threw at them.

____________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff @gabriella-aesthetic @xxtwizztedxx

[myonepiece]

can I ask what are your thoughts about people on tiktok cancelling oda for being "misogynistic"??? I'm a woman and misogyny is a huge word so I got shocked and see what they were talking about and its about this interview where female fans are complaining about the girls characters design and fanservice and he said he cares more about his male audience thats why. One piece is shounen and is male dominated, and you know how they like the non realistic big boobies and hips though I agree that there's too much fanservice and nami and robin's old design were better. But the fanservice criticism is understandable as a woman I would also like a diverse body image for women like how Isayama creates his fem characters which is chefs kiss. Oda draws them poorly (in my opinion) but I like how THEY ARE WELL WRITTEN. I love their mommy milkers but I agree the new fans or anime watchers who's gonna start watching it might feel uncomfy but setting aside their design THEIR BACKSTORIES ARE GOOD. And he writes Zoro as someone who sees women snd men equal so I don't see how he's misogynistic 😅 Misogynist hates women, Oda doesn't hate women he just said that his target audience are men bc op is shonen after all.

I literally love female characters in op they're well written comparing to other shonen that's the same age as one piece that has the same fan service but the girl is just quirky, submissive and has no personality at all. Like Naruto the women are so poorly written and could've had more potential.

Maybe its because I'm already used with the way he drew them but I really love their timeskip faces, they got more drip before I still love them especially Robin

ooo yes interesting, I hope I covered everything in this <3

TW- body image

I’m going to start by saying this is a touchy subject because my body/self-image issues are pretty bad and I don’t like talking about bodies, but I have a lot to say about this specific topic. I do not think Oda is a misogynist, as you said he does write Zoro as someone who views men and women as equal, and a mysoginst wouldn’t do that. he hasn’t done anything in the show that says he hates women, it’s simply his portrayal of them- and more specifically their bodies. that being said, I have a problem with the way he has his female characters look- of course the details and overall animation are amazing, and yes their bodies (especially boobs) are drool worthy, but he could definitely... tone it down a bit. in japan typically are skinny and have low body fat, but the more curvaceous aspect of Oda’s characters are pretty far-fetched. I get why he does it for the men watching, and while that does sound slightly misogynistic, mostly like a stereotypical misogynist, it isn’t- at most it’s sexist. I think that the way the characters look will cause a lot more body image issues in young girls (or just people in general) and that definitely isn’t his plan. it’s giving an unhealthy and unrealistic expectation of women, and maybe more specifically asian women. if he could simply make their boobs a little smaller and overall make their body shapes a little less “perfect” because seriously ALL of them have hourglass bodies except for a few of the villains. and honestly Oda, stop making the glow up so drastically!! Alvida, the large round women who Cody was sailing with when he met Luffy (the very first episodes for reference), was punched by Luffy and flew away, only to show up later and team up with Buggy but she had “glown up” because of Luffy’s punch- she lost all body fat and was left with an hourglass body shape and was then called one of the most beautiful woman in the sea. I mean COME ONE- a fucking punch, Oda?! more statistically speaking, Oda is making his characters follow the beauty standard, I realized this was accurate when Robin’s skin tone changed so drastically as well as Usopp’s, and really all of theirs did- we could have done without that. 

so back to the misogynistic aspect, Oda writes all of his character’s backstories the same, and they’re all awesome. also they typically all show power and fight, if he was a misogynist then I’m willing to bet we owuld get a lot more sorrow and weakness from the females, lots more battles fought exaggeratingly horrible and lost, or always being saved by the men (when in fact some of the men have been saved by the women). while we could do without so much “princess/female needs help saving kingdom/town/something” it’s not too bad. the fanservice is a bit extreme, I hate how they have to show so many bath scenes for the girls and how Nami usually has sideboob/boob in general showing, I find it kind of insulting myself but that’s only my self esteem issues- which I’m sure other people have and feel the same way, so you’re not alone if you do feel that way about it. and when Nami’s boobs tend to pop up from her top, I’m thinking of those scenes in the outfit she wore during the episodes she met Sanji’s brothers. and the fact that when she hugs people their faces go directly into her cleavage doesn’t need to be so drastically pointed out, we don’t need a close up or anything Oda but... thanks? 

one big thing that proves he’s not a misogynist is that a lot of high ranking characters are female; Portgas D. Rouge, Charlotte LinLin (Big Mom), Boa Hancock, Tashigi, Tsuru, Catarina Devon, Alvida, Jewelry Bonney, ect.

he also has a lot of powerful female characters that had large impacts on characters (ex. their mothers) such as: Kuina, Olvia Robin, Bell-mere, Nojiko, Toki, etc.

he also has a number of male characters that are extremely anti-misogynist like Sanji and Zoro as well as Luffy. while Sanji is slightly sexist, he shows no hate towards women, he literally worships them. Zoro and Luffy are much better example because they’re neither sexist or misogynist, neither have any problem fighting a woman. in fact Zoro hates that women are seen as weaker and his whole childhood ass well as life was impacted by Kuina who was trying to prove herself because she was a female and eveyone underestimated her and thought she couldn’t be/wasn’t a swordsman- Zoro expressed his anger at that because he doesn’t see why anyone would think that. and Luffy simply just couldn’t care less about what gender someone is.

so all in all, Oda is not a misogynist, his portrayal of female characters is sexist at most but he is no woman-hater.

[okitodorokidoki]

a28+34 | miyuki kazuya

pairing - miyuki kazuya x fem!reader genre - angst, fluff wc - 2121 ao3    -    author’s note at bottom

PROMPTS 28 “I care about you.” 34 “Please don’t do this.”

Looking back on your relationship with Miyuki, there were a lot of moments that were questioned by people on the outside. Moments that the two of you knew were teasing or joking were blown out of proportion by people who may have overheard, either from the two of you or someone else. Your relationship always felt like it was on a seesaw, the two of you on each end with the occasional hijacker dragging you down before the other was ready.

You lasted an entire year before you felt like you had to take a step back. You couldn’t even consider it a break in your relationship, it was really just a “I have a lot going on in my head right now and I would appreciate if I could just take a moment to myself to relax.” When that was over, you came to him with your sorted thoughts and talked things through. Miyuki had never seemed like the kind to be a good communicator in a relationship, but he seemed to realize that if he wanted the joy of tormenting someone, he had to take the responsibility of not chasing them away.

Now, on your final year in college, it finally felt like things were getting to be too much. You’d gotten through the high school fan girls, the injuries, the late nights, the bad rumors, the days with no updates outside of catching him in the hallways. But now, as you read the article written about how he was a prospective pick across the country, you finally felt like something was trying to take him from you. It had been smooth sailing, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t be torn apart by anything petty going on around you. But now, seeing a real-life decision he would have to make- one that would positively effect his life for years to come- you could feel the weight pressing down on your chest.

He was supposed to come by your dorm for movie night, but part of you wanted to text him to cancel. You knew it was childish, getting upset that he was such a good player that he was desired across the country, but that didn’t change the fact that you were upset. Looking over at your phone, resting innocently on your nightstand, you weighed your options for a moment, before remembering your occasional movie nights were some of the only times the two of you had alone together.

Closing the magazine, you picked up your phone and set the cause of your turmoil down. You were going to feel upset, and you were going to have movie night. One of those things couldn’t take a rain-check, so you figured you’d have to take a nice shower and shove your emotions down.

-

You dried your hair as you sat on the foot of your bed, waiting for Kazuya to show up. There were maybe five minutes left before you chose what movie you wanted to watch without him. Youtube was playing on your phone beside you, a random playlist of videos that always made you laugh when you weren’t feeling too hot.

The knock on the door was barely audible from under your towel, and your sheets nearly brought you to the ground as you stood too quickly. A brief litany of curses slipped as you rushed to the door, opening it to see you boyfriend.

“Miss me?” He asked with his usual grin.

You snorted and tugged him in by his t-shirt, watching his grin quickly disappear to give you a kiss.

“If I said yes, your head wouldn’t fit through the doorway.”

He snickered and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. “You didn’t pick out a movie without me, did you?”

“Yes. It’s a real tear-jerker, you won’t ever see love the same again.”

“Oh, porn?”

You grabbed a throw pillow as you passed the couch and tossed it expertly behind your shoulder. His snickering persisted through the solid ‘thump’ of it making contact, so you took a moment to curse his catcher’s instinct.

“You said you saw one you wanted to watch last time, right?” You asked, getting comfortable on your bed.

“Yeah, I added it to your watch later list.” He shut your bedroom door before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of your door.

“You better not have ruined my algorithm.”

“You don’t think that docu-series you watched at 3am instead of studying did enough damage?” He climbed on the bed, and settled in next to you, casually throwing an arm over your pillows for you to lean back into him.

“No, because that was exactly what I want to watch more of.”

It wasn’t long before the movie he’d chosen caught your eye, and you dimmed your bedside light before snuggling securely into his side as it began.

“This isn’t going to make me cry, is it?” You asked.

“Everything makes you cry.”

Your hand shot out, but he grabbed your wrist before your fingers could pinch into his side. “Ah-ah! This is sweet boyfriend-girlfriend time, no place for your meanery!”

“Kazuya, that’s not even a word, you bas-” his hand released your wrist to pinch your lips shut.

You glared up at him and he grinned, leaning in for a quick peck to your squished lips. Letting out a huff, you scrunched your nose at him before turning back to the tv. The introductory scene hadn’t even finished before you were adjusting, feeling a mild pinch in your lower spine from laying on your back.

“Aw, baby wanna cuddle?” Kazuya teased, holding you closer.

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

Another five minutes of movie passed, Kazuya’s hand rubbing your arm making you feel all warm and fuzzy, skin tingling pleasantly under his touch. The plot had begun, and you were already setting up three different endings in your head for the cheesy romance they were spinning.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” The main lead said to his girlfriend. “If I stay here with you for the rest of my life, what will I even become?”

That definitely threw a wrench into all three of your predictions.

“You said you loved me! That you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me!” She cried back. “Does your stupid job really mean more to you than I do?”

“You know that isn’t fair! I’m not leaving you, I’m just trying to move on with my life! Maybe you should do the same!”

The lame, admittedly unrealistic dialogue on screen felt like it was aiming to punch you in the gut. Everything you were thinking of before your shower came back, and you felt like you were manually keeping yourself breathing. Everything felt weighed down once more, and the hand gently caressing you was beginning to feel like it was burning. You suddenly raised your arm, throwing Kazuya’s off of you as you sat up.

“Babe?” He asked, starting to sit up with a concerned expression.

“I didn’t get drinks. Or snacks.” You got off your bed as casually as possible, trying to remember how to open a door like a human being so you could escape to the kitchen with little to no suspicion.

You opened your fridge, and leaned into the chill. It was a bit too much around your ears where your hair was just a little damp, but it felt like you needed it. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself before grabbing a drink from the fridge, gently closing it once more as you set your find on the counter. You glanced back down the hallway, your door was undisturbed from where you left it, cracked open just a bit.

You leaned against the counter, head bowing as you collected your thoughts. On a normal day, you’d just start telling Kazuya how bad the dialogue was, or how you would have framed the scene differently, but today all you could think of was how that scene would push its way into your life.

How would Kazuya start the conversation? You felt like he wouldn’t come in guns blazing yelling that it was his life, and he could do whatever he wanted. You hoped he knew that you would never try to drag him down or hold him back, that you would love and support him no matter how much it hurt to see him go. You put your hand over your face as you felt your eyes burning, willing your emotions to calm down before you started to look like you’d been crying. A slight touch at your back had you leaping, a ragged gasp tearing from your throat. You turned, eyes wide to see Kazuya standing there with an upset expression.

“Ah- sorry,” you said, turning back to making drinks. “Just got a bit of a headache.”

“Baby...” you froze as Kazuya’s arm slid around you, coaxing you closer. “Please don’t do this.”

You took a breath, prepared to find another cover-up, but nothing would come out. You melted into him, turning your head to press your forehead against his collarbone as his arms wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chin bumping your head. “I was honestly waiting for you to say something like ‘this dialogue is so forced’ or ‘if he loved her he’d talk with her and wouldn’t need to yell.’ I didn’t think you would be hurt.”

“I’m… I’m scared, Kazuya.” His arms tightened around you at your words. “I care about you. I’ve cared about you since we were in high school, and I knew nothing would ever happen to us because we were always there. Even when we couldn’t see each other, we were at least both on campus. But if you-”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from crying. This wasn’t something you wanted to cry over. This was his future, you were happy for him, you would stand by him through everything. But you wouldn’t be standing by him. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it to most of his games anymore, at least not for a while. One of his arms slid up to hold your head to his chest, and he started to sway slightly as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I want to move forward in life,” he said. “And I want to do it with you. I don’t care how far apart we are, we’ve made it through this much shit already. Besides, I hear doing it over facetime is-”

You throat constricted on a mix between a choke and a sob, Kazuya patting your back and laughing.

“Better?” He asked.

You nodded, turning your body to properly wrap your arms around him.

“I love you,” he said. “Don’t you ever forget it. I know I’m an ass, but do you think I’d pull my punches if I didn’t love you?”

“You pull your punches because you know I’ll make you cry, pretty boy,” You mumbled into his chest.

“Yes, yes, my ferocious little girlfriend knows all of my weaknesses.” He pressed another kiss to your head. “Now can she get us drinks so we can stay hydrated while we tear this movie apart limb by limb?”

You snorted, and pulled away wiping your nose pathetically with your sleeve.

“Can she also change her shirt before we cuddle again?”

“You’ve got more snot on you than I do, pretty boy!”

“Ah, your cutting words! How will I ever recover?”

You gave his arm a half-hearted swat as he turned to your pantry for snacks.

“But seriously,” he said over his shoulder. “Even if I get drafted halfway across the world, I’m tossing you in my duffel bag and taking you with me. There’s no way I’d survive all these self-centered pitchers if I can’t rest my head on my girlfriend’s thighs and let me woes escape me.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Kazuya. You were almost being sweet.”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you returned the gesture. Some things really hadn’t changed since high school, but as you curled back up to his side in your bed, tearing the characterization of the main lead to shreds, you realized that even if some things went away, they’d only make way for new ones.

“So, I know you didn’t seem to positive the first time I brought it up, but seriously, facetime can be an incredibly efficient method of-”

“Keep it up and you won’t get any methods.”

He snickered, placing another kiss to your head.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for over a month because I lost my banners 😭😭 I thought I’d come back to it when I found them but I completely forgot until now with everything going on. I've also never done an author's note on here before but I’ve felt weirdly,,, muted on my own blog so I hope you don’t mind I start doing them! I still like having nothing but the info at the top though so unfortunately I’m hiding myself at the End </3

[onewomancitadel]

One of my favorite aspects of ETL is seeing how the hero half's friends react to their being a couple... I think reading a lot of Austen and G Eliot at a young age turned me on to how delicious scandal can be @_@ Merc and Emerald being present for the Knightfall hug (!!) was everything to me. And thank you for linking the song that gave your story its name... I loved it! If only it had a full version :p

I think this is also your ask:

Oh and thank you for delaying the kiss (as well as the consummation and even the mere acknowledgement of the developing romantic dynamic) of their relationship. All romance is best when attenuated to the finest webs imo, and this tension in an ETL ship makes reading this fic genuinely make my heart race even when J & C aren't interacting haha

Omg I squeed at my computer receiving these asks. T_T We are clearly resonant with one another vis-à-vis romance. I was reared on Austen before I chewed through other classics so it was very formative - I am completely with you on social scandal, the part that gets me with Darcy/Elizabeth is the way her secret feelings cultivate whilst everybody still believes her to loathe him. Anything that toys with perspective gets me (I love unreliable narration, limited perspective), and especially any themes related to it too (see title of my fic lol) - particularly the idea of 'seeing and not just looking'.

I'm so glad you enjoyed that part especially with the hug XD XD I think it partially works (for me personally in constructing it) because Em and Merc see Cinder vulnerable in an emotional way. We can have our cake and eat it too :D also I wanted to very steadily build on other people perceiving the romance/interaction between them so we're not immediately thrust in coldwater, which is why I think the solitude of chapter 2 works (and I did try to calculatedly play with this increasing exposure).

oh and the song yes! I adore it because you have to search for it/wait for it to play at the end of the vinyl so it's more of that theming I really love lol. I love the gentle, twinkling sweet sound of it. I appreciate you listening and liking it too, I absolutely adore the song (and Purity Ring).

Oh and thank you for delaying the kiss (as well as the consummation and even the mere acknowledgement of the developing romantic dynamic) of their relationship

yes yes okay we're DEFINITELY on the same page lol, it's a very fine line to walk and I am *fingers crossed* hoping I'm stepping correctly, there is that inherent issue of unrealistically drawing out tension which I'm constantly cognisant of.

As it stands though I think their relationship is obviously weird enough and Cinder's only just brought up to him that welllll maybe it's not so bad :o) (meanwhile Cinder has been monologuing how much she fucking loves it lol) we can give them leeway. There are a lot of other character considerations for the two of them as it is.

Honestly I was worried it developed too fast. I had to spend time rereading the posted chapters and chapter outlines to convince myself to let chapter 7 happen as it happened - even chapter 6 - so then I had to inhabit the reader mindset a little bit. I obviously won't elaborate on what happens next (lol!) but I hope you enjoy it - I'm one for the slowest of slowburns. I hate when they kiss 'too early' lol - or at least when the romance is sort of solved early and then there's another conflict brought in quite late and potentially even too contrived (not knocking on the whole idea of third-act breakups). To me feelings/confession/resolution of the problem of having feelings is the overarching plot and not all relationships actually need third-act breakup, but have reasonable motivation for taking time to consummate, or even be acknowledged. But then one needs to write it well! I think ETL gives one much more space because overcoming personal (not structural) antagonism is essentially the first act. Sadly it's also skipped over a lot with ETL, both published and fanfic! But it's my favourite!!!!!!!!!!! Well one of my favourite elements... where they have personal conversations but also perceive each other as enemy. Cinder is trying so so hard to keep reminding him of that lol. (That, plus structural antagonism. There's personal feelings and then there's all the stuff that one is meant to do and be).

this tension in an ETL ship makes reading this fic genuinely make my heart race even when J & C aren't interacting haha

And omg that's the highest praise, truly T_T T_T yes the scenes where they're not interacting but still thinking about each other honestly get me..... I love that... and it's a love story, not trying to be canon or tell the show's story (though by necessity there's everything going on in the background and structurally I think the romance is significant re: Salem/Ozma) so I want that to be front and centre. Truly I cannot convey to you how happy these asks make me, as a fellow romance afficionado. My favourite things about romance are like... 1. the way it carries theme and character 2. the juiciness of intense feelings 3. eroticism 4. the fucking heart twinges!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you again for your ask T_T it made my afternoon truly. I hope you like the rest of the story, and if you liked that Purity Ring song, I can recommend so many more for the fic lol. <3 <3 <3

[aggresivelyfriendly]

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 2

Winter Wonderland

Hello loveys! Here is chapter two, a new year, a new world, a new Harry video! Thank you to @dirtystyles for fixing my tenses, which I promptly messed up by revising and adding. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Happy reading- reblogs are love!

Emma was annoyed before she even caught her flight, but she loved airports, so she got lost in watching the peculiar things people did in the there to sublimate what was probably just anxiety. She'd once watched a boys' trip, maybe a bachelor party, get on a plane and begin toasting at 5:30 am. The groom had almost bought the whole plane a round, but one of his mates had stopped him. She assumed this wasn't his first beer of the day, but maybe it was the last of the night before?

People acted different in airports.

That had been her first flight to Holland. When she went to her interview at Wageningen University and Research Center. She really needed to impress, she'd pressed her outfit more than she had ironed anything since she'd been taught to do it. This was her dream school and the climate research they did was groundbreaking and she wanted to be part of it so much that she was willing to do whatever it took. Beyond the heavy course load she could expect during the regular school years, the top students got amazing summer work or internships. She'd promised herself she would not be going home for breaks for some time. Honestly she was just fine with that. There wasn't much left for her in Holmes Chapel.

There wasn't much in Holmes Chapel at all.

She'd wanted to move from the little village the minute they'd moved there when she was eleven. Sure it was cute, picturesque and maybe something out of a Jane Austen novel, but Emma did not read much Pride and Prejudice. Though she definitely had seen Mr. Darcy come out of the pond. Honestly, she was more of a nonfiction girl, and she like investigative reporting. She'd missed London pretty much immediately and begged to go back for months. It was a time in her life she would have called the absolute worst, until it became the foundation for the best years. Emma made really good, motivated friends. Big dreams were common in little Holmes Chapel, so Emma fit right in. It may have never felt like home exactly, but she made a home of those friends.

Gemma was one of them. She had done her share of Austen reading. Reading in general, and she had the sweetest family. Her little brother Harry was so nice to their mum, though he loved nothing more than bugging Gemma. Like all little brothers. She'd heard at least, Emma was an only child.

All her parents' hopes and dreams rested right on her shoulders.

But theirs weren't nearly so weighty as her own. Even then she knew she was going to save the planet, or at the very least reduce the number of climate refugees.

Now, after two summers in Reykjavik, she was more into sustainable energy and zero waste production, but she was still trying to change the climate game.

She would really rather be going back to Iceland now. A friend had invited her to see the Northern Lights. They were most active in the winter and she'd only caught glimpses of them during her summer internships. It may have been the experience of a lifetime.

But her mother had laid on a major guilt trip. Emma hadn't been back to little Holmes Chapel in two years. She'd come home that first Christmas because she was tired, overwhelmed, still adjusting to her school schedule, and a little homesick. Her mother told her so. She'd even skipped the Twist's Christmas party, which was the shindig of the season. She'd slept right through it, and only seen Gemma at the pub later. She hadn't been up for company, but Gemma was family.

This year? After a year's absence, she'd be going. And she'd receive the hometown-hero-returns treatment. Though she was sure her reception at the airport would consist of her mum with a single sign. When she did make it to the pub, she might see a few friendly faces besides Gemma. Last time? Since she'd missed the party, she didn't have anything to contribute to the discussion. She'd just listened to everybody else rehash it. Normally, that would be fine, but she already felt removed, and had always felt a bit like a screw among nails in Holmes Chapel, so she was determined to go to the party this year. She had all kinds of plans, how many hours she'd socialize, rest, and read.

The flight was easy at least, and the train up to Manc doubly so. She liked to sleep on trains, something about the rocking, and she resumed her old habit of sleeping wrapped around her backpack.

"Welcome home, love!" Her mother shouted and Emma actually got a little misty, just like her Mum. Maybe she should try to get home more than once a year, but there's just so much she wants to accomplish. She even had a list. All the things she wanted to do before she turned thirty. It's been revised of course, she'd not unrealistic. Once the list is complete, she can have a life outside her ambitions, like a real boyfriend.

There's not much time for anything but hook-ups for the next ten years., and Emma was ok with that.

Up til now. She might need another pass at her bullet points, or to at least read her goals again when she got to the Twist's new brick beauty of a house. Harry had bought his mum a new home, one not watched as closely by his obsessive fans. They hadn't found this one yet.

Emma could see why they followed him around so, and why some people risked it all for a certain face. His face, his very famous, gorgeous face.

It was so weird that Harry wasn't just Gemma's little brother who grew up cute anymore. His music wasn't really her style, though some of the songs were catchy and Emma did like his latest album. She caught herself humming about life stories long after she heard it, and she seemed to hear his latest single playing in lots of shops and restaurants, even in Holland.

At the party, she also found herself in the same room as Harry more often than she can find an excuse for. Her eyes also seemed to find him a lot, she knew because of how many times she had to whip her head away quickly. As a tactic, that didn't work because he was always either already looking at her,or he immediately turned like he knews where she was. Maybe her gaze had weight, or she was as subtle as an axe.

When he smirked at her the tenth time their eyes lit upon each other, she choked on her wine.

What the fuck?

She'd finally got herself calmed from that little encounter. Mostly because she left the room to find a loo. The water she splashed on her face was cold and woke her up. "What are you doing, girl?" Emma asked her reflection but found that she couldn't help but smile at herself, and bite her lip. The flush on her cheeks was lovely; she could blame the wine, everyones favorite excuse.

An hour later she was pleasantly tipsy, the kind of buzz you could maintain and still wake up the next day not regretting, and she'd gone to the kitchen to grab another glass to nurse her merry state. "Be right back. We need another round!" She was calling back to Gemma when she bumped into a tall lanky body. She caught his hips with one hand and found them with just enough give to grip. "Oof!" She exclaimed before looking up to see how much damage her wine had done. Good thing she drank white, there was a growing spot ok his sweater. Wait a second! Then she coasted her head up the lovely lilac sweater toward his face. "That's my sweater." She said first off, bopping his chin.

"Um, no, mine now." Oh, his voice was adorably thick with drink too. "You give it to Gem or something?"

What was he talking about? Her eyes stayed with his and she was kinda trapped in his greens when she realized he meant the sweater. She had, right. "I'm yeah, years ago. Was my favorite and we shared it a lot. I decided she should have it before I moved. And I guess she decided you should have it when you moved. Though I expect your life change was a little different than mine. Yours was like overnight and mine a life long plan, and oh my god, Emma stop talking." She would have kept rambling except, well, he kissed her, right on the mouth and held his overfilled lips to her own. No, overfilled wasn't true. They were full, but not crazy big, they just were so plump at the edges. God, when had she thought about Harry's lips so much.

Right now, as much as she could think of anything, it was Harry's lips. She'd relaxed into his rhythm and was following his lead when her free hand took on a mind of its own and coasted from his hips up his back and into his hair. He groaned a little before he disengaged and then chuckled.

"Well," he said as the offending hand went to her mouth. Maybe she did need to stop drinking. That was bold, unlike her, and strange. But wait! What just happened? Why did he kiss her?.

"Huh?"

"I think that beat my last mistletoe kiss and I'd convinced myself that was impossible!" He was giving her a knowing look, like a wink in his smile. Did he kiss somebody else tonight? She looked up at him and tried not to be annoyed, or feel jealous, or focus on the shape of his mouth, still a little wet from her kiss. Was he just hanging out by the mistletoe like a weirdo? Seemed odd for a bloke people were lining up to meet, let alone kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She found her voice to ask. It was rusty, like she hadn't just been laughing and talking for hours with people she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.

"You bumped into me under the mistletoe. I assumed you wanted me to." Well, she did while he was kissing her, but now he was being a bit of an ass.

"Um, you were just in the way..."

"Well, I'll have to find myself in your path as often as possible then." Ok, that was cute, a bit cocky, like the smirk on his face. Then his face flushed and his dimples were so deep and she decided that shift, from smirky pop star to hometown mumma's boy was the best quick change she had ever seen. "Ah, see, that got you to smile!" He bopped her nose and she knew her own dimple pressed in even further.

"Nah, you're a little shit, but I like your smile. Especially when you blush." The color he turned then made her laugh out loud. She felt drunk when she realized how long they'd been staring at each other grinning. She was counting her drinks a second later when he caught her off guard again.

"Where'd you just go?"

"Wha'?" Oh boy, she'd dropped her t, she was really home now.

"We were having a moment." He motioned between their faces. "Then you went in your head. Lost your attention, didn't like it at all."

Then he caught her hand, their fingers entwined together like their lips moments before. It was hot in there. Emma shook her head and glanced around, but she didn't untangle them. She looked at her boots and felt shy. But Emma wasn't shy, Harry used to be shy, though now he was bolder than her, apparently.

"Listen," he started and she looked up to his eyes again. When had they gotten so attractive? What had gone on with him in the last couple years? Other than the international superstardom she supposed, but he'd grown into himself, like expanded his skin and presence. He was cute, but all she could think was that the end of puberty was rarely so damn kind. His fingers even seemed attractive, long and slim and she was imagining him playing piano, but then the instrument was her body, and damn, she was in her head again. She could feel that her eyes widened comically. She knew her pupils were blown. When was the last time she'd gotten laid? Apparently too long if holding hands had her imagining unspeakable things and holding in moans.

He smirked then, she guessed he knew where she went then. "Listen," he leaned in close and she nodded, their noses brushed. He exhaled and her lips tingled. "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?" She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.

He giggled, and it was cute enough that Emma felt a splash of awareness hit her face. She looked around to see if anybody saw them flirting if she could disengage her gaze. "Are you at your parents?"

"Oh, um yeah?"

"Are you sure?" He laughed then and the brush of his thumb across the back of her hand was warmer than the mulled wine in her belly.

"No, I'm sure, just not sure why you are asking." She nudged him and realized a bit too late that her nipples touched him first, she was only half sorry this top meant no bra when she felt the friction.

It was his eyes' turn to widen. "Um," he exhaled and she missed his eyes when he quickly glanced down her dress like there might be a cookie there and then up quickly like he remembered he wasn't supposed to have any sweets. "Ok, um," he said after he visibly took hold of himself, "I was just hoping you had a room above the pub or something."

She knew her face called him idiot better than her mouth could.

He rolled his eyes, "I know, it was a shot in the dark!"

"Did you expect me to slide you my room key if I did?" Emma flashed her eyebrows like she wasn't imagining him finger fucking her with his piano hands a moment ago. "Isn't that your move?" She teased, kind of. She imagined he knew his way around hotel rooms, and women in them.

"Heeeey," he was being cute but the corners of his eyes dropped a moment and the green dulled. "It's not like that."

Emma scoffed.

"Well, I mean," his other hand found hers and now if anyone was watching them they were getting a show. "If it was like that, I wouldn't say no, but just want to hear about Holland, seems so amazing, and where you are in the summers..."

She could see him racking his brain.

"Iceland." They said together. And then giggled together too.

"You been keeping tabs on me?" She leaned forward and enjoyed the brush of him on her again. He shivered.

"Yeah, always admired you." He looked at her through his lashes. "I'd like to hear more reasons you're the most impressive person I've ever met."

"But I don't have a place." She reminded him.

"If I got one?"

"What?" She thought she knew what he was asking, but she wanted a minute to think about her answer, to quiet the resounding YES that echoed in her body and her mind. Because he might have said it wasn't like that, but they were chest to chest and had been holding hands since they kissed moments ago.

He looks down chagrined at his pigeon toes, before his gaze lit on their hands, then her face. "If I got a room at the Vicarage? Would you come with me? Really! We can really just talk." He assured and then the cocky boy who found his stride in hotel room assignations showed out, "if you want." Those dimples were deadly.

"Can it be the Boar's Head?" She knew she'd showed her cards, by asking for a room the town over.

He nodded and grinned like he'd just hit the hotpicks. "It can be the Boar's Head." He nodded like a dashboard bobble head. "I have to make nice here a bit longer, but I'll call now, and put your name on, so you can go when you're ready."

They'd been standing close for just a few more seconds when Gemma said- "Harry! Get off. God you are such a flirt!" But she was in her cups too, so they laughed it off.

The next hour, Emma stayed near Gem, but her eyes tracked Harry. Once, he came by and stole a sip of Gem's cocktail off her and Emma was glad her friend's ire distracted her, because Emma was watching him giggle like a fiend and the contraction of his throat. When their eyes met, she knew hers made a promise. One she wanted to keep.

So now she was alone in a couple of quaint rooms a town over, waiting to have sex with Gemma's little brother, Harry Styles.

She was torn, half of her wanted to open the bottle she'd swiped from the alcohol table at the party. The other half wanted to call an Uber and go back to her parents' house, where she should have stopped and grabbed some clothes so she wouldn't have to do the walk of shame.

But getting clothes would have meant forethought; she will deny that, especially to herself.

Emma had just opened the uber app and cursed their rural area when she heard a key in the lock.

Like a gun at the races.

They were never going to just talk. She'd just dropped her phone on the couch before Harry laid the first kiss on her.

The first kiss she planned to really remember, that is. Their mistletoe kiss had caught her off guard enough that she could only remember the feelings, not the details.

Yet, she was here, kissing him in a rented room after sneaking out of his mum's Christmas Eve party, on the strength of those feelings.

The kiss started strong and sweet, just like she takes her tea. He didn't taste like tea, he tasted like wine, Merlot maybe, but it could have been any red. And his tongue had this delicious slither to couple with its intoxicating flavor. She was in for a penny when she rode over here, but now there was no way she was going anywhere but to bed with him, no matter how pound foolish. He was nipping at her bottom lip and mouthing at her jaw before he sucked an almost mark into her collarbone and love bites onto the sides of her neck. He was just about to hit a particular sweet spot while working off her clothes, his hands were at her zipper. The cheeky boy, and she felt like they should at least hit pause even if stop was off the table.

"Harry," she moaned, or breathed, it was a sound she'd never made before.

"Hmmm?" He asked without stopping any of his forward momentum.

"I thought we were gonna talk." That one was like a laugh, there was a trill in her voice certainly.

"We'll talk afterwards." He said it like a statement, but looked to her for confirmation. At her nod, her skirt dropped and his hands were all over her bare ass above the stockings she'd worn to feel sexy but hadn't expected anyone to see. She normally would have worn tights. Thick ones, certainly, in Amsterdam. It would have been smarter here too. It was at least as cold. She'd been feeling that mix of confidence and self consciousness one gets when seeing people from your past when you think you've leveled up. She wanted to feel her best, look her best. Sexy, even if no one was interested. She's thankful, both for his interest and her unintended preparation. When he caught the sides of her knickers while her shirt and bra were as untouched as his clothes, she figured she needed to get with it. She'd been clutching his shoulders and his gorgeous hair instead of doing anything of use to their current pursuit.

Emma pulled at his shirt until it came over his messed up disheveled hair and laughed at the hodge podge of black ink haphazardly spread over his torso and one arm. "What's this then?" She said between licks of his tongue.

"After, we talk after!" He'd gotten her shirt unwrapped. She liked that detail of the shirt too, a sexy secret, like her matching bra. He pulled back to stare and was distracted long enough for her to give him another look over. He does look sexy in his decorated skin.

"What do they mean?" She liked things to make sense, her world was ordered, scientific.

Harry shrugged. "Lots of different things. Or nothing. Now can we please go to bed and we can discuss my stupid tattoos after I've had you."

"Oh fuck,'' was all she could say to that. He smirked and hoisted her up his hips to carry her through the open frame to the bedroom. He pulled her knickers free as soon as she was done bouncing.

She'd just about caught her breath when she saw him go for the button of his jeans. She lost it again when his thick bulge became visible and he pushed his tight jeans forcibly down his thighs. "Damn!" She looked at him with a glint.

He mounted the bed and spread her open, kissed her right knee over her stocking, which he seemed intent in keeping on, and looked pointedly at her center. She was swollen, his eye contact with the evidence didn't help. "Damn!" He echoed and she would have laughed but Harry, Gemma's sexy little brother, was kissing up her right thigh, with just a few licks and nips to her hip creases and so damn close to where she wanted him before he was testing the fuck out of her by kissing and licking and loving her left thigh. Ignoring her desperate need.

"Fuck, Harry. Please." She'd got the bedspread balled in her hands and she would normally have removed that before considering getting into the bed but she was also usually in pajamas and alone.

The filthy things he was saying were way worse than whatever could have been on the bedspread. Though she enjoyed them a great deal more, and it made her happy to have taken off everything already.

Harry had finally gotten to the main course. Only After her begging got loud enough to be heard by the room next door and the innkeeper, she won't make eye contact with anyone tomorrow. Maybe not even Harry, if he stayed. Emma had his full attention now, she could learn about all the things his mouth could do. The wet flat of his tongue caressed her like she was a bit of deliciousness and sunk down to find her creamy center.

"Fuck!" She yelped when he sealed his mouth over her for a tight suck and rub until she was rolling and writhing and fighting against the arms banded around her thighs. He laid one across her belly to hold her down.

"Do you like that?" He kept going because her answer was obviously yes. When the arm not restraining her passion made its piano fingered way between her thighs to do the thing she'd imagined earlier, sliding in tightly where she was wet and wanting, she clenched down on his three fingers and said his name.

He slid up her body and reached for the condom, but Emma had gotten her head back around to stop him before he got it on. She hated the taste of rubbers, and she'd like to know his flavor first. "Wait." She leaned forward between his legs and stroked him base to tip. He really was well favored, and not just from the neck up. She pressed his length to his stomach and licked the seam from his balls around and up to his head before she got a mouthful of him. Now he was her dessert. She didn't even think to try the pies and things at the party, she had been so preoccupied with the taste she'd had of him. It was but an appetizer for this. He leaked on her tongue and she moaned and hummed.

"Jesus! Emma! Stop, I'm gonna!" He pushed her back. And she was a little mad he'd taken away her sweetie. "Enough. I'd like to get inside you."

That was a suggestion she could take. So, she lay back and thought of anything but England while he stroked his skinned cock and spat over the tip. God. The way his stomach flexed caused an aftershock to recapture her. "Harry?" His name a plea. His knees hit the bed and her heels pressed him toward her, toward them.

"God, I've never seen you like this!" She'd have to ask him what he meant by that, later. Then he nodded, using his thumb to press his cock head inside the tight ring of muscle at the top of her entrance. Except he was a little low.

"Uhh!" She glanced down and grabbed him to redirect. "Wrong one." She tried not to laugh.

"Sorry, might be a touch too eager." He confessed: She's now laughing, openly. "Hey! It may have went right in, as wet as you are?"

Now she'd be indignant if he wasn't so ridiculous. "Are you really complaining about how wet my pussy is?"

"No, no, that would make me an idiot right?" He asked and found the right spot to start pushing in.

This was always her favorite part, and since this was her favorite fuck already, she knew the pop when he got the lip of his head in would be enough to begin her tip over the edge.

She moaned even before he caught the exact right angle to square her desire and she clutched his back and lifted her bottom to chase his withdrawal. "It would, god, you're perfect, an idiot."

"Oh God, Em!" She liked that. And the kisses to her mouth and chin and neck. Messy and wet and out of control. He'd gone from deliberate and self possessed to a man overcome as he rolled his hips up and into her and against that delicious place inside.

"Harry, don't stop. I'm close." Her head fell back when he slowed down just enough to draw out her orgasm, bring it to the surface and ride it home. He stroked her through and then brought his hands under her ass to lift her pelvis up to his driving thrusts, more deliberate and direct than the ones he used to get her off. She watched his face scrunch, and then open, his jaw down and his eyes closed until he smiled and licked his lips.

It's that face she decided she wanted to see as much as she could.

And she did, it was made better when he bit his lip and laughed. "Am I a perfect idiot then?"

She was blissed out and couldn't stop herself saying, "no you're an idiot with a perfect cock!" He was just pulling out of her then, and she was so embarrassed when he stood up to tie off the condom and preened.

"Am I now?"

She was the idiot. "I'll Pay you to forget I said that!" Emma wants to scurry to the bathroom and get out of here. She's already feeling shame, may as well get the walk over with.

"I don't need any money." He's laughing now. Shes scooting to the restroom when he catches her hands and holds her close. "Where are you going. You owe me, you're gonna pay me in conversation."

Wait, he still wants to talk, even after they've done what they came to do. "Ok." Shes still a little embarrassed and pulling away.

"No, no, stay and talk, come back to bed and tell me about my perfect co—" she's clamping her hand over his mouth.

"Only if you shut up, and I have to have a wee first."

"After!" He begged. "I wanna hear about school and everything. What exactly you're doing to save the world."

"I'll tell you, I have to go after, prevents uti's and such." She hated being clinical, well right now.

"It does?" He asked and she nodded. "That's good to know."

She wants to be embarrassed, but his ease when she comes back from washing up, the way he is still naked and opens his arms to her, helping her find the right spot on top of him where they are both comfortable, it makes her less self conscious, about her little factoid, her nudity, or that she's essentially slept with him right off.

She sighs and is about to ask about the giant butterfly, moth, when he speaks. "Tell me about Holland, about school." His voice is like molasses, and her words come out as slow.

"It lovely, and school is so hard, some times I might as well move onto campus, live in the library-"

"You don't live on campus?" She shakes her head. "Do you ride your bike into town?"

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, you must send me a picture of you on your bike. In a dress." He wants to text.

"Then I want updates on any stupid tattoos you get!" She counters.

"You think my tattoos are stupid?" He pouts, and she's captivated by that face.

"Very." She kissed both sparrows beaks. "But their also sexy."

He likes that, his dimples say so. Then he asks about Iceland and they talk for an hour or more before she's over him, swallowing his moans. They have another go in the morning before leaving, he's hard to convince that she'll be fine with an Uber. If he drives her, it'll blow their cover.

She wound up in his suv anyway.

For the next week they snuck out to warm up the backseat of his Range Rover, her mother's kitchen counter, his childhood bedroom, and then the inn again the night before she left. Just for a few hours, she'd told her mum she was going to the pub to say goodbye to mates.

Their goodbye meant his face remained her go-to for the next year whenever she was alone in her room, at night, missing him.

"Can I have you again, next year? For Christmas?" He'd asked.

Who could say no to that?

She faced those plans unafraid, the ones they made, for the whole next year.

[darlingandmreames]

All the Freedom in the World

(also on ao3)

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

Arthur laughed, the question surprising him. “Me? No. Not really my thing.”

“I used to think the same thing.” Mal grinned at him over her drink. She usually loved gin and tonics, but tonight it was just tonic. Had been for a couple weeks now, and Arthur was starting to wonder. “Told myself I was never going to let myself get tied down like that. I was never going to marry, never going to have kids, never going to have one of those white picket fence houses I’d always hated growing up.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. Sounded like a perfectly good plan to him. “So what changed?”

Mal shrugged. “I met someone.” She looked out across the room to where Dom was chatting up a group of military officers. He excelled at dinners like these, dialing up the charm to a nearly unbearable degree and getting everybody in the room to like him. Mal leaned her elbow against the table and rested her head in her hand, watching Dom with a fond look. “Sometimes you meet someone so wonderful that the thought of not having them in your life just feels wrong. All of those plans I’d come up with for my life, the things I was going to do and see and experience all on my own, changed after I met Dom. I still wanted to do them, of course, that didn’t change. But the thought of doing them alone, doing them by myself, lost its appeal. I wanted to do them, but I wanted to do them with him. It didn’t feel like being tied down anymore, not if it was with him.” She looked back at Arthur with a small smile. “Maybe it won’t change for you, who knows. But don’t discount the fact that it might.”

“Hm. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” Arthur took a drink. What Mal was describing certainly sounded nice and he could see how much she loved Dom. How much they both loved each other. The idea of finding that level of happiness in another person, though, didn’t strike him as something he was likely to find. And despite her reassurances to the contrary, it still sounded to Arthur a hell of a lot like being tied down and he couldn’t think of anything worse. What they did allowed for so much more freedom than Arthur had ever dreamed of, and the idea of giving that up- giving it up for one person- sounded both unpleasant and incredibly stupid. “Still don’t see it happening, though. Not for me, at least.”

“Maybe.” Mal leaned back in her chair, going back to watching Dom. “You never know. Sometimes things change, even when you don't expect them to.”

XXX

“D’you ever think about getting married?”

Arthur could hear the alcohol in Dom’s voice. He was speaking slowly and slurring his words, vowels and consonants blurring into each other with little differentiation. Arthur wasn’t sure how long he’d been here at the bar before Arthur’d found him, but he was starting to think it had been quite a while. “Never really something I thought about much. Didn’t have much reason to.”

Dom nodded, picking his glass up and downing half of it in one go. “I knew I’d marry Mal. Knew as soon as I met her. She was-” he paused, hiccupping slightly, “she was perfect, you know? Happiest day of my life was when she said she’d marry me. Told her I’d dreamt…dreamt we’d…that we’d grow old together and…”

Arthur rested his hand gently on Dom’s arm, recognizing the waver in his voice. He’d rushed to the states as soon as he’d heard what happened, abandoning the job he’d been working on, and when Dom had fled the country, Arthur had followed him. They’d been country hopping for a few weeks now, trying to stay out of reach of the authorities. Arthur had taken it upon himself to take care of the logistics, figuring out where they could go and how long they could stay in a place before they needed to leave. Dom had more than enough to occupy his mind without having to think about any of that.

Dom finished off the rest of his drink with a grimace. “How could…how could she do this, Arthur? How could she do this to me? To our children? I don’t…” He dropped his head, voice breaking slightly. “I miss her, god I miss her so fucking much.”

“I’m sorry, Dom.” There wasn’t any comfort in the words, not really, but Arthur didn’t know what else to say. He’d seen grief before, but never like this. The pain in Dom’s voice, in his expression and posture and actions, was almost frightening. Horrifying. Mal’s death had hit Arthur too; she’d been one of his closest friends, more family than anything else, and losing her left a gaping hole in his chest that he wasn’t sure how to fill. But it was different for Dom. He’d lost his world when Mal had jumped, lost a part of himself that Arthur knew he would never be able to replace. It frightened him, honestly, to see that pain. It was something he couldn’t quite understand and he hoped to god that he never did. Love like what Dom and Mal had had wasn’t worth it if it came at this cost. He kept his hand on Dom’s arm, trying to provide whatever little comfort he could as Dom’s shoulders shook. “I’m so, so sorry.”

XXX

“You ever think about getting married?”

“No.” Arthur didn’t even bother looking up as he answered Ariadne’s question. 

“You didn’t give that much thought.”

Arthur shrugged, still focusing on the documents in front of him. This mark had extractor training- Arthur was near obsessive about checking and double checking for that ever since the Fischer job, and it had paid off this time- and there was quite a bit of information for him to go through. “I don’t have to. It’s not something I’m interested in. Never have been.”

“Can I ask why?”

Arthur paused briefly before looking up. “Are you actually curious, or are you just trying to avoid doing work for a bit?”

Ariadne laughed a bit sheepishly. “Both?”

Arthur stared at her a moment longer before sighing slightly. She’d been working diligently for several hours, so he supposed a small break wasn’t the worst idea. “It’s just never been something I saw myself doing. And it’s certainly not common among extractors. This field doesn’t exactly lend itself to long term relationships. Or to healthy ones.” He shrugged again. “Working as an extractor means constantly moving. City to city, country to country, job to job. You don’t get attached. You don’t have the time to and, even if you did, attachments are dangerous. They make you vulnerable and weak. So most people in this area avoid them.”

Ariadne raised her eyebrows. “That’s a pretty cynical view of things.”

“It’s a realistic view of things.”

“Maybe.” She leaned back in her chair. “Still, wouldn’t it be nice? To find someone you could share this with? I mean, maybe I’m just still new to this and naive, but that sounds a lot better than spending your life alone.”

Arthur was about to answer- to tell her that that alone, in his opinion, was the best thing someone could be in this field- when Eames wandered into the room. It was far warmer here in Manila than it had been on their last job and Eames was thriving, wearing a different short sleeve paisley shirt every day, each more hideously garish than the last. Arthur’d been surprised when he’d agreed to keep working with them as Arthur’d looked for jobs where he could continue teaching Ariadne the ropes and get her acquainted with the field more broadly, but Eames had agreed with nothing more than a smile and a casual of course, darling. At the end of each job Arthur kept expecting him to finally jump ship but, six months and five jobs in, he seemed perfectly content at least for now to continue following them. And as much as they bickered and disagreed at times, Arthur couldn’t help but admit that it was a bit nice having a familiar face on each job. Someone he trusted. 

Eames noticed Arthur watching him and winked. Arthur looked down, frowning, and tried to ignore the slight heat in his cheeks. “Alone is what this job requires. Anything else is unrealistic.” He started to go back to sorting through the documents but paused, considering Ariadne’s question again. “Though I suppose it might be nice,” he finally admitted. “Unrealistic, but nice all the same.”

XXX

"You ever think 'bout getting married, mate?"

Arthur looked over at Yusuf with a slight frown, his eyes taking a second to focus. He'd just finished a job in Nairobi and decided to stop by Mombasa to visit before heading off to Milan for his next job. Yusuf had been his usual excitable self and was happy to see him, offering to make them both drinks. Arthur had agreed- which was a terrible idea, he should’ve known better than to let the chemist make drinks- and now they were both sprawled out on Yusuf's couch, piss drunk. Arthur knew he'd regret this in the morning, but his inevitable hangover was a problem for future him. "Bit of a random question."

Yusuf shrugged. "One of my childhood mates got married a few weeks back and it got me thinking, that's all. Not really a common thing in our field, is it? Well, 'cept for Cobb and Mal I suppose, but that, uh," he frowned, "that's maybe not the best example."

"Mm." Arthur hummed in agreement, taking a drink. "Really isn't."

"You ever think about it though?" Yusuf looked over at him. "'Bout getting hitched? You know, if you met the right person or whatever."

Arthur paused, trying to focus on the question. After a moment he shrugged; giving it serious thought wasn't something he was particularly capable of at the moment. "Dunno. Maybe. If it was the right person."

"Yeah I guess it would really depend on-oh! That reminds me!" Yusuf sat up excitedly, swaying slightly as he leaned forward, grinning. "I heard a bit of a rumour."

Arthur raised his eyebrows, staying where he was. The room was spinning already, he didn't need to make it worse by moving. "Oh?"

"Mm. 'Bout you and a certain forger." If Arthur had been more sober, he would've thought up some excuse, some way to talk around the subject, or maybe even simply have denied it outright. But he was very, very much not sober. So instead he just grinned at Yusuf over his glass. Yusuf pointed at him with a disbelieving and somewhat exasperated look. "I knew it! I fuckin' knew it!" He flopped back against the couch cushions, swearing as he spilled some of his drink on himself. "Knew you two had a thing for each other!"

"Fuck off, you worked one job with us."

"Yeah, and you two spent the entire time flirting."

"We were not flirting. I don't think." Arthur frowned, thinking back. Had they been flirting? "Okay, maybe we were a little."

"You were definitely flirting, mate," Yusuf laughed. "So you guys are, uh…?"

"Yeah, couple months now." Arthur gave another small shrug. "It's nice, you know? Having something more than a fling or a one night stand. I like it. Like him." He smiled, mind drifting to when he'd see Eames next. He was working the Milan job as well; neither one of them had outright said it, but he knew they'd both agreed to take the job mainly so they could see each other. It was a small thing, but something about it made him happy every time he thought about it. After a moment his mind caught up with what his mouth had said and he pointed at Yusuf, giving him the most serious look he could muster. "This stays between us."

Yusuf held his hands up in mock surrender. "Not a word." He watched Arthur with a small smile. "I'm happy for you, though, mate. Really. You guys are insufferable together, but in a…in a sweet way, ya know?"

"Fuck off." Arthur took another drink, trying to hide both his grin and the rising heat in his cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

XXX

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

Arthur accepted the cup of coffee from Miles gratefully. He and Eames had only gotten in the night before and the jet lag was starting to catch up to him. He took a small sip, ignoring the fact that it was still far too hot to drink. Even a tiny bit of caffeine was worth a burnt tongue. “Sometimes.” He shrugged. “It’s complicated though. It’s not legal for us in a lot of places. Hell, even here in the states it’s a crapshoot half the time.”

Miles sat down across from him at the table with a mug of his own, raising his eyebrows. “Legality has never seemed to be much of an issue for you in the past.”

“Fair enough,” Arthur laughed. “This is…this is different though, you know? If we were going to do it, I’d want to do it right.” He shrugged. “There’s a lot that would have to go into it, and honestly, I’m not sure it’d be worth it. Might just end up being more effort than a simple piece of paper is worth.”

“It’s not just a piece of paper.” Miles watched him over his coffee. “That may be all it is physically, but there’s more to it than that.”

“I guess so.” Arthur’s gaze drifted to the dining room. Eames was seated at the table there with Philippa as she drew. She’d given him a sheet of paper and coloured pencils of his own and he was sketching something, pausing every once in a while to look over at what Philippa was drawing with a wide smile and encouraging comment. It was a sweet sight; both James and Philippa had taken to Eames immediately the first time he and Arthur had visited Dom,  and he’d quickly become known as Uncle Eames. He was good with them, kind and patient and just enough of a troublemaker to cement himself as their favourite uncle. Eames looked up, catching Arthur’s eye and giving him a soft smile. It was the sort of smile he seemed to reserve solely for Arthur, with a gentle fondness that wasn’t in any of his others. The look sent warmth spreading in Arthur’s chest like it always did and he smiled back. “Maybe it would be worth it. I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Miles had fixed him with a knowing look by the time Arthur looked back over and Arthur took another sip of too hot coffee, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I suppose you’ll just have to keep thinking about it.”

“Yeah.” Arthur looked back at Eames. “I suppose I will.”

XXX

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

The question broke the quiet pre-dawn silence around them. Arthur wasn’t quite sure what- if anything- had prompted him to ask it. The topic had certainly been on his mind recently- increasingly so, actually- but he hadn't quite intended to ask it. At least not right now. He didn’t feel any panic or surprise as his brain caught up to the words, though. Maybe he should’ve, but he didn’t. Instead he simply nestled further against Eames’ side, seeking out a bit more warmth. They were both wrapped in several thick blankets to stave off the early morning cold and the cup of coffee in his hands helped somewhat too, but neither of those things could quite compare to the feeling of Eames’ body heat.

Eames paused briefly before chuckling. “That’s quite a question for not even 6am." He shifted slightly, making room for Arthur. “I do, yeah. Especially now." He seemed to hesitate. "Do you ever think about it?"

"I never used to." Arthur rested his head in the crook of Eames' neck, staring out at the mountains in the early morning light. He'd always loved the mountains around Lucerne and this hotel had a phenomenal view of them, the balcony facing the snow capped peaks. Eames had been the one to suggest they watch the sunrise this morning, and Arthur had been all too happy to agree. "I never wanted to get married. Always said it wasn't for me. I thought it sounded like such a terrible idea, giving up freedom for one single person. I couldn't imagine myself ever doing something like that. I remember telling Mal that, and she told me that sometimes you met someone who made it worth it." He smiled softly at the memory. "I thought she was full of shit." Eames laughed quietly and Arthur reached across his lap until he found Eames' hand under the blankets, intertwining their fingers. "I think I understand better now what she meant though. Because I did meet someone who makes it worth it. And that freedom I was so set on never giving up? It doesn't mean anything anymore if it's not with you."

Eames paused again, going still. "Arthur, are you asking me to marry you?"

Arthur considered the question for a moment. "Yeah. I think I am." He smiled, the realization dawning on him. That was exactly what he was doing. "I love you, and all the freedom in the world isn't worth it without you beside me. So I'd like to be your husband, if you're okay with that."

Eames shifted, tilting Arthur's chin up with his fingers. Arthur followed the movement easily to find Eames watching him with an expression gentler than Arthur had thought possible. There was such love in his face that Arthur briefly wondered if he'd somehow died during the night and woken up in heaven. "Darling, there is nothing in this world I'd want more." 

Arthur smiled wider and closed the space between them with a kiss. Mal was right: some things really did change. And that was okay.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟒)

part three

note - i wanna thank everyone for reading once again! i'm currently in the process of writing imagines, those will be posted throughout the week, i don't want to clog up my blog bc i want y'all to see this chapter!

this one switches pov a lil more frequently, so bear with me <3 also not as smutty as other chapters, this is more of an emotionally-charged chapter!!! still a teensy bit smutty thooo. i want to make it clear that while this fic is definitely rooted in smut & sex & sex work, it is not porn without plot & will not ONLY be smut as i put effort and time into plot development / character development! i'm sure y'all know that tho. there will be conflict, there will be plot!!! i feel like that's clear already but there's discourse on smut happening rn and i wanna voice myself! omg anyways luv y'all enjoy the reaaad <3

new taglist!

playlist

word count - 8.3k

warnings - age gap, sex work, smut, vibrator, ANGSTYYY like hella dramatic, dirty talk

That slight shift that you and Steve both felt, that happiness that you realized came from talking to one another, only lasted so long... for you. You could hardly sit in your feelings about your situation with Steve before another thing that occupied all your time came crashing down upon you. Except this time, the thing brought you no such happiness or curiosity.

    You had spent almost your entire senior year working on a special lab project about drought tolerant plants in Southern California where you lived and went to school, and your professor was making completing your project incredibly hard for you. And you felt incredibly stressed out about the entire situation - not only was the project necessary to graduate, but it was your heart and soul for the past year. Now, your professor was basically saying it was "ineligible."

     "Ineligible?" Aaliyah repeated after you, after you told her what your professor had said.

     "Whatever the hell that means," you huffed as you power walked down the street, hand in hand with Aaliyah, your free hand holding a coffee.

     "That's so fucking annoying, holy shit," Aaliyah pressed a hand to her forehead. "He had the whole year to talk to you about changing your topic and...”

     "And he never did," you sighed, frowning. You settled down onto a bench where the two of you sat next to each other, staring out into the busy streets and sipping your iced coffees.

California was a beautiful place, and you were a native, you'd lived there all your life. You knew the ins and outs of your city, knew Southern California like it was your backbone. And you loved it here - loved the sun, the beaches, the way the people were either shady in the best way or incredibly friendly. You'd never really known any other place like you knew this place. You were just glad that if you had to be stressed, you could do so in California.

Aaliyah pouted, feeling for you. She placed her hand on your knee to be comforting,

     "Babe..."

     "It's okay," you sighed. You sucked it up, like always, because you had learned how to fend for yourself ever since you realized that depending on others could only lead to downfall. You would figure this out the same way you figured everything else out... on your own. You figured out your house on your own, your job, your finances.

     "Is it, though?" Aaliyah pursed her lips and squinted at you. Despite how much you tried to fend for yourself, Aaliyah was always there for you. She was one of your biggest supporters.

     "I'll just keep visiting during his office hours and work this out."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes,

     "Men are so annoying, girl. You know what, he probably wants to fuck you. With your fine ass. That's why he's doing all this."

You chuckled, shaking your head and covering your mouth, trilling back in response,

       "Okay girl, don't get too ahead of yourself."

       "I'm serious! Men are evil. Oh, except your fave."

You made a face, nearly choking on your iced coffee. This was news to you,

       "Who are we talking about?"

       "You know," Aaliyah sang slightly, nudging you and leaning against your shoulder. "Mr. Won't Show His Face."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but bit down on your straw with a knowing smile, eyes peeking out over the top of your shades. If you were being honest, this idea of Steve, whoever he really was, had been a fun thing to entertain during this period of stress. You'd been talking and engaging with him for two and a half weeks now, and the connection you two had was undeniable.

But you knew better - maybe he wasn't just another customer, because you could really talk to him and felt like he was real - then again, he was strictly a customer. You liked him, a lot, but you couldn't like him any more than you already did. That would be dangerous and silly, and create unrealistic expectations. It wasn't like you could go on dates or anything.

    Still, talking to him (and performing for him) did help to distract you from your stress, at least for a small amount of time. Steve was becoming less shy, less inhibited. He cracked jokes and was starting to keep up with your innate sense of sexuality, starting to navigate you, find you the way a bee might find its nectar, hidden deep inside the curvatures of a flower.

If you were a flower, you'd probably be a sunflower - bright, yellow, almost always in a positive mood, or at least trying to keep yourself in a positive mood. More than that though, sunflowers were tall and looming - you felt like that represented your put togetherness and how hard you worked, how smart you were. Only sometimes it was hard to keep yourself up and tall, but you always did it, time and time again.

But when it came to Aaliyah's comments about Steve, she mostly just made you laugh.

    "Haven't seen him yet, have you?" Aaliyah asked, raising her brows expectantly.

     "No. And I'm fine with that. He's simply another very loyal customer who I happen to like."

     "Hm," Aaliyah hummed, and you could tell her mind was up to something - some very wishful, and mischievous thinking.

     "What are you up to?" you narrowed your eyes at her and glared at her, and she just shook her head with a lazy smile,

     "Nothing. Just thinking that maybe it would be cool if he really was this really hot guy that you actually knew and he wasn't creepy and y'all... you know... started dating. Just to get your mind off a lot of crap. I know, I know, strictly against the rules, blah blah blah. No feelings for customers, it's basic shit. But in a perfect world..."

      "I know," you sighed without thinking, sipping at your drink.

     "You know?" Aaliyah questioned, surprised.

You shrugged,

     "So I've thought about it. Except, you know, in a perfect world, I'd meet a guy like Steve in like, a farmer's market or something. Not on my shady ass cam shows."

Aaliyah snorted laughing, and at the sound of her laughter, you joined in.

You continued,

     "I mean, not Steve exactly, because that would be weird. I just mean, a guy like Steve."

     "You mean a guy who makes you feel the same way he makes you feel," Aaliyah corrected you, and you glared at her again, pushing her gently.

     "Don't push it," you teased, but you meant it - you might have liked Steve, but that was all there was to it - you liked him, he was a distraction. And maybe even that was too much.

✺ ✺ ✺

As for Steve, he thoroughly enjoyed his time with you. He thought constantly about how you made him feel, how much he looked forward to talking to you. How everyday, his worry about your situation becoming more serious dissipated slowly. He could feel himself easing into you, everything that made up this character you created called Moonrose. Conversation seemed casual, like you knew each other in real life, it felt easy, and there was no pressure.

As for your connection, he had finally acknowledged that it was real, and more than either of you had wanted to realize at first. But now, there was no shame, no worry in acknowledging what the two of you had, because you were both smart enough to keep it at this level. It was like a shallow pool. There would be no drowning.

He mostly talked to Bucky about you when it came to the emotional aspect of it. He still feared that if he talked to Tony, it might come across as an issue, and might put a pause on what he had with you. But everyone noticed how different Steve was acting. Even without the phase he had gone through where he was sexually frustrated and angry, he still acted different.

Lighter on his feet, more smiley. And he was always on top of his work. You weren't distracting him from his duty, so that made the fact that he knew you had a unique connection with him more bearable. Because of you, he was learning to worry less. To have a little more fun.

    It was a bright day that week, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the meeting room where everyone was gathered. Steve was engaging in some mindless conversation with Sam and Bucky in which they were debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

     "No. I'm not sure why everyone keeps trying to put all these twists on pizza. It's pizza," Bucky scoffed, Sam rolling his eyes as a result.

    "You're just closed off. With your old ass," Sam retorted, and Steve made a face. Sam raised his hands up in surrender. "You know what I mean. What about you Steve?"

Honestly, Steve had never even tried pineapple on pizza and he didn't understand why there was such a big fuss about the banal question.

    "I don't really have an opinion," he shrugged, not expecting Sam and Bucky to start clamoring over him and trying to force him to pick a side.

    Before he even got to grasp the situation, he felt Natasha patting his shoulder,

"Hey, mind if I use your laptop? Mine's gone haywire, don't really feel like messing with it right now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed without a second thought, setting his laptop on the table and letting Natasha handle it- she was better with tech stuff than he ever was.

Natasha would use his laptop to showcase some data and start off their morning. It seemed innocent enough —a simple, barely impacting sacrifice. But Steve clearly hadn't thought everything through, because the moment Natasha logged in and hooked up Steve's computer to the holographic projector, more than just data appeared on the screen.

In fact, a whole array of women, all of them engaging in various sexual acts or preparing themselves to, showed up on the screen. And at the top, where the browser was, were the words "girlsonfilm.com."

Steve hadn't noticed all the clamor, too busy thinking (thoughts of you and thoughts of work), until Bucky called it to his attention.

"Steve," he nudged him frantically, his voice a loud whisper.

When Steve looked up at the screen, his face couldn't have gone any redder. He hadn't thought about this at all, and he had clearly forgotten to close out his browser. His heart sunk all the way to his stomach - because it wasn't just Natasha seeing this, it was everybody. And that included Tony, who was glaring pointedly at Steve from the head of the table. Meanwhile, all the others were too busy heckling Natasha and making brash comments about what was appearing onscreen. To Steve's relief, your face didn't show up, but this just might have been worse than only your screen appearing.

     "Woah, Nat, I didn't know you got down like that!" Sam hooted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Natasha, though she was in shock as well, rolled her eyes,

     "This is Steve's laptop."

Now a hush, then another clamor of confusion and heckling, all directed towards Steve. He couldn't recoil any more, feeling the pangs of embarrassment as his eyes flashed between every one of his teammates. He felt as if there were an asteroid approaching fast, and he was right where it would land, too slow to move out of its way.

     "Steve, what do you know about 'girls on film'?" Sam nearly cackled, reading the name of the site.

Steve sighed deeply, locking eyes with Natasha as he mouthed "turn it off" to her.

     "I am, I am," she ensured him, quickly disconnecting the laptop from the projection, unplugging completely.

A beat passed, everyone staring expectantly at Steve, who was staring down at the table, trying to process his own thoughts. Like for starters, why didn't he log out the last time, and why didn't he remember to log out? And then his mind went to deeper places. He hadn't been intentionally secretive with his actions, but he had been intentionally private. It had to do with his own growth, he was learning how to navigate a world that was new to him and somehow helping him at once. He didn't want to have to share this with everyone, it was nice having this to himself, he had no intentions of revealing what he had been doing in his past time that made him so happy.

One of the reasons he didn't want everyone to know about his situation was because he didn't want to have to be concerned with what everyone else might think. Because to begin with, being on a site for cam shows wasn't exactly everyone's idea of what Captain America might be up to these days.

It was a matter of his image, what values he was supposed to hold. This didn't exactly match, and Steve had just gotten over the idea that he was a bad, sneaky person because of what he chose to indulge in. At least here he knew it was ethical and not causing harm to you as a human being.

He also didn't want to have to deal with the insufferable questioning and teasing his team would put him through, or the judgment he thought they might put him through. He felt embarrassed, exposed, and like he had been ill prepared for a situation like this. He was just grateful they hadn't seen more, because that would've been a disaster. What they had seen was only at the surface level of what he'd been doing.

But his thinking was interrupted by Tony's voice, which broke through all the silence, and made Steve realize again the eyes that were on him.

     "Well, jig's up," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Care to explain?"

Steve locked eyes with Tony, as if hopeful that he wouldn't have to, but he knew it was best for him to just spit it out. Tony shrugged apologetically, and Steve took in a deep sigh, looking around at everyone at the table.

     "What was that?" Scott whimpered, probably the most distraught by what they had all seen.

Steve nodded solemnly and began to explain himself. He would tell the truth, but that didn't mean he had to tell them everything. You would be left out of this, if anything. He'd just explain to them that sometimes, duty calls - and sometimes, it's not at all work-related.

✺ ✺ ✺

It was just hours before your cam show when another disaster struck, the first one being the fact that your professor was giving you shit about your project. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for your show, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup, laying out an outfit, doing all the things you did to feel pretty before a show.

    Your phone lay beside you on the bathroom table, pinging with messages every now and then. You ignored it, leaning closer into the mirror to get a look at your lipstick, dabbing your fingers into the pigment on your lips.

You smiled, feeling that gratifying sense of achievement. Despite what was going on with your professor, you felt like you were doing well in life. You usually had a positive mindset, enjoyed your work although you sometimes felt as if you were buried deep in all your occupations: student, office worker, cam girl, designer, young woman. Your life was never dull, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. Talking to Steve helped too, but it was more than that.

But that sense of satisfaction all seemed to dissolve when you looked down at your phone, and saw a text from an unsaved number, glaring bright on your glowing lock screen of you hiking with Aaliyah. Still, you recognized it immediately.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I miss you. Text me back.

✺ ✺ ✺

Steve wasn't exactly keen on joining your live show today, but he did so anyway, because he still had time to himself despite the spiral of events that had happened earlier. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to miss out on you after attending almost all of your shows for the past almost three weeks. Didn't want to just leave unexpectedly.

It felt strange that he felt this tug of commitment, but he brushed it off. He was just fulfilling his needs, which should even be expected of him. He was stressed again, after being caught up like he was. And maybe that was all the more reason not to watch your show tonight, but he wouldn't devoid himself of the simple pleasures of life. He'd learned that lesson a while ago, from a special someone called Moonrose.

After everything transpired, he explained himself calmly to his team, slowly to ensure that they'd understand that this wasn't the beginning of a deviant phase, that he wasn't throwing away his work responsibilities to lurk on the NSFW side of the internet. Not that they ever thought that to begin with, they never questioned his abilities or his authority for a minute, not even in the midst of what they'd seen that had shocked them.

This was the product of Steve's own insecurities and his admittedly silly fear that he was somehow letting his team down. He told them that he was on the site, as recommended by Tony, to relieve some "frustration" that he felt he didn't have the time or the means to release in real life. He said that while it had helped him do that, he wasn't throwing away his responsibilities, nor was he dependent on the site or the things on it, or the people on it for that matter.

He knew that if they knew about you, all those private sessions, all those conversations you'd had, the connection you had built between the two of you, it might be a different story. But because they didn't, they appreciated his honesty. They were confused, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Steve would be into, and he ensured them that it was a shock to him as well.

But they didn't mind on the whole, it was just a shock to everyone at first. They didn't think it called for a meeting, thought it was almost humorous how serious Steve was being about such a trivial situation. Wanda had joked about how we've all been there, Thor denied ever having to do such a thing because: "I have all the romantic partners anyone could ask for. I could introduce you Steve, but these Asgardian women are fiery, far beyond anything I believe you could handle." In the end, Steve was relieved, felt like it didn't have the disastrous outcome he'd been expected.

But he could feel his guard slowly coming back up. That was a close call, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't want to disregard you, but he couldn't afford to sink further in, and get his team involved. He just didn't want to face the consequences he could imagine if they knew how much he decided to stick with you, how much you talked, how it was teetering off the range of normal customer to cam girl interaction.

It wasn't like he was careless when it came to his interactions with you, but he also didn't want his team to know about his business when it came to you. He didn't want them thinking he was engaging too much, didn't want it to get to the point where he was worrying again or felt like he needed to deny himself such wonderful feelings.

All these things were on his mind while he waited for your live show to start. When it did, and he saw your face, he felt a little bit alleviated. Just for now, he could have this fantasy to himself. If they knew about the site, so be it. At least he had you to himself.

      "Hey guys," you mustered a smile, waving to the camera.

Unbeknownst to your viewers, you had spent the past few hours off camera panicking, on the verge of tears, calling Aaliyah frantically so she could help calm you down. That text from that mysterious unknown number had been from your ex's number. The same ex who made you fall into dependency patterns that you worked so hard to get out of, the one who made you feel like you had to work for his love. Like it wasn't something you deserved, just like anyone else.

You had worked so hard to finally wring out all the effects of him, all the bad habits you had fallen into because of him. That was part of the reason why you worked so hard. Not because you were actively avoiding him specifically, but because you were actively bettering yourself. You weren't looking for a relationship. But you knew that if you were in one now, the same things would never happen to you.

When you got that text, it triggered a flood of memories. Feelings you had to work to suppress and actually get over for months so you wouldn't fall back into the same desperate, needy patterns when it came to your relationships with people. All over a simple text from someone you hadn't heard from in almost a year. It hurt you how easy it was to get you to crack, even if you didn't spill out all the way. But on top of the added stress because of school, you were damn close.

You would do the show tonight, anyway. It helped you to escape, although Moonrose was a part of you, it didn't one hundred translate into real life. So in a way, this helped you escape real life. Just for a while. Just like Steve.

You grinned when you saw concerned comments from your watchers:

johnGuy182

Are you okay, moonrose? You seem a little sad.

zenongirl

Girl r u ok? i missed seeing your face!!!

     "Guys, I'm okay," you grinned. And you actually felt better seeing comments from your supporters. It reminded you to cheer up - they were looking for a good show, not a sob story. You leaned back, revealing your stomach in the sheer, sparkly fringed bra you chose to wear (another piece you had designed by yourself). "It's been a looong day."

Steve watched silently, observing your behavior. He didn't notice drastic changes, but you did appear less chipper. Then again, he brushed it off. He didn't expect you to be smiley all the time, you were human too, and this was your work.

"But I'm okay," you reassured, giving that signature grin, genuine and charming and alluring. You were trying to gently distract yourself, get into your act. "I hope you're all just as lovely as I am. I have a special game for you today."

You directed your viewers to your spinning wheel, which you had been working on crafting that week for a game. You grinned as you spinned it. Each act on the wheel cost a certain amount of tokens, and by the end of the game you would garner a bunch of funds. The show went by relatively quickly as you played the game, eventually ending up completely naked.

As ordered by the spinning wheel, you were to use a vibrator. You held it against your clit at the highest setting as you watched the numbers of viewers and the tokens jump up, Steve watching as he stroked himself leisurely. Your legs shook as you restrained yourself from your orgasm so as to increase the length of your showtime, garner more coins to encourage you to come.

     "Mm," you moaned, massaging the vibrator against your clit, getting wetter and slicker by the minute, sliding the toy between your folds. You laughed, breathless. "Fuck, this thing is so powerful. Someone make me come, please make me come. Just a few more tokens for me to come for you."

Steve was hesitant, but he decided to go ahead and give you the amount of tokens you needed. And when you heard the chime of the tokens being added to your account, and saw the name it was attached to, it was like a blast of euphoria. When your legs started to shake, when you started to moan and your stomach started to rise up and down, it was genuine. It was like you were back in a private room with him, although you weren't.

Your orgasm was blood-curdling in the best way, and you felt like you were releasing part of the stress of the past day, the past week. It didn't get any realer than this, once again you felt like he was really there to satisfy you.

      "Oh!" you exclaimed, your mouth dropping open and your blood flowing, moaning. "Yes, Steve, I'm coming for you. Thank you for making me come, Steve!"

Steve had been stroking himself along with you as he watched, and only let himself come now that you had come, his cheeks heating up as he heard you moan his name, something he hadn't been expected. Something about you saying his name like that where everyone could hear, even though he enjoyed the intimacy of private rooms, felt victorious. It felt lewd, salacious, but he couldn't help but enjoy that aspect of it. He moaned through grit teeth while he came, stroking himself to completion.

You came down, thanking everyone for attending and ending the show. But it wasn't long after that you had requested Steve for a private chat. He accepted, because he had gotten used to you doing this a little more frequently. It didn't scare him any more, he just thought of it as making conversation, taking advantage of this connection you had with each other. So when you requested, who was he to say no.

When the chat log opened, you put on your best happy face for Steve, trying to conceal how fatigued this week, today in particular, had made you. But your tired, bleak voice gave it all away, buried deep beneath your smile,

    "Hey, Steve."

Steve was surprised at the sound of your voice. Again, while he understood that you wouldn't be a happy go lucky fairy like personality all the time, he wasn't expecting this. You were smiling, but the weariness in your eyes was hard to miss. And your voice, which usually told light hearted tales, sounded worn down as if from tragedy. He was concerned, his eyebrows furrowed gently,

     "Hi. How are you?"

     "I'm good!" you exclaimed, trying your hardest to really sound "good."

But you were just tired. Tired and sad, and scared - scared of what the future had to hold. You were already dealing with school stress, and the text from your ex-boyfriend was like a bad omen, an anxiety-provoking assurance that things actually would not get better and they would in fact get progressively worse. You weren't even sure why you thought you should be talking to Steve if you were tired and just wanted to sleep off the weight of the week. It would be a weekend tomorrow, and one of your very rare days off.

Maybe you figured that you wanted to talk to him despite your fatigue, because conversation with Steve was a nice distraction. You had let yourself forget that this was still your job, and that you were too tired for anything sexual — you knew he liked talking to you, but you hadn't put into consideration the fact that he might request a sexual act from you. You would be burnt out if he did. The fact that you didn't think about that should've been telling, but your brain was too scattered to think straight.

Anyway, Steve called your bluff, and laughed quietly, his voice inquiring and pressing,

      "How are you really?"

That was all it took to get a deep sigh to come from out of you, all it took to allow yourself to show your true feelings, at least the surface of them, what you felt comfortable showing a customer. You felt a sense of relief and gratefulness for Steve, like he was letting you breathe. And if anything, he especially wasn't enlisted to listen to your problems. But he wanted to, and for that you felt foolishly grateful.

    Steve noted the deep sigh that came from out of you, and he frowned slightly. He could tell you had been holding this in for a while, and some part of him felt remorse for the fact that even though you clearly weren't in the right mindset, you went on and did your show anyway. He felt some guilt for being a part of the reason why you did your show.

    You answered, allowing your voice to be as honest as possible.

    "Honestly?" you chuckled a little, albeit bitterly. "I don't know if you really want to hear me rant to you."

Steve shook his head.

    "Don't be silly," he grinned. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to."

You felt a warm rush in your chest from the reassurance, and the corner of your lip quirked up in a small smile, before you decided to dive in. You'd spare the emotional details, spare your private life. But it would be nice to talk to someone, just about the general things, right?

    "Well, it's been a pretty stressful week, honestly. I mean, school's been the main source of my stress. My professor's such an asshole, he's basically been telling me my entire senior project, which I need to complete to graduate, needs to be redone? And I can't even fathom how I would have enough time to do that with like, two and a half months left of my senior year. I mean, he said I can keep most details, but I'd have to rework it, whatever that means."

    You kept your emotions at bay, sighing in annoyance just at the story you told, because it really was irritating you. But then you felt deeper things, even more went into why you really were upset.

    Steve nodded, just listening. He was prepared to offer advice, but in your situation, he thought that maybe just letting you rant would be best.

    "That's gotta be annoying," he shook his head understandingly. "Whatever your project is, I'm sure it's wonderful. He shouldn't be forcing you to rework it or make any last minute changes."

    "I know!" you nearly jumped up, feeling amped up now. "And it's just so fucking annoying because I work so hard and I'm really passionate about this project and it just feels like..."

    It felt like you were about to overflow, like a pot of water that had been left on for too long. You were ranting almost uncontrollably now, maybe because of the fact that it was more than this that was tugging at you. Because you'd been carrying the weight of your life on your shoulders all the time, like Atlas carrying the sky, and it felt like that weight was finally starting to mean something.

    Steve could see you were unraveling and he let you, he let you take the time you needed to feel everything you had been holding. If your connection was strong, it was at its strongest here. Sure, you and Steve chatted about a little bit of everything, even had deeper conversations here and there as the weeks went by. But you had yet to genuinely complain to him, because every time you spoke with him, you were happy go lucky Moonrose, with nothing to complain about to begin with. But now, you needed a release by any means, and you were just glad Steve was there for you, even if he wasn't really there. How unlike you to unfold in front of strangers.

   Your breath stuttered as you took in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm down, only further driving yourself into your rambling. You felt yourself tear up, your voice becoming watery as you continued,

    "It just feels like all my work is turning to shit, and it's so fucking frustrating because I work so hard all the time, I do so much and I manage so much all the time."

     The "hard work" you were talking about wasn't just school and work-related, it pertained to your journey, and how hard you had worked to be a better person. To support yourself. The emotions pent up inside of you, they were more than just being upset over a school project. The idea of someone toxic trying to re-enter your life, someone who had forced you to rework the entirety of your life, made you feel like you were on the verge of crashing. You knew better, but you didn't want to return to those dark days, where the light at the end of the winding tunnel that was your relationship seemed so far away. It was why you were so weary of relationships today. It was crazy how one person could change your life so easily.

     Now you were crying, before you even noticed that you were crying. Tears just seemed to leak out of your eyes, sloshing wet and sudden against your cheeks and underneath your lashes. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand, frazzled at the fact that you were crying in front of a customer right now. Steve said he'd listen to you, he didn't say he'd watch you cry and be your therapist. You instantly regretted it, although you couldn't stop yourself, tears threatening to emerge again. If you were cracked before, you were spilling now.

    Steve was surprised too, at the fact that you were crying. You appeared so put together to him, it was almost something he didn't expect from you. He was in shock at first, so much so that professionalism was not on his mind - it was an afterthought. Right now, instead of wondering if this was appropriate, he was occupied with you.

    "I'm sorry," you murmured, but you still hadn't stopped, tears falling out as you blinked. Composure was nothing now, you were sobbing, your shoulders slumped and your head hung as you sniffled. Still you enforced control, wiping away every tear that fell with the back of your hand. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to cry to you over this, that's so-"

Steve cut you off, shaking his head slowly,

    "It's okay to cry, doll. We all have those days. I know better than anyone that we all have those days."

    You mustered a smile, feeling cared for, feeling accounted for by someone who wasn't even obligated to have to see you like this. Still you shook your head, sniffling,

    "I know. But it's-it's stupid, I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

    "I'm not judging you," Steve said, so nonchalantly and firmly, so genuine that it almost scared you.

You blinked. He should've cared, and he should've judged you. To cry in front of Steve, a customer, was to imply he had some duty to comfort you when he probably just wanted a show. You knew that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but even you had rules when it came to what your customers got to see, and to you, that meant they didn't have to deal with your blues.

     "Really?"

     "Really," he reassured you with a nod.

    Was Steve scared that by giving you this reassurance, this entire situation could become deeper than either of you could handle? Yes. But did he let himself shut down because of those pervasive thoughts that he might get himself into trouble? No. He didn't see you as a liability right now. Right now, even though the situation was certainly questionable (and this was something he had no doubt about. When emotions get into the mix, things could get tricky- he knew this), he saw you as someone who desperately needed someone to talk to. Maybe it wasn't smart of you to make him that someone, but regardless, he was, and who was Steve Rogers not to listen to a person in need?

    You blinked away the last of your tears and swallowed hard. You were making this choice consciously, to tell Steve what had really gotten you to your breaking point. And maybe telling him meant you had trust in him, maybe too much trust for someone who, while great, was still a customer. But you felt like there was nothing you could lose from telling him. Maybe you'd even feel better after the fact.

    You looked down, picking at the body glitter on your arm that you had applied before the show. Your voice was considerably quieter now perhaps because you were looking back on the moment with a clear mind for the first time since it happened. You hadn't been thinking straight ever since you received the text just hours ago. Now your brain was a little quieter with the help of your tears and Steve's reassurance.

       "I think that the stress of this school project is making me resent how hard I work for everything, just to be met with this kind of result, you know? And it's even worse when... things seem to be going backwards. You know, like when you make so much progress, moving on from things that don't serve you, and you've finally done it and you get to flourish in it and then, it just gets taken away from you. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's just how this feels."

     Steve nodded, his jaw ticking as he let your words settle in. Somehow, although your situation was so different from his, he felt like your words perfectly described how he felt with the world sometimes. It was even part of the reason he'd held off on talking to you like this, held off on getting too involved. He too had made so much progress in this world, which took so much getting adjusted to in a way that absolutely nobody else could relate to.

    It was a world that he didn't even know, a world that he had never been properly introduced to. He'd had to fend for himself. He did his healing on his own, just like you had. And yet sometimes it felt like he had no control, like the universe was going the opposite way of all his plans. Then he felt stupid for even having plans to begin with, because in life, making plans was like comedy for the gods.

    There was a weird feeling in his chest and stomach, like he'd been stabbed with a gutting realization, and the knife was just turning inside of him, churning his insides. He began to feel a sense of unease, because this deep conversation was beginning to feel incredibly personal. Even though you were talking about your own situation, he couldn't help but think about how much he resonated, and the fact that he felt like he could relate to you on such a deep level scared him. This was more than the conversations you'd had before, more than the simple similarities you and Steve shared. This felt like a conversation that might be too telling for his good and your own.

     He swallowed his words as he listened to you continue. You chose your words carefully, but you had shed yourself of your inhibitions when it came to being truthful.

     "Earlier... I heard from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. And it kind of pushed me over the edge," out of your mouth stumbled a laugh. You were calmer now, and looked up at the camera, Steve swallowing hard when you did so. It was all so real, just like it was when you touched yourself and moaned Steve's name. "I think it just made me feel all those things I just explained. Because I feel like I worked so hard to rid myself of this person and them trying to come back just feels like all the things I worked so hard on are going to unravel. Even though I know they aren't, it feels like a setback. And that was like, the icing on the cake to this already terrible day, I guess."

      You let out a breathy laugh and smiled gently, shaking your head slowly.

     "I normally wouldn't be telling this to a customer. But here we are. Again, I'm sorry... I feel like I shouldn't have said anything? Should I... have said anything?"

In the brief silence that followed your question,  both you and Steve were thinking the same thing - were you going to regret this? Intimacy both physically and emotionally was good when you capped it at what you both knew to be appropriate. When it came to the physical aspects, you each let your fantasies unwind.

    And on the emotional aspect, though you had both grown closer and more open, some things just didn't get touched upon. But now you had just cried over the screen, and spoke from the depths of your heart. It was scary to open up in such an uncertain situation where your own privacy was an aspect that got involved. There was no doubt that it was too much. It was just a question of whether the result would be negative.

     Steve sighed deeply, a crease forming in his forehead as he furrowed his brows together, folding his arms over his chest.

     "I don't know..." he trailed off, took a breath, a leap, his body practically lurching forward. "But... it can't be a bad thing that you feel comfortable talking to me about this, can it?"

      And there it was, that glint of hope he was trying his hardest to conceal. That feeling he got when he got off that call with you, the one where you both started giving into those unspoken thoughts. That this couldn't be so bad, that you could enjoy each other's company without worrying.  

     You smiled gently,

    "I guess. It does feel weird though, it's not something I normally do. It feels like something I shouldn't be doing."

    You could hear Steve breathing in deeply, and for a moment, you imagined what he might look like, envisioning the outline of a troubled face, eyebrows knit together. You snapped back to reality and made a face, confused by your abrupt thoughts. You had long gotten over the very brief desire to see Steve's face- why was it coming back again?

    "I'll be honest, same here," Steve agreed with your sentiments.

    "Do you always feel like you have to restrain what you say when you talk to people? Or is it just with me?" you added that last part in a quiet voice, biting your lip.

Steve chuckled briefly,

      "Are you asking me if I have trust issues? Because I'd tell you, but I'd have to trust you to do that."

You shook your head and laughed at Steve's stupid joke, and shrugged.

     "I could say the same thing, I think. This person I heard from earlier is... I developed those trust issues because of them. Or, my already existent trust issues became worse. But what's funny about it is that this person was once someone that I loved," even as the words were coming out you questioned why you were letting them, why you were allowing yourself to be so truthful in a situation like this at a time when you were so vulnerable.

      Steve didn't reply, again feeling that sick feeling in his stomach that stemmed from his fear. The fear that this conversation were too serious, fear surrounding the fact that he was able to relate so much to such a personal situation of yours.

    You spoke again, daring to ask the question that felt like a final blow to Steve's stomach,

    "Have you ever been in love, Steve?"

Now Steve knew he was in uncharted territory. Not because he feared you might try to exploit him, but because he was so struck by the fact that he had allowed himself to feel so safe with you and get so close to you. He was surprised at himself for letting you feel safe enough to have these kinds of conversations with him. It all felt like a mistake now. He wanted a way out, any way out. He knew if he even attempted to answer that question, he would be making a big mistake. He had shared some of his most intimate moments with you, but always keeping in mind a very sharp line he didn't want to be crossed.

And in his mind, he thought of the one love he'd had, the one love that hadn't been fulfilled because of the situation he had been thrown into, one he had never signed up for. He thought of how the things he cared most for in life had been discarded, how, like you, he felt like it had gone to shit. How sometimes, though he tried his best to be grateful and had taken that journey of self-healing just like you, it all felt like some sick joke.

Could he even call it love? He wasn't sure. And he wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to answer at all, because he wouldn't be talking to you again. There would be no chance for this dilemma to resurface, not with you, not on this site. He made the decision with haste and a heavy heart - he was done here.

      The discomfort was well evident in his voice, answering loud and clear, though his voice was morose and a bit closed off. You sensed the shift immediately.

     "I... I can't talk about that right now. Listen, I have to go."

    You felt a pang in your chest at the sudden switch in his demeanor, straightening up and trying not to frown. All this time you had been letting the words spill out, telling yourself not to worry so much, reassuring yourself it was okay to make your feelings known. Now it felt like you should've never said anything at all. You started to stammer.

      "Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just... I feel like I got a little overwhelmed." You laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Steve felt his throat ran dry as he blinked, feeling emotions come up to surface that he wasn't quite familiar with. Maybe he was grieving in advance, regretting the decision he was making to no longer speak with you, regretting the fact that he was letting fear get in the way of what he wanted so badly to be a good thing.

    "No, I'm sorry. I feel like I let things go too far," Steve apologized, but the apology felt more like an insult.

Was he implying that whatever this was, you couldn't handle it, and that it was his fault for somehow leading you on? You had both made the connection with each other, it was an equal effort. And why was he acting like the two of you communicating at all was somehow below him, somehow a risk? If anything, you were the one risking it just by talking to him the way you did. You were opening up to him. 

     You almost felt betrayed - you had convinced yourself that he wouldn't want to listen to your problems and you told yourself it wasn't his responsibility to listen. And then he listened anyway, told you that he wanted to hear it, and you cried to him. You felt like you had made so many unusual accommodations just for him to scare off like this. He was just another person you had expressed your feelings to, only to regret it in the end.

    "Too far?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.

Steve swallowed. In your voice he could hear a hint of frustration, but even worse- hurt. It pained him more than he cared for you to know.

    "I don't think we should talk anymore," he said instead.

    "What?" you were taken by surprise. "Steve, I'm... I'm not understanding. I... I don't usually open up to people like this, I mean, I thought maybe it was fine here, because I feel like I know you. But you're still a stranger. I understand you're a customer but I thought we were talking, I thought we broke through that wall-"

    "We did. And we shouldn't have," Steve said, his voice so calm and firm that it was almost cold.

    By now you were just staring into the computer camera, as if you were looking at him and waiting for him to come to his senses. But as you did that, you slowly came to your own. Because you weren't looking at him. You were looking at a black screen with his voice behind it. You realized you hadn't known Steve, not enough to talk about these things. And just like him, you too were full of regret. You kept all those walls up for the sake of customer relations, only to put them down and be met with this disastrous result.

    Steve almost couldn't bare to look at your face anymore. You were confused, hurt. He could tell you regretted the fact that you had opened up. He was hurt too, but he wouldn't show it, or let it overcome him to the point where your methods of communication with each other became something neither of you could control. Still, yes, he was hurt.

    But he had been through plenty of hardships in life. What was one more, even if it shouldn't have come to this point anyway?

    "I'm sorry, Moonrose. We can't. Goodbye."

Chat over.

[outthefryingpan]

Your writing is amazing ! I'm a sucker for fluff personally,, so if I have to suggest something,, it'd be cuddles. Just cuddling after a long,, busy day. Maybe in Winter,, a specially cold day,, those are the best days for cuddling,, and more so if it's with such a hot (pfft) monster like Grillby ! Just giving ideas,, I'll be happily reading anything you update here next. Have a nice day. :)

Cold Nights

Pairing: Grillby/Reader

Rating: Everyone

Notes: I’m a sucker for that too! I very much enjoy this suggestion, thank you! Send more any time u like :^> This is set on the surface! Most of the pieces I write will be set this way unless stated otherwise.

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You can’t believe how late it is when you finally begin walking home. Pulling your phone out and pressing the home button tells you it’s only a few minutes away from midnight. Your feet ache, and you want nothing more than to just crawl into bed.

Luckily for you, it isn’t a long walk to Grillby’s from where you are, maybe a little over 5 minutes, but you really hadn’t anticipated it being this cold and blustery out. Then again, you didn’t anticipate your boss holding you back as late as she did either, so you use that as your excuse for being jacket-less. In reality, it probably wouldn’t have been much warmer out even if you did leave on time, but you’re just going to ignore that. You unceremoniously shove your phone back into your pocket and quicken your pace, holding your hands together in an attempt to conserve some of your already waning warmth. 

In hopes of distraction, you let your mind begin to wander. Initially your prerogative is “think warm thoughts”, but of course that only leads you to thinking of Grillby. It’s inevitable. He’s the warmest thing you can think of.

You think back to when he first opened up his bar on the surface, and how he would stay open all night, every night. The new influx of customers quickly overwhelmed him, and so he changed his hours to accommodate a new goal of his, one he’d adopted upon reaching the surface. He called it the, “not work myself to death” rule. You, nothing more than a new friend at the time, had laughed at that. It was one of the first jokes he’d made around you. You laugh again now, thinking about how horrible a job he’s done in sticking to his goal. Maybe it’s just unrealistic for him, you muse.

No, that isn’t fair. He drastically changed his hours when he first got here. Underground, he’d been open every day from noon to 3AM. How he’d managed a 15 hour work day every single day all by himself was absolutely beyond you, but he told you that down there, he really didn’t have much else to do. 

In a more private setting, after the two of you had grown closer, he confessed that when he lived underground, he felt a sense of obligation to be open as often as possible, to act as a sort of home base for those monsters who were struggling, or just needed someone to help stave off their loneliness. 

Here on the surface, things are better! But they’re a lot different too, a lot busier. And so, with some kind pushing from his friends, he had ultimately decided not only to tighten his hours, but to hire some help as well.

You consider that to be the start of a deeper relationship blossoming between the two of you. You had offered to wash dishes and help with cleanup, and he gratefully accepted. You started talking more, spending more time together, and... The rest is history, you suppose. 

Now, he takes Sundays off, and closes at 10PM on Mondays. His daily hours are still pretty packed, but he has more servers and kitchen staff to help out with them. 

Suddenly, you blink in surprise at yourself as that reminds you of something.

Today’s Monday! That means he should have closed a while ago! 

You sent him a text earlier when you found out you would be late home and told him not to worry, but you totally forgot that it was possible for you to end up working later than him. That is a rare occurrence. 

Well then! 

You become excited at your findings, but quickly realize they mean that he may be sleeping. Rats... You need to be quiet coming in, then.

A chatter sounds in your skull just as the bar comes into view. It isn’t quite snowing out, but the biting, billowing wind is strong enough to drain most of the heat from you. Your fingers feel numb as they blindly wiggle around in your pocket, looking for your keys even though you’re still a little ways away from the front door. By the time you reach it, you’re putting in a pretty significant amount of effort to minimize your shivering and get it unlocked. It’s situations like these that make you thankful to only have a few separate keys to keep track of on your key ring.

The door itself is pretty new, but still creaks lightly as you push it open. Then, you almost lose your grip on the knob when a particularly strong gust of wind shoves you in through the front door. You stumble forward. 

Startled as you are, it doesn’t take you long to recover, close the door firmly behind you, and lock it with a huff. You’re just glad no one is around to have seen your little blunder. Hand still on the door, you sigh out your relief. Grillby would definitely be alerted by the door swinging open and slamming into the wall. He’d be alerted if you face-planted into the hardwood flooring, too. 

After taking a moment to smooth yourself out and appreciate the internal temperature of the bar, you glance around the dark room. As you expected, tables and chairs are neat, lights are off, and not a speck of dust can be seen. Sometimes you wonder if Grillby gets off on extreme cleaning. You snicker quietly to yourself.

The rise in temperature is great compared to the freezing nightmare you’d endured outside, but it isn’t anywhere near enough to stop your shivering. So you beeline for the staircase that leads to Grillby’s apartment- or more accurately, your ticket to comfort. It’s a little hard to see, and you nearly trip once on the way up, but the reward you’re met with upon entering is well worth it.

Instantly, you’re flushed with a wave of warmth.

Grillby sits on the couch in the living room that faces the door, knuckle pressed to the side of his mouth and book in hand. Your entrance alerts him, and his head turns up so his eyes can meet yours. They look tired. Yours do too.

He can see you shivering still, and it makes him frown. However, the beginning of a small smile finds its way onto his face when he lifts a hand and waves you over. Both of you know what comes next. You step toward him eagerly. 

Without a word spoken between the two of you, he places the thick, old looking novel down on the table in front of him, and opens himself up to you. Rather than sitting next to him like he had expected, you opt for plopping down directly in his lap, arms around his shoulders and legs on either side of him. He lets out a surprised grunt, but it quickly dissolves into a chuckle as his arms find their way around your midsection. You relish in the warmth they offer.

“You’re cold.” He starts.

“You’re warm.” You reply, though it’s muffled by the fabric of his thin shirt. He hears you despite this, and a fiery brow quirks up. 

“Aren’t I always?” Grillby asks. You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, but nod against him regardless. Thanks to him, you can feel your shivers mostly subside.

“Yea, but I especially appreciate it when it’s freezing out.” Comes your voice once more. Sighing, you feel his arm begin to rub slowly up and down your back, a soothing, sweeping motion that transfers his heat to you even faster. Suddenly comfortable, you’re reminded of how totally exhausted you are.

“I always tell you to bring a coat.” He tries for a chastising tone, but can’t help that it comes out as soft as it does. His voice is just a mumble now, reaching your ears easily despite its low volume. This is in part because he’s taken the liberty of placing his cheek against your head.

“Heh..Yeah...” You concede, burrowing your face further into him. It’s a long moment before you speak again. “I didn’t think you’d be up. Aren’t you tired?” At this question you look up at him as much as your current position will allow, cheek still smooshed into his shoulder.

His response is low, and doesn’t come immediately, which kind of gives you an answer in itself: Yes.

“Mm... I am..” He confirms your suspicion. A little more quietly, he continues. “But you were still out, and...” The elemental’s head lazily tilts, and the flames constantly spiraling off of it follow the movement. You catch him glance out the window. As if wanting to help illustrate his point, another forceful gust of wind rattles it just slightly.

A little guilt twists your stomach. He always worries, and you should have known he would be waiting. You should’ve fought harder to leave on time. You expect he’s going to finish the thought, but you already know where he’s headed, so you preempt him.

“You didn’t need to wait up for me...” You say softly. 

The response you get is hushed, but still quite matter-of-fact.

“I did. I wanted to. ...I like going to bed with you.” His tone is so simple, so casual, so... sweet. He’s just speaking honestly, yet it affects you so much. The guilt you feel morphs into adoration, and the feeling makes you grin. You’re sure he can feel it against him, but duck your head back down anyway.

“OK.” Your voice is muffled once more. But the smile in it is audible. A short, breathy hum escapes him, the sound like a sleepy little laugh.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other. The calm rise and fall of his chest slows further, and the surrounding blanket of his warmth cradles you softly. 

You don’t want to, but you eventually have to turn your face to the side. As comfy as he is, it’s a little hard to breathe that way. This movement seems to take him a bit off guard, and rouses him from a drowsiness he’d almost let get the better of him. You feel and hear the deep breath he sucks in as he shifts, bringing himself back off the brink of sleep. He props himself back up against the couch, holding you still as he does. You let out a large yawn, and gently pat his back.

“OK...Time for bed?” You ask quietly. In his sleep-addled state, he can only nod. Without another word, arms around your middle become hands on your waist, and he lifts you off of him and gently places you on the cushion next to him. Slowly he stands, stretching. His flames crackle and pop with the action, and once he’s satisfied he lets out the breath he’d been holding and turns to you with a bright orange hand extended.

For a moment, you consider asking him to carry you. You’re exhausted! But another look at his slightly lopsided posture and barely open eyes reminds you he’s right there with you. So you make do with just grabbing his hand and using it to help pull yourself up. Once you’re on your feet, you two begin a slow stroll to your shared bedroom, and step inside. 

The blinds are drawn, so the only light permeating the darkness you stumble around in to change is Grillby himself. You end up in just your underwear and a big T shirt. Following your lead, he removes his own top and bottoms, leaving himself only in his briefs. 

It’s only about 45 seconds after you enter the room that both of you are crashing into bed. You simply let yourself fall face first. He as usual is a little more graceful about things, gently lifting the covers for himself, and helping you work your way under them too. Your tired body sings in relief as you sink into the mattress, your back to the flaming monster beside you.

Unsatisfied with this, you fight the sleep off for a little longer to wiggle a bit. A questioning hum leaves him, and by the sound of it, he’s working pretty hard to stay awake too. You turn under the covers, trying not to muss them too much and he seems to get the idea. Warm hands land on your sides again as he helps you turn toward him, eager to pull you closer. 

It’s a little brighter when you face him, but that’s never bothered you. Especially not when you’re this worn out. He sighs happily at this change, and his arms circle tightly around you, a hand finding the back of your head and threading itself through your hair. 

His digits comb against your scalp ever so gently, drawing a pleased hum from your closed lips. Not many people know (because how could they? He certainly isn’t going around talking about it), but Grillby is quite a physical being. He had some old hang ups that made it hard for him to embrace that about himself at first, and is polite and accommodating to a fault sometimes, but once you’d made him comfortable enough he gave in to his desire to hold you more often, and hold you closely. 

Once again, you thank the fucking stars for that. Especially on nights like these. Gone is any trace of the icy chill that consumed you earlier. 

Without missing a beat, you place your own hands on his broad back, now giving him the same treatment you had received earlier. He’s larger than you, as most monsters tend to be, but it doesn’t hinder your efforts to gently rub your arm up and down along his spine, fingers only deftly making contact. The hand not doing this splays out across his shoulder blade, then creeps up to rest on the point where his shoulder meets his neck. It wouldn’t be long now for either of you. Your eyelids close, but he looks down at your calm form for a little longer. 

A murmured utterance of your name grips the last inklings of your attention. Your eyes slowly drag themselves open again, and a drowsy, “Hmn..?” escapes you. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks, leaning down so his mouth is closer to your head.

“I love you...” Grillby breathes out. You smile, and lightly kiss whatever of his skin is closest to your lips. That turns out to be a spot on his chest, right under his collar. There���s a small smooching sound as you pull back.

“...Love you too.” You exhale against him. With the last of his effort, he throws a leg over yours, crooking it to bring you closer still, and fully embrace you.

Those are the last words spoken that night. All that follows is the dull crackling of flames and the soft sound of breathing as you both allow your bodies the rest they’ve been aching for.

[carols-review-box]

My Thoughts on Ginny & Georgia: Season 1 

These are my thoughts.

Right off the bat, I want to address that this is, by no means, a comprehensive review. I’m not even sure if it can be called a review. These are just my thoughts on the show, and it may or may not cover everything (in fact, it most certainly won’t cover everything), and I’ll try my best to write it out in an organized manner, but I can’t make promises. (Though, in all fairness, this is just a blog for my own entertainment, and I don’t expect anyone to actually read it.) 

Now, moving on. Ginny & Georgia, season 1. Where do I begin? 

First Impressions 

I first encountered Ginny & Georgia on Netflix when the website decided to auto play its trailer while I was scrolling through it. I watched--almost begrudgingly-- a short, 1 minute clip of Ginny complaining to her teacher about how all the books on the curriculum were written by white men. While I understand where Ginny was coming from, and while I understand that a lot of high school literature is written by authors who sometimes are not representative of their audience, Ginny’s introduction just came off as obnoxious and annoying. I thought, “Imagine moving to a new school, and that’s the first thing you say to the teacher.” I rolled my eyes, wrote the show off as another try-hard feminist woke piece (or something like that), and didn’t think I’d watch it. 

Well, at some point, I obviously decided to give the show a try. And by the middle of the first episode, I was actually really surprised when Ginny didn’t turn out to be insufferable in the beginning. I say in the beginning-- because her character really slides downhill past a certain point.

Plot 

Throughout the entire show, I was probably a thousand times more interested in Georgia’s plot than Ginny’s. 

It makes sense-- Ginny’s plot is... well, pretty much a generic teen soap opera that I’ve seen hundreds of times before. There are some unique themes to her story that I’ve rarely seen portrayed in other shows, like her experience as a biracial person, but other than that, it seems to be your run-of-the-mill drama. 

On the other hand, Georgia’s plot is fresher. I haven’t personally seen any black-widow narratives (if Georgia could be called that), so I was intrigued and curious by how her story would play out. Not to mention, I liked Georgia’s love interests far better than Ginny’s, but maybe that’s just my personal taste.

In comparing these two plots, I do feel like the writers did Ginny wrong. Georgia is given an interesting storyline with a relevant backstory and plot points that actually make sense, whereas Ginny’s story is mediocre, we rarely get to see her side of the past, and half the stuff that goes down in her life is either unrealistic and overdramatized or it just makes no damn sense. 

Characters 

I could probably talk a great deal about the characters in this show. I have the most to say about Ginny (75% of it is criticism, honestly), so I’ll dedicate an entire section to her later. For now, I’ll start with these characters:

Georgia: Georgia, oh Georgia. To put it simply, Georgia is a psychopath hidden behind a large smile and a buzzing Southern accent. For the first 5 episodes, I was so fooled by her act (and her beauty) that I forgot she’s a literal murderer and most likely not a good human being. But I guess that’s, in part, what makes her very interesting to watch. 

Hunter: I literally felt nothing but a mixture of boredom and pity whenever Hunter was on screen. For the first 8 episodes, he is just an extraordinarily boring character-- and his boringness is used as a justification by Ginny to cheat on him (that’s where the pity part comes in). I enjoyed how how he got more character in the ending episodes, and I could understand his struggles when he fought with Ginny (in that scene). But if he wasn’t dating Ginny, then he would’ve been a completely forgettable character.

Marcus: Marcus ALWAYS looks like he’s high. I don’t think there’s a single scene in the show where he doesn’t look like he just smoked something. He also has little personality, other than being the “bad boy.” I guess his hotness makes up for it, or something?

Maxine: While I enjoy Max overall, I think she can be really annoying, talkative and insensitive at times. Emphasis on the last part, because she does this irritating thing where she says something racist, and then asks if she just said something racist. 

Abby: Out of the friend group, I feel like Abby is the most dramatic without being overdramatic. She experiences things that a regular teenager would. However, she can be a bad friend at times, and I don’t like how the characters gives her a pass on some questionable choices she makes. 

Paul: I like Paul. It is a little bit hypocritical of me to say Paul is a good character when he basically has the same exact personality as Hunter, but I’m going to say it: He’s a good character.

Zion: Zion is smooth, and I enjoy his little wisdom bits with Ginny. But he was introduced too late into the show, and I can’t see him being a good fit for Georgia. 

Joe: I love Joe. Just like some of the other characters, he is kind of plain. Kind of vanilla, daresay boring, but for some reason, I love him. Maybe it’s because of his adorable connection with Georgia. Maybe it’s because he offers some much-needed comedic relief in this overdramatized show. Maybe it’s because he has attractive qualities, like running a “successful” business, or maybe he’s just my type. For many, many episodes, I wanted Georgia to get together with Joe the most. 

Austin: I forgot Austin existed for half the time. Like, I know the kid stabbed someone, but in the grand scheme of things, he’s just so forgettable.

Character: Ginny

Ginny. Ah, where do I even begin with Ginny? 

First, I’m just going to say this: I know the writers intended to depict a biracial person’s experience in America through Ginny. I’m not biracial myself, and I don’t fully understand the issues that biracial people go through, so I’m not going to comment too much on how the authors managed to fuck up. I say “how” and not “if,” because a lot of biracial people have said that Ginny & Georgia is kind of a bad example of their life, and also because even I can see the problems with the show from a mile away. 

Getting that out of the way, I’ll start with Ginny’s overall character. 

One would think that a character who is depicted as-- for a lack of better words-- as “woke,”... as in, a character who is supposed to have better moral values than others (the definition comes from the word’s general connotative interpretation from leftist media), would be a good human being. But time and time again, we see that Ginny is everything but. 

These are my biggest issues with Ginny’s character:

1) She acts like she’s better than everyone else, but also like she’s super oppressed. I know these two personality traits aren’t mutually exclusive, but they’re not a good combination either. 

2) She thinks she’s the only person in the entire town who has real issues. Other characters confront her about this, and she eventually mellows down, but it’s astounding to me the amount of people she had to offend before she got the point.

3) She can be really ungrateful and rude towards her mom. I know Georgia is not a perfect mother-- not even close-- and she can be genuinely crazy at times, but Ginny is very rarely appreciative of her mom’s efforts. 

4) Despite Ginny’s intelligence, she is not smart. She commits a bunch of dumb mistakes. Now, some of these can be attributed to her just being a teenager-- like having unprotected sex, sending nudes, being peer pressured into stealing, etc. Whereas other choices-- most notably cheating on her boyfriend-- are just a product of her shitty personality.

5) There is a really bad implication concerning Ginny’s views on race. I can probably talk a lot about race in this show, but true to my word, I’ll keep this short and talk about the one thing that really bothered me: Ginny ignores the black kids. There’s a line in the show where Ginny says she’s too white for the black folks and too black for the white folks... and she uses this to justify never having any friends or not fitting in. But when she gets to Wellsbury, she’s accepted by everyone, including black people, yet she chooses to ignore them. She only sits with them near the end of the show when her friend group kicks her out. And she looks miserable. 

Ginny likes to complain a lot about her white side, but all things considered, I think she has an issue with her black side instead. I don’t know if this is representative of the biracial experience, but I imagine this can’t be a good thing to portray on screen. 

I know it’s crazy of me to say this right after I just ripped Ginny apart. However, despite everything, I actually like Ginny as a character. Do I like her as much as I like Georgia or Joe? No, but she swings more good than bad. What can I say? She’s entertaining (in the same way that Cheryl from Riverdale is entertaining). She’s at least somewhat relatable, and I wouldn’t have watched the entire season if I truly found her to be unbearable. 

That being said, Ginny does have a lot of potential to grow, and I sincerely hope the writers do her better in the next season. 

Themes 

*At some point in the future, I may add more to this section.  

Family: Despite a significant portion of this show being terribly unrealistic, I appreciate the show’s overall depiction of family and separation. For one, the show represents families who aren’t stereotypically nuclear. Our main protagonists are a single mother-daughter combo. The Bakers next door have a deaf father and a mother who doesn’t fit into a perfect mold. There’s a biracial family (Hunter) who connects far more with their American side than their Taiwanese-- so much that Hunter and his sister don’t even speak a lick of Mandarin. The small details and nuances which are added into the show makes them far more representative of the general American population. 

Conversations: This show gives conversations that are far overdue in media. While Hunter and Ginny’s fight scene is 98% pure cringe, the remaining 2% of it is an important reminder on being biracial (or a person of color) in America. Many of us struggle with our racial identity, and it’s unproductive to compare who has it worse. 

Overall + Rating 

To me, the first season of Ginny & Georgia is a 6.5/10. (Five being the average; so this would be a little better than average). While it showed a lot of potential at the beginning, the show eventually devolved to nothing more than a standard melodrama-- even on Georgia’s part. It tried hard to be another Gilmore Girls but ended up falling quite short. I am looking forward to its second season though; and hopefully, it’s much better than the first. 

[missjanjie]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered | (6/7)

Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered Summary:   Jan is in love with her French pen pal, Nicky. Her roommate, Crystal, is in love with her best friend, Gigi. A (perhaps ill-thought out) plan emerges: give Nicky a reason to visit by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding. With a month to pull the scheme together, no one knows how this will end up. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~17.4k (total) Relationship(s): Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Jan rubbed her eyes, trying to dislodge whatever had gotten caked in there overnight, then pushed herself out of bed and made herself walk towards the kitchen. She put on her glasses and saw Crystal cooking breakfast – so she took off her glasses and put them on again to make sure she was seeing that correctly. “You’re up bright and early,” she observed.

“Is that weird?” Crystal asked, feigning innocence because the answer was obvious. Especially since she couldn’t look Jan in the eye and started shifting her weight from one leg to the other. That went on for about twenty seconds before she broke. “Okay, okay. It’s just… Gigi spent the night.”

That didn’t clear anything up for Jan, who waited for a further explanation. When she didn’t get one, she pointed out, “Gigi spends the night all the time, we both know she’s very comfortable with that. I mean… She practically lives here.”

She huffed because now she had to get into specifics. “No, but it was different this time. We… you know…” instead of outright saying it, she made a ‘v’ with her fingers and flicked her tongue between them.

“Oh please, you can just say you fucked,” Jan said, only for it to hit her a beat later. “Oh my god, you guys fucked?” Her eyes went wide and she bounced excitedly. “Wait, wait, wait. What does that mean for you guys now? Are you gonna be a thing? Is she still here?”

Crystal blinked. “How can you breathe when you’re talking so fast?” She turned back to finish cooking, then plated the food. “She’s taking a shower… I don’t know what this means for us,” she sighed. “The whole thing started because she said we weren’t convincing when we kissed for the photos. Maybe she thought we needed to explore our physical chemistry so we can use it better.”

Jan put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “I’m sorry, but that sounds like a line,” she told her, moving around the kitchen island to pour herself coffee. “Which, I mean, is good for you, because it means she was looking for an excuse to feel you up,” she added, bumping her hip against Crystal’s.

“That’s what I said! But she swore we just needed to be super convincing or it’d ruin our whole plan.”

She quirked her brow and snickered. “You believed that?”

Crystal looked down, pushing a forkful of her omelet into her mouth. “I mean… Why would she make that up? That doesn’t make any sense.” She looked back up, eyes meeting her roommate’s incredulous expression. “What?”

Jan was about to scream, her eyes ready to pop out of her head. If it was obvious to her, it was damn near bewildering that Crystal couldn’t pick up on it. This wasn’t some cute, subtle flirting, like the kind they had been trying to master this whole time – this was as close to an outright declaration of affection that someone like Gigi would get. “I don’t know, Crystal,” she answered with pointed sarcasm, “lying to people we like seems to be the norm here, let’s think this through a little bit.”

Luckily for Crystal, she didn’t get a chance to think too hard. Before she could reply, Gigi exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body, another wrapping up her hair. She looked at the other two girls, blissfully unaware of the bubbling tension between the two roommates. “Hi Jan,” she greeted, at least realizing she had walked in on the middle of a conversation, and added, “I’m gonna go get dressed,” before disappearing into Crystal’s bedroom.

Crystal exhaled once Gigi left and waited for her heart to return to its normal speed. She hated that even though she knew the other girl hadn’t heard anything, her mere presence made her chest tighten. Even after all that had happened the night before, she had the feeling of walking on eggshells around Gigi whenever the subject of her feelings was approached. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Not to sound like the world’s biggest hypocrite, but you could talk to her about it,” Jan suggested gently. She imagined life was a lot easier for people who weren’t afraid to say how they feel, to just open their hearts up and speak their mind without fear of repercussion. It must be nice. Completely unrealistic, but nice.

Unsurprisingly, Crystal scoffed at the mere suggestion. “If talking about things was plausible, we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

Jan sighed and leaned against the counter. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” She exhaled deeply and looked out the window. “God, we’re pretty fucking useless. Almost makes it hard to believe that graduation’s at the end of the week,” she mused. “When’s your family due in?”

“Day before the ceremony, so Friday. Means we got two whole days of peace and quiet before we have to deal with them,” Crystal explained between bites. But then she abruptly stopped, eyes going wide. “Oh fuck, what’re we gonna do about the… everything?”

Before Jan could answer, Gigi – now fully dressed – rejoined them, naturally noticing the horror in Crystal’s expression before anything else. “What’s wrong?”

“We failed to account for Crystal’s family flying out here in the midst of all of this,” Jan told her. “So we’re either going to have to clue them in, avoid mentioning anything entirely, or let her conservative parents think she’s about to marry a girl they’ve met… what, twice?”

Crystal nodded to confirm Jan’s answer. “I think the second one is our best chance, probably the easiest one too.” She strummed her fingers against the plate, lips pursed and brows furrowed. “Gigi, you need to tell your mom not to say anything, they’ll still probably want to say hi to you guys.”

Gigi shrugged. “Sure, but I don’t think she’s planning on going to the ceremony, so I dunno when she’d see them anyway.”

“I’m just covering our asses!” Crystal snapped, causing both of the other girls to take a surprised, cautious step backward. She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “Look, my parents are… They’re trying. But it’s still a work in progress. I just want everything to go as smoothly as possible.”

Jan and Gigi moved back to Crystal, gently holding her from either side. “Everything is going to be fine,” Jan said with a certainty she’d been lacking for the entirety of their plan. But it was different, avoidable, and they weren’t going to let it ruin such an important day. “We’re not gonna let anything ruin this, I promise.”

------

Jan and Crystal, like the rest of their graduating class, were seated in alphabetical order, keeping them apart for the duration of the ceremony. They texted each other, and both Jan and Gigi made sure to reassure Crystal that there was nothing to worry about. And as they sat and listened to speech after speech, things felt increasingly calm, to the point that they were both able to walk across the stage with their heads held high.

And when they tossed their caps in the air, they felt free. The past four years had been a tough, enduring chapter in their lives, but a fun one as well. It also helped to have one less thing on their plate with Nicky’s visit and the ‘wedding’ around the corner.

“I’m so happy for you guys!” Gigi beamed when she finally caught up with the two of them after weaving through the crowd of graduates and their families. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Crystal answered. “I don’t see why they had to hold this so damn early.”

Jan frowned sympathetically. “She didn’t get a chance to get her coffee,” she clarified to Gigi. “Honestly, I’m just happy it’s all done. Gonna miss a lot of it but like… I’m not rushing back any time soon.”

“Yeah? Not going for that MFA?” Gigi asked, absentmindedly looping her arm around Crystal’s waist.

“Not now, at least,” she shrugged. “Gonna see how far I can get with this before I sign myself up for more school.” As she spoke, she felt her phone vibrate in her purse, then fished it out and smiled when she unlocked it. “Aw, look at this cute ‘congratulations’ gif Nicky sent me.”

Crystal’s gaze narrowed as she looked at the screen. “Congrats on your graduation, darling. I have a special present for you, but it’s a surprise. Heart, winky-kissy emoji,” she read off the screen, then looked at Jan quizzically. “What the fuck was that? Did you guys move to sexting already?”

Despite her reddening face, Jan’s expression read just as perplexed. “Believe me, you would know if we were. I have no idea what the surprise is.” She decided to set the mystery aside for the time being. “We should get back home and throw an overnight bag together, we can check into the hotel and leave them there, then right out to dinner with our families.”

“I still can’t believe your parents booked you a night in a penthouse for graduation,” Gigi chimed in. “They don’t mind that I’m going too, right?”

Jan shook her head. “It’s fine, you’ll just have to share a bed with Crystal… But I’m sure that won’t be an issue, right?” she did her best to fight off a smirk, but by the way, Crystal was glaring at her, she was pretty sure her efforts were not paying off.

But Gigi didn’t seem to notice either way. “Yeah, no problem here,” she answered with a casual shrug.

------

Much to everyone’s relief, dinner with Crystal and Jan’s families went off without a hitch, and the two of them, along with Gigi, were ready to have a fun, relaxing night in the penthouse. The suite had two queen-sized beds, Jan running to claim the one closer to the window and the air conditioning.

“Holy shit,” Crystal remarked as she looked around. “How much did this cost?”

“Dunno, my dad used his airline points to cover it,” Jan explained, then flopped down on the bed. “This is a perfect note to end our college careers on.”

Gigi sat on the edge of the other bed. “Can we order room service?” she asked, pushing herself further onto the bed and aimlessly swinging her legs.

Jan sat up and nodded, then got the menu from the bedside drawer. “You know, Nicky never got back to me about whatever her surprise was, I didn’t get anything in the mail.”

“And no salacious photos?” Gigi asked.

“No.”

“She must have a big package for you,” Crystal mused, then laughed at her wording. She ignored Jan and Gigi rolling their eyes and moved to look at the menu, the three of them calling in an order shortly after.

As the three of them sat on Jan’s bed, eating overpriced food and drinking wine that was probably fancy, but they wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between that and the fifteen dollar bottles they were used to. And after a couple glasses of wine, they had become even more relaxed, enough for Crystal to admit, “Jan knows we fucked, by the way.”

Gigi blinked, looking between Crystal and Jan with her lips pursed around the glass. “I didn’t know it was a secret,” she replied once she lowered the glass. “But why did Jan want to know?”

Crystal swallowed thickly, trying to think of a way to talk herself out of what she’d just gotten into. “Because… We’re friends? We talk to each other about this sort of thing. We’re close.”

“Very close,” Jan added under her breath, then giggled when Crystal shot her a look.

Gigi frowned. “Okay, can I ask something that’s been bugging me for a while? Do you guys have, like, a thing?”

Crystal nearly choked on her drink while Jan just seemed to sit and think, then answered with “define ‘thing’.”

“Look, I know you’re in love with Nicky, I’m not saying I think you guys are gonna run off together or anything,” Gigi assured. “But… Sometimes I get the vibe that Crystal might have a crush on you.”

While Crystal’s mouth hung open in shock and a bit of wine dribbled down her chin, Jan had burst out laughing, narrowly avoiding knocking anything over in the process. It was the type of laughter that left her out of breath and with watery eyes.

“Are you done?” Gigi asked, deadpan. “Did you get it out of your system?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jan panted, then turned to Crystal. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I have to tell her the truth,” and Crystal didn’t put up a fight, so she proceeded. “Okay, look, Crystal and I did have sex. Once. But she did it to take her mind off of how much she likes you. It wasn’t anything more than two friends getting high and helping each other out.”

It wasn’t easy to stun Gigi into silence, but Jan’s explanation seemed to do the trick. Had she had it wrong this whole time? Misread every interaction? Ignored every sign? Sure, she knew she tended to be oblivious, but this just made her feel silly. At this point, she didn’t care that Jan and Crystal had hooked up, all she was concerned with was what happened next. “Since we’re all telling the truth now… I have an embarrassing confession. The last girl I hooked up with… I, um, called her ‘Crystal’ in bed. Kinda realized I couldn’t ignore how I felt anymore.”

“If I may,” Jan chimed in. “Literally the first time I saw you guys without the engagement rings was at graduation. Maybe this was a stupid, convoluted way to figure it out, but I think you guys are supposed to be together. Now, I… suddenly have the desire to take a long bath… Bye.” She got off the bed and quickly ducked into the bathroom to give the other two the time alone they needed.

“She’s trying her best,” Crystal remarked before turning to face Gigi. “I… that story… you weren’t just saying that to have an excuse for liking me, right?”

Gigi smiled softly and shook her head. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

Crystal shrugged. “I guess not. The image of you saying the wrong name in bed is funny, though. Just wanted to make sure it was real.” She shifted closer to Gigi and rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m so tired of pretending, not pretending to be engaged, pretending to just be friends.”

“You’re not suggesting we get engaged for real, are you?”

She laughed, picking her head up and resting it against Gigi’s. “No, not at all. I just wanna be your girlfriend, Geege.”

Gigi grinned broadly and pressed a kiss to Crystal’s lips. “I love how that sounds. Say it again, please.”

And Crystal would’ve happily said it as many times as Gigi wanted, as long as she got a ‘yes’ in return. “I wanna be your girlfriend.”

“Then… You are. That’s that,” she concluded, kissing her again, this time longer and with much more emotion behind it. “If we barricade Jan in the bathroom, we could probably fuck before she breaks down the door.”

Crystal laughed, getting up and moving back to hers and Gigi’s bed. “She wouldn’t care if she walked in on us, neither would I, honestly, but I kind of… don’t want to have sex right now. I’m all emotional and vulnerable and whatever,” she admitted as she laid on her side, opening her arms and beckoning Gigi to join her.

“Oh,” Gigi felt her heart swell with warmth. “We don’t have to at all, then,” she hummed, laying with Crystal and holding her close. She pressed gentle kisses over her face, carding her fingers through Crystal’s hair.

They cuddled in comfortable silence for about another ten minutes until they heard the bathroom door open. Jan was wrapped in a white terrycloth robe, her hair a bit damp, and let out a content sigh. She looked over at the couple and smiled fondly. “Aw, you guys are too cute!” she squealed.

“You weren’t eavesdropping, were you?” Crystal asked.

“Nope,” Jan answered honestly. “I’ve been texting with Nicky. But it looks like you guys worked everything out.”

“We did,” Gigi confirmed, then her brows furrowed. “She’s up late, isn’t she? It’s after three in the morning in France, right?”

Jan looked at her phone and counted to herself. “Yeah, that is late, but that’s not uncommon for her, so I didn’t ask.” She gathered up the plates and glasses, stacking it up on the tray and setting it aside. “You guys are gonna finish this bottle off with me, right?”

Before either of them could answer, there was a knock on the door that caught them all off guard. “Wonder what else my parents have planned,” she mused, expecting some sort of additional graduation present, or maybe just an extra dessert. Either way, she opened the door with a smile, only for her jaw to go slack and practically drop to the floor. Surely she was seeing things, or maybe she was more drunk than she realized. There was no way–

“Surprise!” Nicky beamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.