#and i was like? surely there must not be that much water?

[reignpage]

❀ In which husband!Nanami makes a big decision after your labour Tw: hard labour, difficult pregnancy, allusions to death, angst, not proofread

“Are you sure about this?” The doctor asks again.

Kento leans back in his chair, staring straight ahead at the older man before him. He notes, with a little humour, how concerned his doctor looks at the prospect of a younger, more virile man like him undergoing such an operation. There seems to be some stigma surrounding the quick and low-risk operation, almost as if the idea of any man willingly sacrificing an essential part of their identity, their manhood, is so abhorrent one must check again and again if they are certain this is what they want. 

And he is. 

If asked, and he’s sure when he discloses his decision to friends and family, they will ask, he’ll tell them it is the easiest choice he has ever made — second only, of course, to his decision to marry you. 

No matter how many times the doctor reminds him that contraceptives are satisfactory, that abortion is available up to twenty-two weeks gestation, and he might come to regret this later when the pain settles in, Nanami Kento will not change his mind. Not even when you, his beautiful wife, argued, pleaded, with him. 

You resented the thought of not being able to give him the big family he’s always dreamed of, but how could he possibly tell you, through your tears and the quiet suckling of the nursing baby in your arms, that you’ve already given him everything he could ever want?

That it isn’t a big family he wants but rather, simply, a family with you. 

Years of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted makes this one act extremely uncomfortable; defying you goes against his nature, after all. But he sees no other way to go about this. Perhaps it's just better to ask for forgiveness than approval on select occasions.

The pregnancy had been hard. The labour even harder. Lasting longer than twenty hours, the nurses and doctors rushed around, beelining in and out of your room with all sorts of expressions on their faces, ranging from professional sternness to mild worry to pure panic, all reflecting the emotions he wore on his own face as he waited outside. 

At first, things went smoothly — the overnight bag was ready by the door, your contractions were consistent and you were both able to get ahead of your water breakage. He was by your side throughout it all, holding your hand, brushing your hair back, going through breathing exercises, and giving you encouragements. 

You were anxious but excited, rattling off baby names as back-up plans in case the baby was 'giving off a different vibe,' worrying about the crib you both picked out, the colour of her room, and trying to remember every single advice you heard from your experienced friends. “What was it babies can’t have until much later? Ugh, I can’t remember now. It was something I really like and was super bummed I can’t let her taste until like centuries later. “

“Honey?”

“Yes, dear?” You grinned at him.

His lips twitched.

“That’s all I get? I thought that was hilarious.”

He wiped the sweat off your forehead. “It was very funny, my love. I hope our baby gets your sense of humour. She’ll make for a successful clown.”

The eye roll you gave him, for one happy moment, convinced him that this labour was going to be just as they said.

There was nothing to be concerned about. Your tests were clean, there’s no history of complications, you followed the recommended diet and have been diligent with the vitamins. It was just going to be your standard birth and they have years of experience.

You’re in safe hands.

So why were you straining for so long?

Why were you screaming through gritted teeth, threatening to break every bone in his hand?

Why was he growing dizzy at the sight of your shaking body?

“Just breathe, sweetheart, alright? Breathe for me.”

You tried. You tried so hard. “Yes, y-yes, I am. Oh, fuck, Kento, it hurts. It really hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Mouth dry, face flushed, and voice broken, he could only mutter empty promises. A true failure of a husband, unable to do a single thing to alleviate your pain. “Hang in there, please. They’ll sort it out. It’s all going to be fine.”

The nurses began whispering among themselves, too hushed and hurried for him to understand. "Is everything alright? What's happening?"

More people came in, crowding the bed and pushing him away. He tried to tell them you needed him by your side, that you needed something to hold, someone to keep your hair out of your face. He was being escorted out, wordlessly.

"Ken? Wait, don't leave. I'm scared." Your hand was outstretched and he fought, against better judgement, to hold it just for a second to soothe your worries. They didn't let him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. T-they're going to take care of you."

Hours flew by. He paced the floor, and answered all the messages and calls he received from worried loved ones with responses he didn’t really believe in but knew he had to: ‘she’ll be fine,’ ‘she’s in good hands,’ and ‘it’s probably nothing.’

Sitting on a cold, hard bench, in a large waiting room with people he could only hope weren't in the same position as him, Kento couldn't sleep. Instead, he listened to the incessant ticking of the clock, the dull thrumming of the TV in the corner, and the monotone voices of nurses talking among themselves.

He wasn’t in the room when your baby was finally out, missing out on her first cry, on watching that instant connection you talk about form, on being able to thank you.

They only beckoned him in with relieved smiles some time later. Finally, he could see you, could hold you, tell you how amazing you are. And he did. He held the baby too, small, beautiful, unable to even open her eyes, but had a great set of lungs on her, just like her mother. 

“Oh, sweetheart. She looks just like you,” he breathed out. 

You didn’t reply, couldn’t look at him, couldn’t smile. You simply held his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. The feeling of your cold, clammy hand weak and quivering like you were holding onto a thin rope just so you could say goodbye will forever haunt him.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, love?" He turned to the nurses, tried to meet their eyes. "What's happening to my wife?"

The events after that were hectic and Kento, try as he might, couldn’t piece together what happened. Rapid beating and beeping, sudden shouts, baby taken away, and he was pushed out of the room. The last glimpse he had of his wife, the last glimpse he thought he would have forever, was of her spasming on the bed, surrounded by strangers in masks and stained robes. 

Alone.

Terrified.

Failed by her husband. 

Never again, Kento swore. Never again will he put you through that, the pain, the suffering, the fear. He’ll never drive you to the edge of life and allow you to teeter on your own. If it’ll be anyone, it’ll be him. It has to be.

You survived this time and he’ll do everything in his power to make sure there isn’t a next time — he’s not sure he could step up and be the father your baby needs without you.

His hand still shakes.

In his sleep, at his absolute worst, he hears your screams, holds your limp body, and grieves your presence. He's ashamed to admit he couldn't pick his baby up for days after, that he had let dark circles grow, allowed darker thoughts to permeate his mind, consuming him.

How could he possibly look in his little girl's eyes and know she almost lost her mother? That in a split second, everything you two built together could have burned down in front of him? That when it mattered most, he was powerless as a man, as a husband, and as a father?

"You've been washing the same plate for five minutes, Ken. I think you need more sleep," you said, hugging him from behind.

He had wandered into his mind again, running on autopilot as he washed the dishes. Clearing his throat, he forced a smoothness into his voice. "Yes, you're probably right."

"Are you still thinking about going to the doctors?"

"Yes."

You sighed. "I'll be okay, Kento. You don't need to do that. We're going to be fine. Let's just live as we always did and let the universe take us where we need to."

Wet hands clutched your dry ones. There was a firmness to them, unyielding and tight. When he spoke, his tone commanded attention, rendering you as silent as the baby sleeping in her crib. He didn't turn around, likely couldn't, for he knew if he did, his resolve might just crumble.

"I won't leave your life in the hands of anyone else. I refuse. Your life holds more value to me than my own and I will not spend it so carelessly, leaving it in the hands of the universe or God or whomever else. I can't see you go through...that again. I can't. I w-wouldn't survive it. And I know you want more children because you think that's what I want, but sweetheart, I need you. I need you. You may never understand what I mean and that's alright. The life we have is good. It's perfect. I can't risk it. I won't. So, I'm sorry but I don't think there's anything you can say to change my mind."

Pressing a kiss in between his shoulder blades, you said, "I know."

Unending, your patience is commendable — you don't grouch when he wakes you up in the middle of the night just to make sure you’re still breathing or get irritated when he insists on carrying the heavy lifting around the house.

He took off more time out of work, desiring nothing more than staying at home so he can keep you fed, can take care of the baby whilst you catch up on sleep, and help you shower on unsteady legs.

Every moment, every kiss on his knuckles, every brush of your hand on his cheek, every admission of love bears a thousand times more weight now. The persistent crying in the middle of the night, the mess, the diaper-changes, the vomit on his clothes don't frustrate him; they're a mark of what you and him had fought so hard for.

This is the family he’s always wanted. The family he must protect. 

And damn it all if he lets it, you, slip away. 

So, he says, calmly and with the most certainty anyone can muster, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Jello! Had some time to make this since my exam was pushed later. Sorry for yet another angsty piece, I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. It's very rushed, as I'm sure you can tell. I think I'm a little out of practice cause it's been almost a week since I last wrote something

Well anyways, this is just a snack to keep you guys fed whilst you wait for me on the other side

Blessing and good tidings y'all

[buckybarnesslutshop]

Well, You’re Early

Alpha!Ceo!Bucky x Omega!Reader

CWs: SMUT, NSFW, MDNI 18+ Omegaverse, duh, breeding, nesting, Alpine mention, some teasing, the whole idea of scents, p in v, knotting, bit of cockwarming, overall kinda tame and sweet esp at the end

Nicknames used by Bucky: Omega, babygirl, baby, honey

Nicknames used by Reader: Buck, Alpha

A/N: Exam season is almost over so I cooked up a bit of self indulgence. That’s it that’s the fic. Probably not my best work but like I said this is for me so.

Summary: You wake up one morning feeling….. off. You think you’re coming down with a cold, maybe the flu, and decide to nest and rest while you wait for your Alpha to come home. But resting doesn’t go as planned, as it feels like the room suddenly gets hotter….

Bucky had already gone to work that morning by the time you woke up, something that wasn’t uncommon during the week. When you work up, you felt… off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you felt almost as if you were coming down with something. You wondered if you were just having some pre-heat symptoms, but it felt a bit more than that.

By the time you had made breakfast, taken a shower, and got dressed, you felt a bit more…. off. Something was definitely going on. You sighed, hoping it would be over by the time your heat started in about 5 days. Being sick on your heat was by far the worst experience a mated omega can experience short of losing their mate.

And so you started on some of the cleaning for the day, finishing the dishes from last night, vacuuming the floors, washing the sheets. You scooped Alpine’s litter and fed her breakfast. She looked at you curiously before eating it.

Fatigue started to hit you rapidly, and you decided to rebuild the nest so you would at least be cozy and content when sick. The fresh sheets were placed on the bed before you opened your closet to grab the blankets you set aside specifically for nesting. They always smelled like you and Bucky, and that was the point. You began to arrange them, fiddling the order of them here and there. You still felt rather… off, and you weren’t thinking much anymore.

You haphazardly dug through the laundry for a few of Bucky’s sweatshirts, and the ever-coveted red henley. You grabbed his blue one too. You grabbed your own sweatshirts, using them to further imbed the nest with your scents. By the time you were content, you curled up in the middle of the nest and decided to nap. Alpine padded in, jumping on the bed, and sniffing you. She gives you another look before leaving. That felt odd, you weren’t sure why she wasn’t lying with you as she normally would have, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to rest.

Less than an hour later, you woke up soaked in sweat, skin ablaze. “Must be a fever…” you muttered. You sat up abruptly, but immediately noticed the dehydration and vague feeling of dizziness. You crawled out of the next to grab water, but you barely made it out of the room before you stopped cold. There was a new sensation, of something warm, wet, and sticky running down your thigh. You panicked, immediately shoving a hand down your shorts and panties and running a finger along your slit. To your… horror? surprise?…. you felt a steady pool of slick forming. You stepped back, looking at the calendar by the bedroom door. 5 days. You weren’t due for 5 more days. What. The. Hell.

Bucky was in his office when he felt…. off. He sniffed around, thinking maybe someone new and imposing might’ve been around. There was no notable difference in the scents around the office. He continued clacking on his keyboard as his attention struggled to stay. He thought of his lovely wife back home, and decided to text her and check up on her.

He continued working, waiting for a reply, but it had been over half an hour. He assumed you were napping, until he felt heat begin to radiate from his mating mark under his button down. His brows furrowed. What was going on? It felt similar to your heat, but it wasn’t due for almost another week, and you were very regular with it. He sighed, checking his phone again. Still no reply. He got up, grabbing another cup of coffee. As he walks into his office again, though, he stops cold. He feels that sudden heat on his mark grow hotter as his skin begins to flush slightly. It’s barely noticeable, but he knows what it means. He needs to get home, now. He hoped he was wrong, because several clients were going to be pushing some events back if that were the case. His poor secretary.

You were lying in the nest, dildo in hand, trying to feel some sort of relief. Your phone was deposited somewhere on the floor with your clothes, never noticing Bucky’s text. You thrust it in and out rapidly. The air was thick, you could barely breathe, and your toy was barely doing anything. You sat up, deciding to change positions, but that didn’t help either. You decided to change again, back to your back, rubbing your clit, but nothing. You sighed, grabbing some more water. The heat rippled off of you, and the water did barely anything. You decided one last position was worth a try. You got on your knees, bending over to something akin to doggy, before reaching your arm under and thrusting the dildo in. It was your favorite way for Bucky to take you, save for a mating press, so it just had to work. And to a small degree, it was, as you hyper focused on reaching some sort of finish.

He unlocked the door, pushing it open. He got one foot in the door as the thick smell of you smacked him in the face: vanilla, peonies, and a thick layer of cherry, the biggest sign of your heat. He groaned softly to himself as he felt his cock harden. He quickly made his way inside and took his shoes and suit jacked off. He called out softly to you, but he never got a reply. His brows furrowed. He couldn’t hear anything until he made his way toward the bedroom where he heard your panting and muffled whines.

You suddenly felt the dildo pulled out of your hand, rapidly sitting up and turning, a growl making its way out of your throat before you realized who it was. You hadn’t even registered his scent, his voice calling for you when he walked in. Your eyes went wide as you whined.

“Oh babygirl…” he sighed, placing the soaked dildo on the bedside table. He grabbed the water bottle, handing it to you. You didn’t argue, sipping from it.

“Well….” he muttered, “You’re early.”

You sniffled, heat throbbing and skin burning. You looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. You whined, grabbing at his shirt. He laughed, saying “it’s ok baby, I’ll give you what you need. But just one question for you, omega,” he said. He began to unbutton his pants, taking them off for dramatic pause. “Tell me. Is your little dildo better, or is my cock better?”You flushed, remembering how you were caught.

“You’re better, Alpha, so much better,” you said breathlessly. His shirt was now off too, joining the pile of clothes. He stepped closer to the bed, grabbing your hand, and placing it on the bulge in his boxers. You let out a breathy exhale as you palmed him lightly. You were entranced already, eyes a bit glassy, as Bucky watched you in awe. His perfect little omega.

He crawled into the nest before manhandling you to turning back around on your knees. “This what you want, ‘mega? Want me pound into you from behind? Breed you in doggy, all messy and depraved?” He teased, watching with clear view from behind as you clenched around nothing and whined. “Yes please, Alpha,” you mumbled. He gently pushed you forward onto your chest and pulled your ass up so you sat on your knees.

You wriggled your hips back into his clothed cock, whimpering and needy. The heat was only progressively getting more consuming and you needed him so bad. He chuckled, telling you to wait, as he discarded his underwear. They joined the pile of clothes imbedded in the nest.

You had heard the thwack of his heavy cock hitting his lower abdominal, and you tried to hold back a whine. “You’re so wet for me, ‘mega, so pretty. Such a pretty baby for me,” he murmured, running a thick finger up and down your slit. He could’ve sworn he saw a fresh gush come out of you. “Need prepped baby? Or are you ready?”

You turned your head to the side, and out of the pillows, before quickly nodding and saying “Ready!” You saw him smile at your eagerness.

You felt him like himself up, but instead of inserting himself, you felt him first slide the head of his cock up and down your folds. A small moan escaped each time he tapped your clit with the head of his cock as your eyes began to cloud over. You whined before grumbling out a “stop teasin’ Alpha.” He laughed quietly.

“Alright alright, my needy little omega. I’ll give you want you want now,” he said, voice gravelly and deep. He lined himself up again, slowly pushing in, and oh how the dildo never compares. Never quite gets that spot, never quite stretches you so good, and it certainly doesn’t whisper sweet little teases into your ear.

He began thrusting slowly, enjoying the soft, warm feeling of your cunt clenching around him. The sound of your breathy whimpers were like a melody, and he could smell the deeper change in your scent as it became even more cherry dominated. He began thrusting faster, gripping one metal arm on your hip and on flesh hand against your upper back, holding you down.

“Such a good omega, lettin’ me breed you all pretty ‘n’ full of my pups. Is that what you wanted, honey?” He asks, tone teasing. You whine, nodding rapidly. “Yes please! Wanna be bred, Alpha, please!” you say as your hips were pushing back to meet his. He groans at your eager movements, feeling you flutter around him.

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!” you chanted, eyes fluttering back. He knew you were close, if not by the chanting then by the way your cunt gripped his cock so tight. He reached around to toy softly with your clit.

“Go on, ‘mega, cum for me pretty baby,” he muttered low and thick. You let out a choked sob, the feeling of your orgasm almost built to its peak.

“Cum- cum in me please Alpha! Knot me please?” You beg, words rolling out in a ramble of desperation and need. He groaned lowly, the grip on your hip tightening. “Gonna breed you, omega, don’t you worry. Just cum on my cock like a good girl, ok?” He said, mind going almost blank at the feeling of your warm, wet cunt.

You groaned, suddenly feeling yourself about to tip over the edge. “Fuck- fuck, fuck!” You screamed, “Bucky, Alpha!” And you felt your orgasm crash in, not far off the feeling of a tsunami crashing in, and your eyes rolled back so far you were seeing white. You heard Bucky say something along the lines of “Good omega, good girl, such a good girl,” as his groans grew louder and this thrusts sloppier.

You sure as HELL felt when he moaned as he came inside you, still recovering from your own orgasm, as you felt his knot inflate. Awareness creeped back in, and so did the ability to speak, but all that came out was a soft “fuck,” amongst all of your panting.

“You ok, ‘mega?” He asked, drawing soothing circles into your back. He was still inside you, still stretching you, still filling you, but these moments are the sweetest. You nodded, murmuring a quiet “Yes, Alpha,” as a small smile spread across your face.

He slowly maneuvers you so that you’re lying on his stomach, knot still filling you, as you sighed contentedly. It wouldn’t be the last time you had his knot in you over the next few days, and for that you’re excited, but for now, you were happy just to snuggle. He dozed off with you on his chest, half asleep yourself, flesh hand still in your hair from where he was petting you softly. You never noticed Alpine make her way to the edge of the nest and curl in, but she sure was there when you woke up.

[kjhbsies]

Heyy! Can I have a James Potter x reader "Because less than twenty feet away was Y/n. My Y/n. She's laughing. What was she laughing about? How could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?"

Either Bali or Morocco with a bit of Santorini pls? U can choose<3 Tysm

Bad Habit

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join my 500 celebration!

James Potter x photojournalist!reader

synopsis: She was just supposed to take the football games— not fall in love with a jock during a drunk game of 7 Minutes of Heaven. Now he’s questioning everything, including why he ever thought playing matchmaker with Sirius was a good idea.

wordcount: 3, 029

note: Prompt: "Because less than twenty feet away was Y/n. My Y/n. She's laughing. What was she laughing about? How could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?" + Morocco: the almost-kiss. fluff again! thanks for the request, i appreciated it (though, i must admit, i found it hard to think of a particular scene that would go well with the prompt) this is modern football player!james REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It started like a lot of college friendship does— accidentally, inconveniently, and with far too much sweat involved.

You were one of the photojournalists of your university's student publication, and he was the James Potter— star athlete, Gryffindor's varsity football captain, and walking ray of sunshine. You were usually behind the lens, trying to capture the perfect shot of their games— the intensity, the movement, the dedication of every player in the field. But no matter how hard you tried, your shots always seemed to be hijacked by him, James, with his boyish grin, striking some ridiculous pose mid-game like he was in a photoshoot for Vogue.

At first, you didn't get it. Why the hell was he flirting with your camera?

And it's actually when Lily Evans, one of the newswriters, had come to join you at the Gryffindor's game— that you realized that he was just using you to get close to her.

Naturally, you gave him the cold shoulder. Sure, you and Lily were friends, but not to the extent that you knew everything about her. Hell, you didn't even know that he was her crush for years. So, it'd be creepy if you gave him any details about her life. And besides, you don't have time to play messenger for another desperate jock crushing on your friend.

But James, being James, took it as a challenge. Every game? Wink. Smile. Kissy face. Every water break? 'Hey, camera girl, getting my good side?' You tried ignoring him. Really did. But then he started bringing you snacks to your post-game editing sessions. He started sitting beside you on every bus ride. He always caught you in one of the cafes you frequented and treated you to an iced Spanish latte because he said, 'Photographers are always fueled by caffeine.'

The worst part? It worked.

Little by little, the annoyingly loud and arrogant jock turned out to be just... loud. And goofy. And surprisingly genuine. You caught glimpses of his big heart: the way he comforted his teammates after a lost game, the way he checked in on everyone after practice, and how he always made sure his friends were happy. You saw past the bravado and found something lovable in James Potter. And it sucked.

Because, of course, he was still madly in love with Lily. Even if he'd toned down the dramatic serenades and public declarations, he still got that look in his eyes when she walked by. So you buried your feelings, deep, deep down where they couldn't hurt you— or worse, embarrass you.

To make things worse, James got it in his head that you were into Sirius Black. You don't know how it started, maybe you and Sirius bantered a little too naturally after a bus ride home, or maybe James just wanted to believe it so badly. Whatever the reason, he took it as gospel.

"Oh, come on, Y/n. You and Sirius? Absolute perfection." He said with a stupid grin.

You rolled your eyes. "We don't have anything in common, James."

"Oh, you do! You both like... leather and sarcasm."

"Leather?" You repeated.

"Don't question the method, just trust the Cupid."

Sirius, of course, found it hilarious. The guy knew about your feelings accidentally when he found you staring too deeply while watching James and Lily interact. And when you told him about James's assumption, he grinned, shrugged, and just said, 'Well, I am devastatingly handsome,' and he also planned to just play it along just to shut James up.

Which brings us tonight.

Frank's house was packed— an absolute zoo of sweaty students celebrating Gryffindor's third win in a row. Tables were full of beer pong, someone was passed out on the stairs, and the air was thick with cigarettes and weed (thanks to Remus's magic stash). And James— James was distracted.

His friends were talking in the living room. Peter was gesturing animatedly at the couch, but James kept drifting his attention to the nearby kitchen, where you and Sirius were situated.

You were standing by the stereo with Sirius, laughing at something he'd said, one of his rings glinting under the lights as he casually draped an arm around your shoulders. You laughed again, head tilting back, and James choked on his beer.

"What are you looking at?" Remus asked, sipping from a red cup beside him.

"Nothing."

"You look constipated."

"I am not." James glared at him. "Do you reckon they're already together and they're not telling me?" He asked, eyes trained on you and Sirius again.

"Ah, I see." Remus hummed. "Wouldn't be surprised if they already are."

"She's laughing at his jokes."

"So?"

"I tell funny jokes, too."

"Mhm. Do you also tell them with your hands on her hips?"

James flushed. "We're friends."

"So are you and Wormy. But you don't let him cuddle you at parties."

Peter suddenly appeared beside the two of them with snacks. "Would if you asked."

James groaned.

A soft creeakk echoed through the room, despite the music blaring. And everyone turned to look at the random, ancient-looking broom closet emerging from seemingly nowhere.

Frank stood beside it proudly, eyes wide with mischief. "This is the momentum killer of the night!"

Marlene, already tipsy with a red solo cup in hand, a backwards hat on, and a pair of sunglasses, let out a cheer. "Seven Minutes in Heaven!" She screamed.

A chorus of gasps and drunken giggles escaped across the room.

"We spin the bottle, whoever lands it on goes in the closet for seven minutes! You can talk, kiss, declare your love, or hell— even shag, we don't care! We won't judge— well, maybe a little. Just be entertaining!"

Everyone clapped like seals, even Remus, who had already fallen sideways onto a bean bag.

Now, a giant circle was formed, where everyone wanted to participate. You and Sirius were curled up on one of the couches, situated directly across from James. You had been sipping someone's leftover whiskey cola— definitely not yours, but you had lost yours an hour ago. No one was sober. Not even Remus, who had been munching a suspicious brownie earlier.

You were already tipsy, cheeks warm, head dizzy, when the first spin landed on Remus and Mary. Everyone howled.

The two shuffled awkwardly into the tiny broom closet. Seven minutes later, they emerged looking disheveled— Mary's necklace was backwards, and Remus's neatly ironed clothes were wrinkled.

Second spin: Peter and Marlene.

You don't know what happened in there, but there was yelling, loud banging, and when they came out, Peter had no socks on, and Marlene was holding one of Peter's shoes like a weapon. No one asked what happened.

Third spin.

The bottle slowed.

It ticked past Frank.

Past Dorcas.

Past Sirius.

And then it stopped. Right between you and James.

"OOOHH!" Sirius hollered. "This is gonna be so good!"

James blinked. You blinked. The room? Roared.

"Go on, camera girl!" One of James's teammates clapped.

"Use protection!" Remus yelled before falling asleep on Sirius's shoulder.

Marlene shoved both of you inside the broom closet. "Try not to destroy the shelf in there. Or do. Your seven minutes start now." She winked before slamming the door shut.

You two were way too close. James took up more than half the tiny closet— he was tall, broad, and definitely not designed for this cramped space.

Both of you sat down after a few minutes, your knees touching, breath mingling in the closed air. The small bulb did its job on lighting up the space, though still dim, you could still make up the shape of his jaw, the wild hairs curling around his ears, and—

"You're staring," James said with a smirk.

"Really?" You tried playing it cool. "Surprised you could see me with those things." You shot back, pointing at James's foggy eyeglasses.

James chuckled, removing them and shoving them into his pockets. "Fair point. What are we even supposed to do here?"

"Try not to suffocate?" You smiled. "And not sit on each other's laps accidentally?"

"Too late for that," He mumbled, shifting slightly as his knees brushed against yours. "Okay, how about a game? Try to get each other more?"

"Classic stalling tactic." You teased, but smiled anyway. "Alright. What's your favorite color?"

"Red and gold."

"Called it. You're waaayy predictable, Potter."

James snickered. "Your turn. How about... what was your worst experience as a photojournalist?"

You groaned. "Took the best shots in my whole life. Chef's kiss. Only to realize later that my SD card was corrupted."

James winced. "Ouch. That's brutal."

"Tell me about it." You shrugged. "Okay— your favorite coach among everyone that has handled your team?"

He hummed, placing a hand on his chin. "That's a tough one. But... probably Coach Jason."

"Oh, really? The guy who made you run 30 laps at 6 AM?"

"He's tough, yeah. But I can tell he was genuine among everyone else. Made us better."

You nodded, impressed. "Alright, fair."

"How about... who's your favorite football player?"

"Number 3. Sirius Orion Black."

James let out a loud gasp, clutching his chest dramatically as if in mock betrayal. "Y/n! I was hurt! I was your first friend. I was the award-winning captain! I always bring you coffee and snacks when you're hungry!"

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth. "Okay, okay, relax! Fine, I was kidding. Of course, you're my number one favorite!"

"Promise?"

You nodded, sincere. "Yes, James. I promise."

A beat of silence.

James cleared his throat, "Okay... here's one: did you ever have a crush on any of the football players?"

You froze.

Your brain screamed at you to lie. Say no. Say someone else.

But maybe it was the alcohol consuming your veins. Or maybe it was this tight, hot space. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you. Those damn hazel eyes.

So, you nodded. "Yeah... #7. James Fleamont Potter."

Silence.

Dead, awful silence.

James stared at you like you just smacked him with a ball. "You what—? Since... when?"

You tried to keep your voice light. "A couple of months ago. But it's fine. It's just a silly, happy crush."

James blinked. "Happy—?"

"You know, soft, small, not too serious." You replied quickly, trying to lie your way out of this awkward situation. "It's whatever. It's done." It isn't.

"Done?"

You nodded, smiling bitterly. "Yeah, I just saw how you were so deeply enamored by Lily, so I kind of... stopped. But, I really liked you before."

Done.

Liked.

Stopped.

The words rattled in James's brain like an echo.

He sat there, stunned, lips parted to say something, but didn't know how.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to Potter?"

Still nothing.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable. Your foot had gone numb from the cramped position. But as you adjusted, James also moved— just a fraction, really— and suddenly, you lost balance.

With a yelp, you tumbled forward. Right onto James.

Both of you froze.

Your faces were inches apart. Lips practically brushing. You could smell the faint beer on it, and see his stupidly handsome face up close.

He gulped.

His hands instinctively landed on your waist, holding you firmly. His eyes darted to your lips.

"Uh," You smiled awkwardly. "Hi?"

Then—

SLAM.

The closet door swung open.

"Time's up, lovers— WOAH!" Marlene shrieked.

Everyone turned to see... you... practically on top of James, his hands on your waist, faces a few centimeters apart from each other.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Remus clapped.

Peter yelled, “Knew it!"

You scrambled off James, flustered beyond reason, brushing your hair back as if it would erase the last seven minutes. James looked equally stunned, blinking like he’d forgotten how to function.

Sirius was grinning ear to ear. “So... was it hot in there, or was it just you two?”

You glared at him.

James looked at you.

You looked at James.

And for the first time since the night began, neither of you was pretending anymore.

"Did they kiss?"

"Was that a... straddle?"

"Why did Captain Potter look like he got hit by a football?"

You sighed, trying to ignore the whispers going around. But none of that mattered, though, because as soon as you sat beside Sirius, he nudged you while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Sooo... what happened in there, closet goblin?"

You sighed dramatically and leaned into him, head resting on his shoulder. "I confessed."

Sirius choked on his drink. "You what?!"

"But not like a cute confession," You stared at him, eyes widening. "Like... I-don't-know-why-I-said-that-I-blamed-the-alcohol-and-my-soul type of confession. I said I liked him. Past tense. And then I panicked and told him it was just a silly crush."

Sirius blinked. "Oh."

You nodded slowly. "...Yeah."

Then he blinked again. "...Oh?"

"Please say something coherent."

He grinned, "So you're telling me that you," He pointed at you. "Y/n Y/l/n, keeper of secrets, and hater of feelings, went inside a tiny closet, then came out confessing a crush... and then lied about moving on? A bit bold move, actually. Though I might say that was great."

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "My heart is still pounding like I ran a bloody marathon. I literally fell on top of him. Our lips almost touched. And I'm pretty sure I saw God for 0.3 seconds when he looked at me like that."

"Like what?"

You looked at him and imitated James's face— doe eyes and a pout, to which Sirius snorted.

"Oh, yeah, that's the Potter's dumbstruck in love face, alright."

You smacked his arm, and both of you started laughing.

Meanwhile, across the room, James Potter, star athlete, certified himbo, and former emotionally stable individual, was leaning against the wall while clutching a red solo cup filled with cold water.

Remus, red-faced from him and Mary's 7 Minutes of Heaven and from drunkenness, stood beside him. "You looked like you just walked out of a Greek tragedy."

James gulped his water. "She confessed."

Remus looked at him, dumbfounded. It's as if the alcohol went out of his body completely.

"...Like confessed confessed?"

James nodded dumbly, eyes still glued on you and Sirius laughing together.

Reemus peered in your direction. "And? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong is— I'm confused!" James whispered-yelled, gesturing to himself and sloshing water on his shirt. "I thought I liked Lily!"

"Thought?" Remus raised an eyebrow.

James ignored him. "And now— now, she was laughing with Sirius like they're starring at a romcom, and I feel like someone should just punch me back to reality."

"I'll volunteer, but go on." Remus patted his shoulder.

"She said she liked me. Liked, Moony! Past bloody tense. And I'm just— why didn't she say anything earlier? I would've done something!"

"Would you?"

James stopped. He paused, pondering everything.

"...Yeah." He admitted sincerely. "Yeah, I would've. Because how couldn't you fall for her? During those times, we were just playing hide and seek in our own little world and calling it friendship. But it was her. It was always her. And now I feel like a bloody idiot because I told Pads to flirt with her just so I wouldn't fall harder!"

Remus gaped at him. "You told Padfoot to— oh, my, Merlin, you created your own love triangle. You're dumb as hell."

"I know!" James whispered-yelled again. "And now I am so, so mad!"

Remus's brow shot up. "And why is that?"

"Because less than ten feet away is Y/n. My Y/n. She's laughing. What was she laughing about? How could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?"

Remus's lips parted. "That was oddly poetic."

"I've evolved."

Remus sighed. "Now, listen. If you're just confused, then let it go. But if you actually want something, then ask her to start over. Do it properly. No closets. No Sirius interference. Just you and her."

James nodded, taking everything that Remus had said.

And then, without hesitation, he downed the rest of his water like vodka and muttered "showtime" under his breath before making a beeline to where you were.

"Can I steal you for a sec?"

You looked up, blinking rapidly. "What?"

"You know, just the two of us. T-to talk..." James scratched the back of his neck.

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. "Oops. Say less." He gave James a playful salute before standing up from the couch.

You stared at James, absolutely embarrassed. "Is this about what I've said in the closet? Because I swear I was drunk and probably malfunctioning like my SD card—"

He shook his head, then offered you his hand again, like earlier. "Let's start over."

"What?"

"Let's start over," He repeated, kneeling in front of you so you two were at eye level. "Hi, I'm James Fleamont Potter. I'm an Aries, I like football, and I'm currently suffering from an existential crisis brought by a pretty photojournalist who just confessed that she used to like me. And I was wondering if she'd give me a shot to get to know her without pretending I'm into someone else."

You blinked. "You're not into Lily?"

"I thought I was. Turns out, I was just scared. Because you? You terrify the living shit out of me. And not in a bad way. You terrify me in a way that makes me want to be better, funnier, maybe even take those stupid foggy eyeglasses and stare at you properly. So. Start over?"

You smiled. "Alright. I'm Y/n. I like breaking the rules of every party game. I almost once committed arson trying to get a good shot. And I'm trying not to kiss the boy kneeling in front of me."

James's ears went beet red. "Then don't try."

You both stared at each other— heart pounding, breath uneven— and as your faces leaned in just an inch closer—

Marlene’s voice boomed across the room.

“IF YOU’RE GONNA KISS, DO IT IN THE CLOSET LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!!”

Everyone cackled.

James flipped her off, and you just giggled, cheeks burning, heart fluttering.

And then, finally, he kissed you. Right there on the couch.

And you were 100% sure it was better than any seven minutes in any stupid cabinet.

©kjhbsies

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 6] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers (maybe?), some kissing, ex-boyfriend, Mrs. Kruger, some tears, an unpleasant situation, some romance, some nerves

A/N: I wish I could write better to show what I have in my head when I plan this story. I'm not completely happy with it, but I hope it's just my mood and being overwhelmed. Thank you for every heart and reblog and comment. I don't want to demand or put pressure on you, but if you wrote a few words, I would be glad that I could read what you think about it all. Thank you for being here!

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

When you woke up in the morning, you felt a strange anxiety in your chest. Even though the previous evening had been really pleasant, nothing more had happened between you and Harry except for that kiss, you had the impression that you had crossed a certain line that you shouldn't have crossed. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol or the influence of the stars, but you couldn't hide one thing - you really liked that kiss.

"But he's your boss..." you groaned, rinsing your face with cold water. You repeated the same words later while taking a shower and getting dressed, as well as in the elevator and on your way to the dining room for breakfast.

But as soon as you saw Harry sitting at a table covered with a snow-white tablecloth, the thought that had been occupying your head quickly disappeared.

He noticed you as you entered the room. Your simple, casual dress nicely emphasized your shapes as you headed to his table.

"Good morning." he greeted, rising slightly.

"Hi." you replied with a smile, sitting down next to him "Have you been waiting long?"

"I just got here." Harry nodded to the waiter and he immediately appeared next to you "Would you like some coffee?"

After a moment, coffee and your breakfast appeared on the table. All the worries you had were blurred in the casual and pleasant conversation, and Harry didn't once refer to yesterday evening, for which you were grateful. If Harry had different impressions than you, you didn't want it to cast a shadow over such a promising day.

"Do you have any meetings today?" you asked, putting a piece of croissant in your mouth and reaching for your phone "I could work in the meantime. I'm sure I have a backlog of emails and..."

The phone slipped out of your hand and Harry without hesitation pressed the side button, turning it off. The screen went black. "We're not working today." he said, a mischievous smile appearing on his face "Neither you nor I. Tomorrow we go back to New York, we should use this day."

"What do you mean?" you asked surprised "Harry, your clients won't be happy if..."

"They can handle it." he interrupted you, took a sip of coffee, and then smiled again "We can spend this day however we want. Do whatever we want, eat whatever we want."

You watched him carefully as if you wanted to catch him in some trick. Maybe he was joking and just checking your reaction? You guessed that there must have been a few unread emails in your inbox, not to mention other messages. But your switched off phone was still resting on the table next to Harry, and his brown eyes were staring at you with audacity.

"Are you serious?" you asked finally.

He nodded. “Of course. You haven’t seen much yet, but if you just want to go to the beach, that’s fine with me.”

He noticed right away how you frowned and looked at him suspiciously. However, when you spoke, the corners of your mouth turned up slightly. "You just want to see me in a swimsuit again."

Harry raised both hands. "Guilty. But can you blame me?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but... Damn it. Let's do this."

When Harry said you could do whatever you wanted, he really meant it. In the rented car, you set off through the streets of the city, visiting all the most popular places. You couldn't take your eyes off what the city had to offer, you admired the beautiful people, buildings, iconic places. Even though Harry had been to LA many times, he never once let you feel that he was bored. On the contrary, he accompanied you everywhere and was present one hundred percent.

Hidden behind his black glasses, he watched the delight in your eyes and the smile that never left your lips. Those small details and gestures that he knew so well about you, now seemed even more expressive to him.

He was afraid that after what had happened between you, some tension would appear, but you were so free with him that Harry felt relief. He didn't want to ruin your friendship, but he didn't think that what had happened was bad either.

"Harry! Come, you have to see this."

"But you wanted coffee." he was surprised, but you had already grabbed his hand and pulled him in front of a shop window with some trinkets to show him something. His brain didn't even understand what you were saying to him, he was only focused on how your hand fit perfectly in his.

You ate lunch in a nice little restaurant, and then ice cream in some booth by the beach. When in the evening you found yourself in a crowd of people and Harry, so as not to lose you, grabbed your hand again, you didn't let go of it even when your steps headed towards the beach.

“I’m gonna miss this sun,” you said as the waves lazily lapped at your feet.

“It’s only a few hours of flying. We can fly back anytime you want.”

You looked at him. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, his pants pulled up so the waves wouldn't get them wet, and his face was directed straight at the setting sun. He looked really handsome. The wind gently played with the strands of his curly hair, and his skin glowed as if Harry himself was the sun.

"You probably say that to all your assistants." you said, and he burst out laughing.

"Only to you, darling, I assure you." he replied.

"Such cheesy." you shook your head, but you couldn't hide your smile. "Oh, any woman would fall in love with you, Mr. Castillo."

He watched with interest as you lowered your head and lifted your foot slightly, playing with the waves that were steadily hitting the shore. This moment seemed to him cut out of life, where there was nothing more than you. Maybe that's why he decided to ask.

"And you?" you looked up at him. "Could you fall in love with someone like that?"

"Not with someone. That's not what you want to ask, is it?"

You were right. That wasn't what he was asking you. He wanted to know if you could fall in love with him. Was that even possible? You had crossed the line between boss and assistant a long time ago. The long evenings that you theoretically spent together at work, but in reality you just talked, the dinners, the occasional movie together, and many other things when you were just two friends.

“I think we make a good duo,” he finally said. “In and out of work. You know what I mean?”

You nodded.

“I would get first prize for Assistant Of The Year?”

“Definitely.” He frowned suddenly. “Does such a thing exist?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea. But I like working for you, Harry. I really do.”

“And I like spending time with you.” You smiled. “You’re smart, funny, beautiful…”

“Oh God, don’t do that…” you mumbled, feeling the heat rise to your neck.

Harry took a step toward you. “What shouldn’t I be doing?”

“That! You make me feel… embarrassed.”

One more step. “Is it bad? Tell me, when I kissed you last night, was it embarrassing?”

You took a deep breath, your chest heaving, and your eyes briefly darted away from the people walking in the distance. When you looked back at Harry, he had already taken off his glasses, his eyes looking at you softly, as if waiting for that one answer.

“No.” You answered quietly. “It was nice. Very nice, even.”

“I liked it too.” He replied. You didn’t even flinch as he gently brushed away a strand of hair that the playful wind had been playing with in your face. “And you know what? I still want more.”

His fingers gently trailed over your jaw, then down your neck to your shoulder. A warm shiver ran down your spine. You were almost certain Harry could hear your heart beating, he was so close. He waited for just one signal and he got it a moment later when a quiet, "So take what you want, Harry..." left your lips. And so he did.

His lips captured yours in a sweet and gentle kiss. Carefully, as if you were both exploring the area, testing how much you could allow yourself. His hand slid into your hair, pulling your face closer, the other rested on your hip, as if he was afraid you would run away. But you didn't have that in mind.

The scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of the sea, and you felt completely intoxicated by Harry. You gave yourself over to this moment completely, against all arguments of logic. Parted lips were an invitation to him. Without hesitation, Harry deepened the kiss, his soft tongue slipped in and you moaned quietly. The bastard smiled, you felt it.

"What?" you whispered. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, still smiling.

"Nothing." he rubbed his nose against yours, still smiling, until you finally patted his chest and pulled away.

"You're unbearable, you know that?"

Even though you stepped back, Harry's fingers slid down your arm and then tightened around your wrist. He tugged lightly, pulling you back to him. "And you're cute."

You rolled your eyes. This guy was taking you apart with childish ease.

"Tell me..." you looked at Harry with interest, "When we get back to New York, will you go out with me? On a real date?"

You watched him carefully, analyzing his words. There was nothing but sincerity in Harry's eyes.

"Do you really want this?" you asked.

He tilted his head, smiling. "Of course I do. I wanted to ask you out two weeks after you showed up at my office."

You shook your head in disbelief and giggled. “Okay. I can’t keep Harry Castillo waiting for me any longer.” He pulled you in again, kissing you lightly. You gladly let him.

Your suitcase was almost packed when you closed the door behind you and went to breakfast. You had a few hours before you were supposed to be at the airport, so you and Harry didn't have to rush. The elevator stopped on the ground floor, and you entered the lobby. You hadn't even taken a few steps when someone said your name.

"Daniel?" You frowned in surprise, not really knowing what was going on. "What... What are you doing here?"

The man smiled, walking up to you. It looked like he had to wait here. "We flew in at night. Nice to see you."

"Is Beth with you?" You looked around the lobby, but didn't see a familiar face.

"It's a business trip."

He didn't need to say anything more. A heavy stone fell into your stomach as you looked towards the dining room door. You already knew who you would meet there.

"And you?" he asked.

"W-what?"

Daniel smiled, then lightly placed his hand on your elbow and led you towards the dining room door. "I think you could use some coffee. Still drinking the same one?"

You noticed them immediately as you entered the sunlit hotel dining room. Many of the tables were occupied by guests, but where you usually sat, Mrs. Kruger-Waltz was now sitting with Harry. Her blonde hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, and her lips stretched into a dazzling smile. She rested her chin on her hand, completely engrossed in her conversation with Harry.

A cup of coffee was pressed into your hand, and Daniel led you straight to the table you had been eyeing.

“Mrs. Kruger, Mr. Castillo.” Daniel greeted politely, and Diane looked at you.

“Oh! It’s good to see you.” She said. “I was just telling Harry how hard it is to find you here. Could you answer the phone or at least answer your emails, darling? I thought you were responsible for that.”

Harry cleared his throat. “We’ve been busy.” He replied. “Sorry, Diane. I’m to blame too.”

Yes, he was. The phone he had turned off was still at the bottom of your bag. You hadn’t had time to check your emails. Cold sweat ran down your back at the thought of what you would find when you turned those devices on.

“Harry…” Diane placed a tender hand on Castillo’s shoulder. “That’s what we have assistants for. I think she should face the consequences of her negligence. But never mind!” she smiled happily. “I have some really good friends in Los Angeles that you should meet. Working with them could really benefit you.”

You noticed the quick glance Harry gave you. You must have looked like an idiot, standing at the table with a cup of coffee in your hand and complete surprise in your eyes.

“I have to apologize again, Diane, but we’re leaving today. In a few hours…”

“That’s no problem. I have my own private jet.” The woman took a sip of her coffee and winked. “Your assistant can fly back to New York on her own, right? Will you be okay?”

"Y-yes." You stuttered in surprise. "Of course."

"You see! Brave girl." Diane beamed. "She'll have a lot of work to catch up on, and we'll have a nice time here."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't have the courage to look at Harry, because Diane was watching you carefully. Finally, someone gently squeezed your elbow, said goodbye to them for you, and led you out of the dining room.

"You look really good, you know that?"

Daniel's words tore you out of your stupor. You looked at him in surprise and carelessly tilted your mug, spilling coffee on yourself.

"Fuck!" you hissed louder than you intended. You put the mug down on the small table by the wall and saw a stain on your shirt. "Ugh! Not that."

Daniel watched you carefully, a smile never leaving his lips. "Hey, don't worry. It's just a shirt." he said. “You’ll have time to change before the flight.”

“Yeah, I know.” You mumbled. “I just… didn’t expect you’d be here. If I checked my email or something…”

You felt a familiar touch on your shoulder, and Daniel placed a hand on it, trying to calm you down.

“Nothing happened. We all make mistakes sometimes, right? You’ll go home and make up for it.”

You quickly glanced at the door where you had left Harry and Diana. An unpleasant feeling of disappointment washed over you. You felt like you had let down not only Harry, but Kruger-Waltz as well, even though she wasn’t your boss. If you weren’t standing in the middle of the hall, you probably would have burst into tears.

“Listen…” Daniel caught your attention again. He pulled a white business card and a pen out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “If you need any help or… want to talk.” He scribbled something on the back of the card and handed it to you. “Call anytime. You know, I always liked talking to you.”

You looked at the card and then at Daniel, completely confused by the whole situation. In the meantime, he led you to the elevator, pressed the button, and the doors opened.

The next few hours passed at an alarming rate. Checking out of the hotel, taking a taxi to the airport, checking in and heading to the terminal. Your brain was on autopilot and you weren't entirely sure what to think.

In the morning, when you woke up, you felt like you had touched the sky, and at this point you were already down. You hadn't had a chance to talk to Harry and honestly, you wouldn't even know what to say. You felt like you had let him down, that your resignation letter was already on his desk. You shouldn't have let him turn off your phone, or at least you should have done your chores when you weren't with him or kissing him.

When you got on the plane, you felt even worse, if that was even possible. You sank into your seat and stared out the window. You exploded. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you hastily pressed your hand to your mouth to hold back a sob.

You hadn't felt this humiliated in a long time.

"Is this seat free?"

Shit. You wiped your tears with your sleeve and nodded. "Y-yes, go ahead." You waved your hand, trying to hide your face from the passenger sitting next to you. From the quiet sounds, you guessed he had taken the seat that was supposed to be Harry's.

"Did you enjoy LA?" the voice next to you said again.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and not sound desperate. "I really had a good time here."

"I'm glad to hear that. Are you free this week?"

"You know, I'm really not..." you turned to the other person and froze. Harry sat down right next to you, a gentle smile on his lips. He was clearly pleased with the effect of surprise and your expression.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Diane... She's waiting for you, Harry."

"I had to decline her offer. I hope she takes it well, although she didn't seem thrilled." he replied.

You looked at him, completely speechless. A few moments passed before you spoke again.

"You shouldn't have done that. You were supposed to sign a contract... Your company could have lost a lot of money." You spoke so quickly that even if Harry wanted to interrupt you, he wouldn't have succeeded. "You should have stayed in Los Angeles. I've already caused so much trouble. Of course, I understand that my resignation is just a formality..."

"Hey! Stop it." Harry grabbed your hand and that made you fall silent. "I won't accept any resignation, not from you."

“But Kruger…”

“Mrs. Kruger-Waltz is not someone my company would want to work with. Her attitude towards people in lower positions goes against my principles. As my assistant, you should know that.”

Your eyes widened even more, but you didn’t say anything. You stared at Harry with a mixture of awe and fear. Had he really rejected Diane and appeared on that plane?

“You should stay.” You finally said quietly.

He looked at you, then smiled gently. “One woman promised me a date. She’s worth coming back for.”

You shook your head in disbelief, but you smiled back. This was crazy. But it was Harry.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

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[snowgray]

I think that they need to include the full interviews verbatim, as well as the directions; I can imagine a college kid, who is doing this for free, not realizing the extent of how much they're allowed to look up, because there is a ton of required context knowledge. Or also not caring that much because they’re doing this for free and it’s not a grade. Also, this book might have been a masterpiece of social activism writing in its time, but it is fucking boring and dense now.

Here’s a few paragraphs. This took me about 45 minutes, but I’m pretty sick. Also I am very good at and highly educated in English, and this was my second read-through (I've never read the whole book; I read this and the preface when the first post about the study was going around).

Paragraph 1

London. <— We’re in London. Maybe this is a diary because people sometimes start diary entries with where they are (and the next sentence sorta gives that vibe too).

Michaelmas term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. <— Michaelmas is in the autumn, which I sorta knew from Jane Austen, but can definitely say for sure based on the sentence after this one. I looked up Chancery from the chapter title, so I know it’s a court. I fully read about 10 minutes of content about the Chancery and I’m still not sure what it involves, other than, like, property and custody cases? The Lord Chancellor is, I’m assuming, the judge of this court, and Lincoln’s Inn Hall must be where the court is physically located.

Implacable November weather. <— The weather is shitty, but also implacable is a person whose mind can’t be changed, so that might be some foreshadowing.

As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. <— This “wonderful” is the use of, like, surprising, not the modern use. The weather is so bad it’s like the flood of Noah just receded and dinosaurs are still roaming the earth. Although this dinosaur sounds kinda cute because he’s waddling. Or it's a commentary on fat rich people.

Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots, making a soft black drizzle, with flakes of soot in it as big as full-grown snowflakes—gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun. <— I already know that London in this time had an epic smog problem, but between the rain and the smog, everything is blackened. The mood is also dark because the rain is related to ‘mourning.’ Dickens sure do be layin’ it on thick.

Dogs, undistinguishable in mire. <— The dogs are covered in mud, to the point that you don’t know what they are.

Horses, scarcely better; splashed to their very blinkers. <— Horses are muddied up to their eyes (blinkers/blinders were worn to keep them from being frightened in crowded cities).

Foot passengers, jostling one another’s umbrellas in a general infection of ill temper, and losing their foot-hold at street-corners, where tens of thousands of other foot passengers have been slipping and sliding since the day broke (if this day ever broke), adding new deposits to the crust upon crust of mud, sticking at those points tenaciously to the pavement, and accumulating at compound interest. <— Dickens is laying on the description as thick as the mud here. Everyone is grumpy and bumping each other with their umbrellas. The crowds of London have been slipping on this forever, the day seems to have lasted forever and also never dawned (if this day ever broke), and the extended bad weather is ‘accumulating at compound interest,’ increasing at a fast pace. Since we know courts about property are coming up because we looked up Chancery, the compound interest is in the vein of bad-stuff-lawyers/bankers-do.

Paragraph 2

Fog everywhere. <— It’s foggy.

Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; <— I looked up ait and it’s an island in a river. I’m assuming this is the Thames. Upriver sounds like the pretty neighborhood compared to:

fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. <— Downriver is the industrial area. Where it is also, you guessed it, real foggy.

Fog on the Essex marshes, fog on the Kentish heights. <— Fog in some more places. I didn't look this up because fuck geography.

Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs; <— Fog on the ships carrying coal (I looked up collier).

fog lying out on the yards and hovering in the rigging of great ships; <— Fog in the shipyards and the ropes of the ships.

fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats. <— Fog on more boats. At this point, I know Dickens is doing something with the repetition of fog, but I don’t think it’s possible to argue that someone could know *yet* what the fog is symbolizing.

Fog in the eyes and throats of ancient Greenwich pensioners, wheezing by the firesides of their wards; <— Fog is choking the old people (pensioners) who are sickly (wheezing) and possibly in some non-home housing situation (wards). 

fog in the stem and bowl of the afternoon pipe of the wrathful skipper, down in his close cabin; <— Finally, an allusion to Gilligan’s Island! JK, there’s some angry boatman who can’t light his pipe (maybe) because it’s all damp and foggy.

fog cruelly pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little ’prentice boy on deck. <— More social commentary! Dickens did love that. This poor impoverished working child is foggily cold. Personification as the fog ‘pinches’ this kid.

Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon and hanging in the misty clouds. <— A simile comparing the density of the fog to a cloud; the people on the ground may feel as if they’re up in the sky because it’s just that foggy. Again, I can tell the fog is going to mean something, but I don’t think I have enough knowledge to know yet why this is here. It has big “snow was general all over Ireland” vibes, in the sense that a wide variety of people are impacted by the fog, though perhaps not any rich people? And also Joyce came later.

Paragraph 3

Gas looming through the fog in divers places in the streets, much as the sun may, from the spongey fields, be seen to loom by husbandman and ploughboy. <— The gas lamps aren’t really making a lot of headway versus the fog. But, it’s as important to the Londoners as the sun is to farmers. Except, IDK, does the sun loom? That’s a pretty darkish word. Keeping up with the dreary tone ol’ Dicksey has established.

Most of the shops lighted two hours before their time—as the gas seems to know, for it has a haggard and unwilling look.  <— The gas seems to be weak, since it was lit early (like literally you could have less gas if there was a lot of gas going at the same time; that's the plot of Gaslight), and also is ‘haggard and unwilling.’ Like, even the fucking light doesn’t want to be out right now. Also this might be an allusion or foreshadowing to the ineffectiveness of some kind of good that is fighting some kind of evil.

Paragraph 4

The raw afternoon is rawest, and the dense fog is densest, and the muddy streets are muddiest near that leaden-headed old obstruction, appropriate ornament for the threshold of a leaden-headed old corporation, Temple Bar. <— I had to look up Temple Bar, because my memory of it was, like, the one place I’ve been drunk in Ireland? Turns out in *London* it’s the entrance to London from Westminster? And maybe some courts were there? Anyway, the description as “leaden-headed” and “obstruction” gives big “here be the evil institution” vibes.

And hard by Temple Bar, in Lincoln’s Inn Hall, at the very heart of the fog, sits the Lord High Chancellor in his High Court of Chancery. <— Sounds like the Lord High Chancellor is petting his bald cat and holding his pinky to his mouth because he’s the very baddest bad guy in the heart of the fog.

Paragraph 5

Never can there come fog too thick, never can there come mud and mire too deep, to assort with the groping and floundering condition which this High Court of Chancery, most pestilent of hoary sinners, holds this day in the sight of heaven and earth. <— Ah ha. The mud and fog are representing the condition of the court. People are ‘groping and floundering’ with the court, so it’s difficult for them to get… results? Recognition? The court is like a disease (pestilent) and is unrepentant (sinners) and is old (hoary).

So I decided to read the actual study (link) - it's totally free. TL;DR: the study is testing how well people in the 21st century can understand the specific nuances of 19th century London. This is not "reading comprehension", they are testing whether you know things like what a "Michaelmas Term" (Wikipedia) is. This is... to put it politely, not a normal part of reading comprehension in any sort of day to day task. This study is exclusively about your ability to read and be familiar with the nuances of 19th century English Literature as a specific body.

The study structure was 20 minutes to read aloud seven paragraphs. So, while one was allowed a quick Google or a peek at the dictionary, there isn't really time to do any sort of deep dive - this is a test of whether you are already familiar with this sort of work.

---

Oh, but it wasn't just 20 minutes to read it out loud: every few sentences, the facilitator would poke the subject to explain the last few sentences. Not summarize, no: they wanted a full dissection. "Dickens is setting the atmosphere by describing the fog" was considered a failure of comprehension. The only explanation they provide that counts as a "pass" is almost twice as long as the actual passage itself!

It's not even really clear if they made it clear to the subjects that they were looking for this sort of verbose summary - the facilitator just replies "O.K." regardless of how detailed their response is.

I cannot imagine I would do terribly better, given 20 minutes to read aloud 7 paragraphs, and being constantly prodded to regurgitate the material at random intervals!

---

I really do NOT consider it worth reading, but here's a link to the original post for posterity's sake: https://www.tumblr.com/prettyboysdontlookatexplosions/783379386552516608?source=share

[jjwolves]

VACATIONS ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵

A biiiiiiig thank you for @master-eclectic for commissioning this piece ^_^ I hope it lives up to expectations!!

What: 5 Headcanons of Mermaid ENA the Worker X Reader

Who: ENA the Worker from ENA Dream BBQ (by Joel G)

How Much: ~1000 words, ~5 mins

Credits: Image Banner -> Joel G, Divider -> @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Warnings: None

You’ve known ENA for a while—ever since you cast a hook into the Blood Lake and reeled in an odd-talking businessperson instead of the coffin of your employer. You’d never met anyone quite like the mermaid you discovered that day—red, white, double-minded. One moment she’s trying to sell you various pieces of treasure from the bottom of the lake, the next she’s yelling about how annoying the motor in your boat is. “Well, if it isn’t one of my repeat customers! In the mood to make a deal?” You’re the only one who usually comes to this lake, but you don’t mention it. You don’t want her to get mad—more mad than usual, that is—since she’s one of the few companionable entities that you know. She swims to the other side of the boat. “Could you at least keep it down?! Some of us are doing important work in this lake!”

She interrupts your fishing frequently. There is never a day that goes by on the lake where ENA doesn’t emerge to disturb your silence in the only way that you’d ever find yourself enjoying. Sometimes she idles near the front of the boat, sometimes she asks for a hand and you help haul her in. This continues for a while, but one day ENA is acting a little different than usual. “Say, why do you invest so much into this boat? Why don’t you sell your stocks and plunge into the icy lagoon? Wait, I didn’t pitch that very well. Why don’t you come swim with me? That’s better.” Normally you’d be hesitant to leave the safety of your boat, but if ENA was going to eat you she probably would’ve done it already. Before you have the chance to change your mind, you crawl over the side of your boat and start swimming in the lake next to ENA. The chill of the water runs through you. ENA’s color is a little chillier, too. “It’s a good thing you know how to swim. I’m nobody’s life raft!”

One day, you’re reeling in a fish and it’s a lot stronger than you anticipated. The thing must be huge! The struggle is short-lived and the fishing rod is yanked out of your hands, sinking into the lake. Dang it. A few moments later, a ripple in the water is broken by a bi-colored face belonging to someone you’ve found yourself enjoying the company of quite a bit. She gracefully pivots to the side of the boat and leans a red arm on the rim, her lowered hat making her look a little more conniving than usual. “You look despondent, chum. Tell me, what’s stricken a nerve?” Still gazing at the water where your tool was stolen, you explain that you lost a fight with an exemplary aquatic warrior. ENA pretends to ponder for a moment. “Hmm. I see… Well, how about a deal—a real one? I can offer my services in order to retrieve your fishing device.” You trust ENA, but you ask about what her price is anyway. “To be determined and then paid in full. Here I go!” ENA went under and the lake went silent for a few minutes. The calm was short-lived as the polygonal hybrid returned with your fishing rod—in perfect condition, as well. You thanked her. You didn’t notice that she never brought up payment.

As the days go by, ENA begins construction on a strange new routine where she does little favors for you in exchange for no payment. “Here you are. A magical whirlpool is sure to put all of your business targets in one place. We’ll put it on your tab.” “An air net would be most categorically helpful, I imagine. It’s on the house.” “What ever caused your boat to shake so much? You’re lucky my services were quickly delivered or you’d be sleeping with the fishies.” You always thank her. She always says, “How will you ever pay me back, I wonder?” At first you thought of it as a harmless tease, ENA letting out some of her capricious energy—but now the words are sobering to you. How could you pay her back? You had come to care for her a great deal, but people who cared for each other had give and take, right? It was a two-way street. Were you capsizing in an ocean you didn’t even know you were sailing yet?

One night (or sixth season, it was hard to tell here), you sat on the edge of the boat with your feet dangling off of the side, brushing the surface of the water. Stars and dreams followed the subtle wakes formed by your boot, all dispersed into formless noise as a white claw emerged and gently squeezed your foot. Your strange friend lifted her head out of the water and hovered near your leg, quiet as if she could sense your hesitation. “Do you ponder your payment plan often?” You did, but how could you convey it? You spoke, explaining that the days that you had known her were some of the higher quality ones spent in this world. In all honesty, you continued, ENA did so much for you even outside of the little favors she had meticulously performed—simply spending her existence with you was nurturing. So, you said—perhaps jokingly, perhaps despairingly, that only ENA could decide how much you owe her. You looked back at her, taking in a shocked expression before it cooled into something more contemplative. ENA pulled herself onboard and sat with you before she spoke her piece. “You really shouldn’t leave your debt up to my imagination. But if you’re offering, I’d say that we can start your repayment… with a kiss. Perhaps? If that’s a good deal to you?” You didn’t listen to any more backpedaling. Two hands rested on either side of ENA’s face, gills creating an odd sensation, as you delivered an eager kiss. You knew it didn’t really repay anything, but it was a start. Maybe you could build some credit. As you two parted, ENA grew pale like the froth of the lake’s waves and growled, “No no no! Don’t stop, moron!” as she returned the kiss with the force of a tidal wave.

[baji-sideblog]

You slept with your coworker

ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎

Waking up with a headache from drinking a little too much last night. You sit up with a jolt seeing Winston walk in carrying a plate of food, water, and medicine. Then it hits you…you slept with your coworker! You slept with him! Quickly you look at your body seeing it littered in bite marks and marks from his centipede legs holding you a little too tightly last night. The biggest bite marks you can see are right on your thighs.

“Before you freak out, drink some water and take the headache medicine.”

He tries his best to sit on your bed, but it was too small for his length for him to sit properly. Winston hands you the water and medicine watching you take it. He curls up around you, rubbing your shoulders. Looking over your shoulders at him, you can see you left your own marks on him. Small bite marks, bruises, and lots and lots of scratches.

“We really slept with each other. It’s not going to get in the way of our job right?”

“Of course not. I know tons of professors who are together. I understand the anxiety though, but trust me you’ll be fine.”

He nuzzles his head against the back of your neck. You can feel his antenna grazing over you, as he pulls you closer to him.

“I do expect us to become a couple, I’m an old man after all. I know what I want and I want you.”

“I uh this is all happening too fast. I need time to adjust to all of this.”

“…Of course here eat up.”

He hands you the breakfast tray, it was your favorite. How’d he know? He pulls away and gets off the bed stretching himself out the best he can. His whole body can’t even fit in your room, half of it was outside your door. You can tell Winston is sore from sleeping uncomfortably in your bed with you. And also from not being able to stretch out properly due to the small apartment, well small for him.

“Are you ok Winston?”

“Eh, I’m fine enough for now. No need to worry too much.”

“Why did you stay the night? You knew that you’d be uncomfortable.”

He lets out a hardy chuckle, like you just asked him the silliest of questions.

“Simple, I wanted to make sure you’re ok. That you’re taken care of, especially after last night. I just didn’t want to leave you.”

You blush a little bit and nod. Turning to eat your food, you can’t help but have a feeling of deja vu after eating a few bites. It’s like reliving a dream you had but could never remember.

“By the way are you able to walk?”

You look up at him confused, before setting your food on the bedside table. You try to stand up, but your legs feel sore the minute you put a little pressure on them. It’s like walking on jelly, impossible. Winston helps you back into the bed.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you till you feel better, I promise.”

“Thanks sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Don’t be, I’m happy to be with you. Plus who would complain about spending more time with the most beautiful person in the world. I’ll be back real quick, I’m just going to grab something to help with your soreness.”

He walks out of the room and once you can’t see him, Winston licks his teeth free from his venom. More time how hilarious, you two are soulmates, you were married before. He’ll just have to get you used to his presence again and soon enough you’ll be together like how things aren’t meant to be. Using his venom to make you depend on him is just something he must do for the both of you.

ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎⋆˚✿˖°ᯓ❤︎

[synthetickitsune]

Lullaby Of The Abyss ✧ w.jh & x.mh

Pairing: merman(?) Wen Junhui x reader x merman(?) Xu Minghao Genre: angst, fluff Summary: It’s dangerous to meet strangers, more dangerous yet when they’re not human and you’re in their territory. And even once they become friends, are you sure you know what they really are at all? Word count: 5.4k A/N: this was actually supposed to be finished and posted last year bcs it only came to be thanks to the spell mv lmao -> mermay masterlist

You can already tell that the memories of this day will feel like a dream. Wrapped in a haze, your mind is swimming under the summer sun. The water is cool, perfect to balance the heat and the sun rays that make the ocean sparkle, each drop looking like a diamond in the air. You swing your legs lazily, lying back on your floatie. The slow rocking of it to the rhythm of the waves soothes you. It makes everything feel far far away. You forget about the world, time, everyone.

For now it’s just you and the sea. There’s a pleasant melody surrounding you, like a song of the ocean itself. So pleasant you forget to pay attention to where you are.

You’re not afraid, your company - although you’re not sure where they are - wouldn’t allow harm to come to you. You’re sure of it. So you keep lying down with a hat covering your eyes, smile on your lips, and their voices in your ears. You could very easily fall asleep, but you’ve done so before and you’ve been woken up by being thrown into the water. Not exactly what you’d like to experience again.

Slowly, smoothly, the hat is pulled away from your face and the sun glares right at your closed eyelids. You whimper, shielding your eyes with a hand as you sit up and glare vaguely in the direction where your hat was pulled.

“Looking for something?” comes a voice from the opposite direction and your hat lands at your feet. You turn, eyes slowly getting used to the light. Your first thought is, as always, that he looks ethereal. Your second thought is - where the fuck are you?

“The land,” you groan, turning back, then forward again, left, then right… it’s all water. All around. Nothing but the glittering blue of the ocean. You can only hear the sound of waves, the song has ended.

“Well, good luck with that,” comes a second voice, coated in a playful giggle. Traitor.

“I wouldn’t expect you to say that,” you fake a pout, eyes meeting Minghao’s own that sparkle with - what exactly? You’d say excitement, you’d hope so, but you’re not sure. He’s more guarded with his emotions than his friend. Maybe it’s just the sunlight that make him seem so happy.

You hope he’s excited though. You’ve begged both of them to take you away from the land sometime. Far away. Somewhere exactly like this - nobody to be seen, no shrieks and whistles to be heard. Just the infinite expanse of water. All the blue must be reflecting in your eyes. It feels like freedom here.

“Who do you think came up with this idea, hm?” Jun grins at you. He swims closer, resting his head on his arms crossed on the side of your floatie. Minghao joins by his side tilting his head as if questioning you too.

“You, Jun, who else,” you sigh and smile, drawing your legs towards your body. The man in question stops you, wrapping his hand around your knee and pulling your legs into the water between them. 

“Bingo, so come join us,” he’s beaming, easily excited as always. His hand feels nice and cool against your skin.

You hesitate slightly, looking around again and seeing the blue spreading in all directions - blue skies, blue ocean, blue flashes on the scales on their bodies. You’ve never been so far away from the shore, as much as you wished for this chance.

“Scared?” Minghao teases, pulling on your leg lightly. Their fingers are never pruned, and you can’t help but feel jealous. There’s something off about the way he looks at you but you write it off as him taunting you.

You pout. Well, he’s right. You like the sea, love it, but you’re not stupid enough to consider it safe, no matter how well you think you know it. Anything could happen. You could get a cramp and drown. Then again it’s not like that couldn’t happen right by the beach as well.

There’s the question of the two of them too. Yet you just shake your head slightly. They’re humans - well, for the most part. They’re not wild, unpredictable animals anyway.

“Come on, we’ll leave you here if we get bored,” Jun teases, earning himself a glare from Minghao, who’s quick to shoot you a reassuring look. “Sorry… But for real, the water’s nice and cool. Aren’t you hot?”

He moves closer and prods your arm with his fingers before jolting back as if burned. You laugh at his silliness. It is true you’re getting uncomfortably hot though. “Promise you won’t abandon me?”

“Promise,” they say in unison. Minghao offers you his hand as he helps you slip into the water with little more grace. Jun is immediately pushing your float away so it’s not in the way.

“No, it’s gonna get lost,” you protest, but your voice dies down. You shiver once you’re enveloped by the cool water, even though the relief is more than welcome. And you don’t get to linger on the shock of it for too long.

Once Jun gets his hands on you, he’s pulling you away from Minghao and lifts you up. You yelp, wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his shoulders. The contrast between the textured scales of his tail and the smoothness of his skin makes you want to run your hands over him, but you keep it to yourself. It’d be weird and it feels wrong.

“Don’t worry, if it does I’ll carry you back,” he spins around with you. His touch is careful, his voice and smile much softer now that you’re actually close. It’s cute how shy he gets when you’re in the water with them.

“Don’t look down or you’ll freak out,” Minghao swims around so you can see him - and roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. Still you narrow your eyes at him as he swims closer.

“Oh? Should I take you down there then?” Jun pipes up, and you feel yourself getting slowly submerged.

“No, no, Jun-” you cling to him like a cat on the highest branch. You feel the scales imprint themselves into the skin of your thighs. Their joined laugh is mocking you but you don’t care. You just got acclimated to the cool water here where the sun can reach and warm you up. You don’t exactly wish to move from here yet. And you want to have control over how deep you go.

They wouldn’t hurt you, you’re sure of that, but it’s easy to forget that your body can’t handle as much as theirs do.

“Oh? Would you like to hear how deep it is here? We can tell you all about the creatures hiding down there,” Minghao speaks again, this time from behind you, his hands teasingly pushing on your shoulders. He stops when you shoot him a glare.

“You know we wouldn’t,” Jun chuckles as he caresses your back to soothe you, “But I thought you liked marine biology facts.”

“Not when the marine biology is so close,” you shiver, slowly loosening your hold on him.

“Everything’s going to stay away with us here,” the smile is so obvious in Minghao’s voice you can imagine it clearly in your head, “Didn’t we tell you we’d keep you safe?”

Jun lets you have some space and moves back so that you can see both of them clearly. You feel a little reassured, and a little foolish for doubting them. In the whole time you’ve known them they never hurt you or did anything to make you uncomfortable - while you’ve seen them get indirectly hurt by humans more times than you could count. You suppose if they wanted to get some revenge for that, they wouldn’t be taking their sweet time like this.

“So there’s nothing in the ocean that would attack you?” you ask, careful not to move too far away from them. Maybe you lied to yourself. Maybe you get a little freaked out by the empty depth beneath your feet. 

“Orcas, maybe. Dolphins try as well, but they usually get over it if we put up a fight. Sharks are easy to handle if you’re careful and know what you’re doing,” Minghao explains with a smirk, “Are you worried about us? Or yourself?”

Before you can choose an answer that hopefully wouldn’t betray your sudden unease, Jun chimes in. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’re here,” he winks at you before leaning back to stretch, “Let’s go for a swim?”

And he’s gone. Somewhere in the dark blue all around. You hesitate. Is this really a good idea? Minghao gives you a curious look, extending his hand to yours.

Swimming always comes with a risk, you decide. You take his hand.

It’s easier once you dive in. Your mind blanks out surrounded by the many deep blues. There’s freedom to it you don’t think you’d experience anywhere else. It’s like flying without the risk of falling. The ocean is as endless and open as the sky. It should be boring to swim here in the emptiness of it, but it’s not. It feels satisfying. Heaven just for you and the two mermen.

Jun races back from wherever he swam off to before zooming away again while Minghao stays by your side dutifully. As much as both of them like to joke around and tease you for your fragile and vulnerable build when it comes to swimming and diving, they keep an eye for you. They’ve always kept you safe.

When you asked if they ever encountered a drowning human, they refused to respond. It made something twist in your stomach.

You don’t think about it. You don’t know why the memory popped up in your head now. So you drown it out by diving deeper.

The pressure and noise in your ears is suddenly replaced by a melody. Jun’s voice. You haven’t even noticed he returned. You feel your body getting lighter. Relaxed. Worries are washed away. The merman comes close and you match his smile without thinking. There’s no space for thoughts. Just the song. You take his hands when he offers. You’re so happy to see him.

He doesn’t pull, simply swims with your hands in his towards the surface where you take a breath. More on instinct than by your will. You just want to keep smiling. The bright orange of your floatie seems blinding. The color of the sky is too intense. It’s you who pulls Jun back under the water but he soon takes charge again.

He keeps humming as he leads you away from your floatie. You don’t realize. You don’t think, don’t worry. All there is is here and now and the warm amber of his eyes and the turquoise scales decorating his body and tail. His voice is so soothing. You’d follow him anywhere.

It makes your skin tingle as if somebody was tickling you, gently, not to annoy you but to be playful. He makes you feel that way. You brush against his tail with your foot before ducking under his arm to swim behind his back. He turns towards you quickly without breaking the tune. He twirls around you and you do your best to do the same.

And just then - another voice joins in. From somewhere below, although it’s not like there’s any space left in your mind to perceive direction.

You slip away from Jun’s hold as he slowly grows silent and kick off towards Minghao’s voice. It’s alluring in its own way. Like a lullaby of the primordial ocean being carried across time. You could be very well swimming in the same water as back then. Some of it surely must still be present in these waters. His eyes look like patches of dark sky when he stares up at you, but you don’t fear him. It’s like he could guide you there, to the ocean’s history.

The building pressure inside your ears doesn’t concern you. The suffocating grip of atmospheres pressing on your body only feels like you’re being held. You kick your feet faster. 

Minghao swims up to meet you. 

His arms wrap around your torso for a moment. You don’t mind. You’re mesmerized by his eyes that hypnotize you, the blank black of them so dark it seems to swallow light. You don’t struggle. You just want to follow him. Stay near him. So when he lets go of you, you don’t move. Suspended in the endless ocean.

Bubbles rise from your mouth. The water is crushing you, yet all you can think of is the irritation that the air bubbles obscure your vision of him and that he’s not holding your hand as the ocean closes in on you. Until he does. 

The song continues while he guides you up for air. It’s all the same to you. He could be dragging you to the ocean floor. Just as long as he stays near. You barely notice Jun joining the ascent before he starts humming again.

After that, your mind blacks out.

It’d be easy to write off as a dream. Your body feels too heavy. And hot. The sun beats down on you like it’s trying to turn you into ashes. Yet drops of water cling to your back. There’s a tune stuck inside your head luring you back in. It couldn’t have really been a dream.

Without feeling fully awake you sit up and swing your legs back into the water. You feel dizzy. Your head is killing you. The shock of cold water makes you hiss and sends a sharp jolt through your body.

“Hey, easy there,” Jun pops out of the water, his hands gently laid on your knees. He makes sure you don’t push yourself into the water.

“Breathe,” Minghao instructs softly. You turn your head back to look at him. He’s resting his chin on his arms crossed on your plastic bed. “Calm down first. Lay down.”

“Thirsty?” the other one asks while already handing you the bottle of water you brought with you.

Without a thought, because - you discover - thinking hurts, you take it and obediently take a few long gulps.

“Good,” Jun smiles at you when you hand him the bottle back, “How do you feel?”

“Dreamy,” you answer and rub your eyes. You feel like the sun is trying to boil you alive - like a piece of meat defrosted too quickly. “It’s hot.”

“Drink some more,” Minghao suggests from behind and, noticing your discomfort at having to turn around, swims to the other side of your safe inflated island.

“Do you remember anything?” he then asks.

You frown, pursuing your lips. Remember anything? Why should you be remembering anything?

You went to the beach, sunbathed, swam for a while. Then you noticed the tell-tale signs of them trying to get your attention - random splashes of water beyond the buoys, brief flashes of shimmering scales above the water that could easily be written off as light playing tricks on you unless you knew. 

Then - what then? You went back to the water to meet them. The floatie is a necessity since you usually stay with them for a while and you simply aren’t that strong of a swimmer. You don’t think it’s possible for a human to be. You met them. They took you far away from where people could see, where you could all be free… And then?

A song, a melody, tugs at your mind. Familiar and tempting. 

It’s both Jun and Minghao preventing you from jumping into the water this time and you frown.

“It’s hot,” you repeat. You try to push yourself off but your skin sticks to the plastic and they hold you down. “Let me go.”

It’s uncomfortable. You’re sweaty and feel feverish from the sun. Did you fall asleep? You must have but why haven’t they woken you up then? You don’t seem sunburned at least, but you ignore the silver lining completely. 

“It’s not a good idea,” Jun warns more sternly. He glares at you when you don’t listen, then you finally stop. He’s never looked at you like that before. Minghao’s expression is equally as serious. It makes your mouth and throat run dry.

“So your body remembers,” the former looks at you with a certain unease in his eyes, “But you can’t.”

“What are you talking about?” you try to stay calm even as your heart races. Did something happen? Maybe some wave came out of nowhere and knocked you out? Some animal? You doubt that, they wouldn’t be so calm then. 

“Why are you so set on getting into the water?” Minghao asks, some of his concealed frustration trickling into his voice. 

“It’s hot,” you murmur through pursed lips. The song sounds more distant now, quieter. No pull to jump into the cool water. You stand your ground though, even if you’re slightly confused why you don’t feel so strongly about it now. 

The two observe you for a minute before finally relenting and giving you enough space for you to slip into the ocean. It doesn’t bring much relief. The water seems too cold and open now. Diving below the surface seems terrifying. It’d be like willingly allowing the abyss to take you. The frown on your face deepens. What happened here that your mind is keeping away from you?

“Better?” Jun asks, coming to your side. 

“Yeah, I guess,” the uncertainty is heavy in your voice. It’s so confusing. You wish you could just go back to land but you don’t know how to ask for that. You still want to hang out with the two of them, but the open water that you’ve always loved so much doesn’t feel the same. Maybe you’ve gotten a heatstroke?

You truly want to stay but every cell of your body screams that it’s a bad idea. You don’t understand. You craved being in water so much just seconds ago. Yet now your stomach keeps churning unpleasantly, the sun is too bright and hot, the water too cold and the waves too loud, and every little touch of their hands feels like getting kicked by a spark.

“Hey,” Minghao backs off slightly, pulling equally as distraught looking Jun with him, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow around the lump in your throat but you can’t make any of the words on your tongue come out.

“I-” you barely manage before a wave of anxiety so strong it feels like you’ll throw up passes through your body. It’s just a split second but it leaves you shaking.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” the black-tailed merman suggests while the other brings the floatie closer and carefully helps you hop up. “Lay down. We’ll take care of everything.”

So you do. Somehow you feel like crying. Like you were abandoned, even though they’re both right there, both checking on you every couple seconds. What the fuck happened? You want a blanket.

“It’s alright. We’ll be there soon,” Jun tries to reassure you but you can’t say it lifts your spirits. And he’s lying too. They’re moving so slowly. You guess it’s so that the waves don’t jostle you too much (and to stay aware of any other humans closeby). It doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves, though.

“What happened?” you find your voice, although weak as if it was too afraid to come out.

The two exchange a look you can’t decipher.

Eventually, Minghao licks his lips.

“We’ll talk about it later, but-” he shushes you before you can protest, “Remember when we talked about how mermaids and sirens aren’t the same species?”

You nod. There was a conversation like that had a long time ago. Another wave of nausea that makes you curl into a ball hits you. You feel a bad headache coming.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Jun hastily adds, like the thoughts are the culprit behind this suffering, “We’ll explain everything next time.”

You can only weakly nod again. You’re in no state to think anyway.

Nothing changes, to be fair. No matter how much you mull it over in the following days, you have no idea what Minghao’s cryptic hint could mean. And the more you try to remember what exactly happened during the - minutes, hours? - time you don’t remember, the more the memories seem to fade into obscurity. 

Admittedly, you’ve been avoiding the beach these past days. Partly because the sight of the ocean sends shivers down the spine, but more importantly because you’re scared you’ll see the invitation of the mermen and will have to ignore it. You truly don’t feel like getting anywhere near the open water any time soon. No matter how much you miss your friends.

But you need answers. The uncertainty and fog where memory should be is scary and the knowledge that there’s something missing gnaws at you every second of the day. 

Hence how you find yourself standing on the rocks away from the beach, in a secluded spot that rebellious kids frequent to jump from into the water during the day. It’s not high at all, barely above the water which might be why parents don’t seem to care too much, yet even so you feel uncomfortable. Your knees get so weak that you need to sit down. 

You’re a good swimmer, there’s no need to be scared. You’ve never been scared, so you don’t understand why you are now. You hoped that being face to face with the ocean again would help, it’s familiar, after all, and maybe the rational part of your brain could take over. Only it doesn’t. If anything, the mysterious fear spreads and festers. Your hands shake. 

Groaning in frustration you pull your knees closer to your chest and hide your face in them.

What the hell happened back then?

As if on cue, you hear the tell-tale splashing of water. You bite your lip and hesitate. Somehow you don’t feel like seeing them, even though you miss them. Your head is just a big mess of conflicting emotions. It’s hard to do anything in such a state.

You feel guilty. Guilty for your confused emotions, guilty for ghosting them like that. Guilty for what happened, whatever it was, too. It must’ve been your fault, somehow. Or they’d apologize straight away.

Minghao calls your name and for a second you feel like running. Goosebumps erupt all over your body. And in the next second it’s gone. As suddenly as it appeared the sensation has gone.

You exhale slowly and finally raise your head.

They look worse than the last time you saw them. The moonlight doesn’t reflect enough light for you to see them properly, you might be reading too much into the shadows on their faces. Your gut tells you it’s more than poor lighting. They do look horrible. 

Minghao looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days and Jun looks like he’s seconds away from a nervous breakdown.

You feel another pang of guilt.

“How-” Jun trips over his words, “How have you been?”

“Not good, not terrible,” you try to joke but your voice comes out flat. You clear your throat and try again. “I missed you guys.”

It’s true. It really is. Despite everything. You missed swimming too. The kind of longing you’d have for something you can no longer have. It feels too dramatic. Nothing is holding you back. Just yourself. 

“Same,” he gives you an uncertain smile.

“I think we should talk,” Minghao wets his lips and looks at you in a way you don’t recognize. It feels like a goodbye.

You nod. You don’t trust your voice to come out.

Even agreeing on this, though, none of you speaks up. The waves crash against the rocks, the seagulls shriek somewhere in the distance, but nobody says a word. Jun looks worse than a couple minutes ago, somewhere between seconds away from fleeing into the endless ocean and as if he’s about to confess all his life’s misdeeds to you. Minghao looks, well, calmer, you suppose. 

“So, about the…” you decide to take charge - only you quickly realize you still have no idea what to actually talk about. Jun’s face goes through different expressions like he’s experienced the five stages of grief within seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out eventually. His face settles on pretty much the same point it began - lip trembling, brows drawn together and twitching like he can’t believe what’s going on. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Before you can get upset or ask what he means by that, Minghao steps in.

“Have you remembered anything from that day?” he asks, tone much gentler and put together than the other merman.

“I… I should’ve been more careful,” you say, following the feeling in your gut. Then you shake your head. Despite your best efforts, the afternoon remains shrouded in darkness. “I have no idea. I just got really scared of the ocean after that.” 

It’s not much. If possible, they both look even guiltier at your confession. It seems like they’ll stay quiet again but then Minghao composes himself again.

“Remember what I told you before? About, um, mermaids and sirens?” he asks, almost as if speaking the words themselves was dangerous. You nod. The memory is a little hazy but you recall it. Actually you haven’t really thought about it as deeply as you probably should’ve, but it’s like you subconsciously know where he’s going with this. You swallow.

“I think there was some misunderstanding around what we really are,” he simply says, looking up at you with eyes that don’t look at all like the eyes of a predator, of a killer. Jun whines, finally letting go of his unease as he turns away from you for a moment and smashes his face into the water, staying like that for a few seconds. When he finally straightens back, he takes a couple deep breaths. You don’t think it helped much. He looks tense. Minghao just looks anxious and defeated.

You can’t find your voice, so you just nod again. You want to ask. Hearing it straight might help grounding you. For now you still feel like you’re floating between a fantasy and reality.

“So the song I heard, that was you?” you frown, cold shiver running down your spine. The ocean seems darker. As if the water should pull you in and drag you to the bottom.

“You remember?” they both speak at the same time.

“I just remember that there was one,” you shake your head, “And, I don’t know, I remember feeling something, but now it just makes me afraid to think about it or try to remember.”

“Don’t try,” Minghao advises immediately.

“Yeah, just… don’t,” Jun mutters.

You give it a second. Just enough time to fill your lungs with air.

“What happened that day?” you finally ask.

“We- We never meant to hurt you,” Jun speaks up, his words are rushed, “We promise we won’t. Never.”

It feels like a dream. Pretty much the same as when you met them the first time. Like everything’s behind a thin veil of unreality or like you suddenly clipped into a different world. Only back then it was daytime and the sun was warming you up and felt reassuring, now there’s only cold and the sensation of losing feeling in your fingertips. The moon provides no comfort.  

You don’t know what to say to that, how to react. So you stay silent. The ocean never sleeps. It talks. Sings. Moonlight makes the waves shimmer like fish scales. 

“We wanted to scare you a little,” Jun admits. He looks at Minghao for support. 

“We just wanted to make sure you understand that you should be cautious around us,” his friend takes over, “We really enjoy our friendship, but you really need to be careful.”

“You could’ve just-” you don’t finish the sentence. They tried to warn you. Especially Jun, in his own way. He never sat you down and had a heart-to-heart with you about the dangers of befriending random humanoid sea creatures, sure, but he did his best. And they both told you many times that you’re stupid for begging them to take you into the open ocean. 

“We’ve noticed more of us coming closer to the beaches too,” Minghao continues, “We were worried you’d do something stupid.”

You’d like to reassure them and tell them there’s no way, but you really can’t. You wouldn’t exactly be as friendly and carefree with strange mermen, at the same time, though, does it matter? The water is their territory. You could fight but if their intentions were bad, then that’s it for you.

“Or that they’d try something regardless, you wouldn’t even need to do anything,” Jun sighs, “They’d notice you can tell they’re there. They’d be curious and approach you first.” 

The sound of waves remains the same. It doesn’t get louder, it doesn’t quieten down. The ocean keeps moving like it, too, is a living organism. 

“When you say ‘us’... What do you mean?” even though you finally ask, it doesn’t feel like much. You don’t feel anticipation, fear, excitement. Or curiosity even. Somehow it just feels like you’re finally talking with them. Really talking.

“One of us is a siren,” Minghao whispers, but you hear. His voice sounds too loud despite everything. “One of us is not.”

“You won’t tell me more?” you try not to sound betrayed. After all, it feels like you shouldn’t feel this way. You should have thought more about it from the beginning. Should’ve tried to learn more. Maybe if you asked before all this, they’d answer.

“It’s enough,” Jun tries to smile, but it only looks sad, “You wouldn’t be able to tell anyway, would you?”

“Would it change anything if I knew?” you mumble. 

“You’d trust one of us more,” Minghao smiles, a little fondly you’d say, “That wouldn’t be very wise. You should be careful anyway. Just because one won’t eat you, doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.”

“I thought we’re friends,” you say. It was supposed to be a joke, a little manipulation tactic. Instead you just think. How much does this change? This whole thing. You like them. You missed them. Even now, your feelings haven't changed. They didn’t hurt you, even though they could. Never. And the one time they put you in danger, well, Jun looks like he’d rather die than remember that it ever happened - much less do it again.

“We are,” Jun’s attempt of a smile just keeps getting sadder, “If you want it to stay that way.”

“We won’t sing for you again,” Minghao adds, “It… It was stupid. Really stupid. Sirens don’t only feed on humans, but humans are the only prey sensitive to their voices. We probably just missed that feeling.”

‘We’. As if they’re both guilty. Jun’s right. You aren’t able to tell the difference, you never were. For all you know, they might be lying. Maybe neither of them is a siren, maybe they both are. Either way, their point stands - the ocean is dangerous, and so are its inhabitants.

“If you’re really still up for it,” Jun licks his lips, “We missed you. There’s no pressure, but if you want to catch up, can we meet again tomorrow? Here? It seems like a good place to start again.”

“Sure, sounds nice,” you agree. Too fast, you think. Do you sound desperate? Is this a test? You bite your lip. You don’t want to lose them. After all, you missed them too. But what was this all for if you just slowly return to how things were? Well, not exactly the same. You’ll be smarter this time around. At least a little. Should you give it some more time to think it over, though? There are so many variables that you should consider, you suppose, yet at the same time…

“Humans are monsters too sometimes, yet they look the same,” Minghao splashes some water on you, making you look at him incredulously, “Don’t think too hard about it.”

You scoff. You don’t get down to the water to attack back. 

And maybe that’s the lesson they wanted to teach you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Indulgence 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Thor (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you take a new placement without knowing the full details.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The king pulls on a tunic as you sit in the corner of the litter. Voices without call for a halt for the day. Horses need water and riders need rest.

Awkwardly, the burly man slips his legs down his breeches and yanks them to his thighs, then moves to his knees to get them up. He ties the strings and groans as he rolls his shoulders. He lets his tunic hang loose across his soft stomach, leaving his belt amid the blankets.

"You must be aghast," he chuckles as the litter draw to a halt and he laces his boots. "To see that a king is only a man."

You stay as you are. Much of the day was spent in the rhythm of hooves, his snores, then a few jokes tossed at the expense of himself or his men. He has remained mostly in retreat.

"Oi," he tugs back the curtain as two men argue about watch duty. "You, my horse."

"Your highness, he is ahead. Fandral sees to her."

"She will be dressed for riding tomorrow." The king heaves his large body from the wooden cart bed. "And my companion will take the litter. Be sure both are treated kindly."

"Yes, your highness," the unseen man acquiesces.

King Thor extends his arm and wiggles his hand, "come, kitten, my legs cramp."

You crawl over the tangled blankets and take his hand. He helps you down and you stumble down as your skirts catch between your legs. He steadies you easily, anchored by his size.

You look around. You don't miss the errant gazes in your direction. You let him go and a shadow appears from your other side.

"You can sleep with the other servants," the soldier who dragged you from the tower frightens you. "Come."

"Eh," the king turns and eyes the other man. "And who said so that would override their king's wishes?"

"Your highness, I only thought--"

"Do not think. Follow orders." King Thor remands. "And do not issue them to my companion. She will remain with me unless I decide otherwise."

"Your highness."

"Oh, and do send a messenger to the queen. Let her know she is dearly missed." The king turns and beckons you onward. You eye the soldier then follow the larger man. The king sighs. "That man is a weasel employed by my queen but she does not think I am clever enough to see his split loyalties."

"Perhaps she worries..."

"She doesn't. She is overbearing but she wouldn't have me anyhow. I don't see why she is so concerned where... well, I see now I've not helped myself much." He grunts and rubs his lower back as soldiers, lords, and servants pause to show their deference. "Hogun, my tent?" He signals to a thick man.

"It hasn't yet been posted. We've only stopped. What is it then? Tired from laying on your back?"

"Eh," the king shakes his head and laughs. "Exhausted, my friend. I suppose I would do well to stretch my legs."

"Likely you will," the man sends you a look as the king passes him by.

He leads you to the edge of the train. You're aware of the guards trailing after, keeping their duty to their king. He turns to you and plucks you up easily. You cry out as he places you on the open bed of a cart. He leans on it and stays close.

"I hate the road. It is rather dull. Tiring." He mutters. "I assume you've not travelled to Wakanda?"

"Not previous, no. The capital is the furthest... well, now this."

"Hm, was it? You were in the kitchens? Perhaps one of my wife's maids? She does have rather lovely ones," he chortles.

"No, your highness. I..." you measure your honesty. How much should you say? "I would mind children. Once in my village, then in a city. A merchant and his wife employed me for a time. They had many children."

"A nurse maid? Hum, I've not had one, I think," he mulls. His cheeks tinge and he shows his teeth sheepishly. "Not that I've now. Pardon, my lady, you are more than... a thing. I suppose I should mind that."

"Only a maid," you say. "Your highness."

"Yes, so the rent between us is wide," he crosses his arms.

"Brother," a voice slices through the air. "I'm gladdened, if not shocked, to see you away from your bed."

"Loki," the king juts out his chin. "What've you come to chide me for now?"

"Chide? I merely remind you of your obligations."

"Oh, you would know well of a king's obligations," King Thor derides. "Be out with it. Tell me what has you slithering at me with your forked tongue."

"I only meant to review the maps. We discussed rerouting away from the forests given the tidings of bears."

"Bears are nothing," the king says flippantly.

"Perhaps not when you share habits with them," the king's brother snips. "The forest darkens quicker and it more treacherous. We should disembark at the crescent."

"Be it how you like it. You always do twist the dagger until I bleed," King Thor flicks his fingers at his brother.

"When I must. Often it is the only thing which draws your focus more than a skirt," the prince replies.

He receives a growl and a shove against his chest in return. He wavers but does not stagger. His eyes narrow, "my king." He turns and struts away.

"My brother is as needling as my wife," he turns to face you, the wagon shifting with the relief of his weight upon it. "He makes this road even longer."

"Mm, well, he means well, it seems. To be sure we all arrive unscathed, your highness."

"Perhaps," he mutters and looks around. He huffs. "You, nurse maid, you must tell your charges many tales. Why don't you weave one and keep me from going mad in this field."

You smile. "Well, those tales are meant for children."

"I don't mind. Simpler things," he sets his feet and watches you.

"Hm, but you've likely heard them all, your highness."

"I do not ask for novelty," he says. "I ask to hear your sweet voice, lady."

You look down and wring your hands. "Yes, your highness. Then I will tell an easy one. About a princess and her loyal cat..."

[requiem-for-a-raisin]

The Past Records: William & Victor - Part 4

*Fan translation for funsies! IP owned by Cybird, translations are my own and may be inaccurate. See About page for more info.*

WARNING: Contains major spoilers for Victor’s route.

:readmore:

Today marks the fifth anniversary of Crown's founding, and as promised, we uncorked the wine from that day.

Victor

"Um, Will? Count William Rex?"

William

"Yeah, I can hear you. 'Bring me some water'...? Bring it?"

Victor

"Well, that's the wall, isn't it? And I don't know if you're aware of it, but you just commanded the wall."

As we finished our wine and reminisced,

I noticed something strange about William.

His expression is normal, but his cheeks are red, and he orders someone to bring water in a direction where no one is around.

William

"You've made another secret passage in Crown Castle, haven't you?"

William

"There must be countless passages beneath that lake, like an ant's nest."

Victor

"Yeah, well, aside from what you know about that, I'm over here. That’s a shelf."

He leans back on the sofa, and surprisingly, he doesn't seem to have a high tolerance for alcohol...

(I've got a good idea)

I'm starting to find this interesting, so I open my mouth.

Victor

"Will loves me!"

William

"Yeah, that's true."

Victor

"Will hates that old man with glasses from the Privy Council!"

William

"Yeah, I think that'd be great."

Victor

"Let's hold hands and go on a date!"

William

"Ahh...”

Victor

"Tssssss!!"

William

"You're writhing around in agony, what's wrong?"

Victor

"No, nothing... hehe, hahaha..."

(I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe...!)

I can't help but find him hilarious, staring at me with a calm face.

Maybe because I see him normally acting all serious, I find him adorable.

I take a deep breath to calm my laughter, then hand him a glass of water.

Victor

"Here's the water, be careful not to spill it."

William

"Thank you."

William drank it down swiftly, lowered his eyes, and smiled.

William

"Five years has flown by in the blink of an eye."

Victor

"Yeah, a lot has happened, but before I knew it, five years had passed."

Since that day five years ago, we have condemned all the evil that is rampant in this country.

Just the two of us, every time.

William

"Now that I think of it, you said that you found some men who may have been cursed."

Victor

“I’m going to contact them sometime. Maybe they will join the crown."

If there are three or four more people in the crown from just two, by the time we reach the 10-year milestone, this castle may be bustling with activity.

Victor

“But two crowns are fun too. We are more like partners than an organization! I guess that's what it's like."

William

“Indeed."

William giggles, puts down his glass and crosses his fingers.

William

“I'm really glad you're here.”

Victor

“Huh?"

William

“Five years ago, after I killed my father, I decided to destroy the Golden Butterfly by myself."

William

“But there was only so much I could have done at 14."

Victor

“Not at all, I'm sure you could have done well."

William

“I could have done it to a certain extent."

William

“But I don't know if I was able to give people freedom and be self-righteous enough."

His strong-willed eyes, unchanged since the first time I saw him, caught my eye.

William

"I'm so glad it was you who reached out to me that day."

Victor

“...I feel the same way."

He puts down his wineglass and looks back at me.

Victor

"Because you were there, my unrealistic vision became reality."

Victor

"Do you know how much I was saved that day when you took my hand?"

We look at each other and smile.

But he had a lonely look on his face.

William

"Even though I've received so much, I still haven't been able to set you free."

William

"That's something that's been bothering me... ever since."

(...You're a kind person.)

Even if that was just his own self-righteousness, I feel that I have been saved.

Victor

"You were the only one who said that you wanted to set me free, Will."

Victor

"You're the only person in my life who wished for my freedom."

Victor

"That alone is more than enough to save me."

When my life ends, if there's anyone I remember until the end, it'll be him who wished for my freedom, and the girl who saved my heart.

William

"I don't want you to be satisfied with this, Vic."

William suddenly stands up and smiles.

William

"Evil hasn't disappeared yet. I'll continue to condemn it."

William

"Maybe there will be a moment when you will be freed in the process?"

And this time he holds out his hand to me.

William

"I'll continue to count on you, my partner in crime."

I smiled and took his hand.

William

"And my one and only irreplaceable friend."

A tragic end awaits us.

No matter how hard we struggle, it will not change, and it's the ending of a fairy tale that we don't know when it will come.

(But I hope our friendship will last a little longer.)

We shook hands, hoping that our friendship would continue until the day the fairy tale ended.

Two "crowns" shone above each of our heads.

[an-au-blog]

a few days ago i saw a post about sanji cheating on gin with zoro, but I'll be completely honest, I don't think HE would be the one cheating. And this isn't even talking from my being a sanji enjoyer, I just think that if he's not 1000% invested in a relationship with a man, it would never get past a situationship. Not because of some moral high ground, he just doesn't care enough about it all. On the other hand GIN's the type of guy who's both deeply insecure and overly cocky if someone gives him an ounce of attention. (And I'm sorry to say this but,) usually it's the ugly ones that always think they can get away with cheating. (As Billie Eilish said: give an ugly guy a chance and he thinks he owns the world.)

So here's my spin on this love triangle:

Sanji had been courted for a while by Gin. He never saw him more than the occasional fling. But Gin seemed so enamored with Sanji, he was promising him the moon, he would worship him like it would be his last day on earth, he would show an overwhelming love that Sanji never thought he deserved. It made him feel good. And surely enough, after a long pursuit, Sanji found himself catching feelings and agreed to be his boyfriend.

When that happened after that was that two strong emotions were stirred inside Gin as absolute truths. 1. He was on top of the world because, how could he not? He managed to bag the guy that not only hot girls like Viola and O-Some liked, but guys like Ace and Zoro had been eyeing. Which brought him to 2. Most of the people who had tried to flirt with Sanji were a worry, but the worst one yet was Zoro. See, Zoro was not only objective attractive and in love with Sanji, but also one of his inner circle of friends. And even worse: they were quite close.

So when he got so jealous to the point where he sought out comfort on the bottom of a bottle, he felt it was justified. More than that: when he found his way into someone else's bed, it was completely justified. Of course he loved Sanji so SO much but that was exactly why he cheated. He just knew for a fact that Sanji MUST HAVE cheated AT LEAST with Zoro, right? I mean, how could he not? Plus, it wasn't like the cheating incident would happen again, it was a one time slip up. Except that it wasn't a one time slip up. No. Gin never got caught and thought that was some kind of a sign that he must have underestimated himself before. He found himself more confident, and therefore more attractive to some people. The "some people" who ended up in bed with him over and over again.

But like everything finds its end, so did Gin's luck. It was a mess and ugly breakup. Gin denied, pleaded, and screamed in anger. Sanji refused to listen, tried to get out as fast as he could, and ended up kicking Gin's nose in when he started yelling at him.

"It's not like I'm the only cheater here! Yeah, I know you're probably fucking Roronoa on the side, I've seen the way he looks at you-" profanities followed, much too vulgar for me to write, knowing fully how utterly false they all were.

Sanji furrowed his brows. "I never cheated. But now that we're over, I might actually need a friendly shoulder."

Gin was a mox of pale fear and red with rage.

"How does it feel to know you pushed me into his arms?" He didn't wait for an answer before he left.

And when he left, he found himself just where Gin feared he would. He didn't have any actual intentions on going to Zoro but now that Gin said it... the marimo really WAS always there for him, wasn't he? And he was the most loyal and honest man Sanji knew. He was actually convinced that the man couldn't keep a secret or lie to save his life. Sanji needed something real for once.

Before Zoro could ask why angrily crying Sanji was at his door, Sanji asked "Are you in love with me?"

Zoro gaped like a fish out of water before averting his eyes with a sour expression. "Uh... I... damn it curls..."

It was all the answer Sanji needed before he flung himself onto the man. Adorning him with kisses and straddling him midair. Knocking into walls and furniture making their way into the bedroom.

Zoro there Sanji onto the bed, watching him getting undressed. "What... what about Gin."

"We're done."

Zoro found that pride of being a rebound was lacking in the face of being with the man he had been in love with for so long.

Sanji's phone buzzed and pinged with calls, messages and voicemail from the floor, but then again, neither of them heard anything past the noise they were already making.

At some point afterwards, Zoro picked it up and saw the manic messages. He couldn't help but gloat. He sent a picture and captioned it "don't be a sour loser" before blocking him. (Sanji found out but couldn't find it in him to be upset in the slightest.)

[oofmybad]

The morning after

synopsis: Billie picks you up from hospital. ⚠️ HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ please do not read this if you know you can’t do it rn. look after yourself!!!

warnings: heavy angst, discussions of suicide attempt, bestfriend!billiexfem!reader, mentions of weight loss, mentions of vomit and blood (none actually), no fluffy resolution, if i missed anything PLEASE tell me.

a/n: this story goes against like every single one of my writing boundaries lol. but it just happened to me so it’s all that’s on my mind. i originally didn’t write this for tumblr, just for myself. but i haven’t been here on ages so this is what you get for now. again, please do not read this if you are feeling even a little bit sensitive!!! i’ll be back with something happier soon.

billie

reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry you felt so bad.

It’s ok. Not your fault.

Silence.

Thanks for picking me up.

No problem.

 

The car ride is delicate except for the wind blowing through our hair and the hum of the engine. Windows down. It’s a sunny day. A backpack and yesterday’s soiled clothes curled on my lap in the passenger seat. I gaze out the window, feeling the sun seep into my sunken skin. An arm draped over the window frame. Noticing now that I have two blisters in the pit of my elbow – where the cannula forced its way in. Unwelcome but necessary. Another fight I put up but lost.  

 

I can feel her peering over at me. Eyes asking me what she’s not brave enough to. I answer her in silence, offering a tight smile. Shrugging out as much positivity as I have in me. Trying not to let the disappointment that I’m still here show on my face. She sees through it though. I can tell.

 

We pull up to the front of my apartment. Scaffolding from the roof down obstructing our view. I look up at the door, dreading what leftovers I am about to find. Vomit, maybe. Hopefully no blood. The handbrake wrenches up, pulling me out of my thoughts.

 

You’ll come over after you shower, won’t you?

Sure.

I have sunshine and food. You must be hungry.

 

I know what she’s referring to. My skin is green, and my breath smells acidic. I’m smaller than when we last met. She’s kind not to comment.  

Sounds good. I’ll be over in an hour.

Great.

 

I crawl out of the car, holding onto the frame. Still a little dizzy. The door slams shut harder than I intended. I turn my head, offering a warm smile, warmer than the last. A wave, too.

 

Thanks, again, for the ride.

 

Just a smile from her.

 

I climb the stairs to my second floor apartment, pushing the fire door open. It takes more might than it normally does. I feel frail today. Dropping my bag down, stuffing my laundry into the hamper. Rid myself of the dirt from the road. The water trickles through my scalp. Hot. soaking in its wake. My head dips back, consuming my whole head. Face submerged. I wonder how it would feel to go like this. The fight between me and water. Who would win? Water, probably. Best not to chance it.

 

I pull up the shorts folded in half on my bed. The cotton sticking to my freshly moisturised legs. Sitting on my hips, baggier than the last time I wore them. Makes me think of that one lyric in Streets of Philadelphia. I continue. Slithering into a tube top. The elastic bunching around my shoulder blades. Deodorant leaving white streaks. I pull it flush to my body, scraping off the marks as I go.

 

Facing the mirror, disappointed to be standing here once again. Wishing there was no reflection to look at. Suppose I should comb my hair now.

 

I’m still not sure what one does the day after. It’s not my first. But I still haven’t mastered it yet.

 

I rake through my now clean hair, the bristles squeaking as they pass through. I feel my hairline tugging back with each stroke. Sweat forming on my forehead from the effort that my unwieldy hair elicits. Reaching for the hair oil, I pump. Once, twice, three times. Enough to cover the lengths.

 

I stretch my strands straight as I weave my fingers through them – lacking the desire to care for curly hair right now. I mould them into something I can cope with. Straighter, easier to deal with. I’ve found that other people feel the same way about my hair. Liking me more the straighter I pull it. I make eye contact with myself, wondering if I’ll ever have the courage to stop relaxing my hair. Letting it exist outside of tight restraints. Facing the mirror, time to think.

 

I’m not sure I can keep doing this. Keep starting again, that is.

 

Before any more big thoughts emerge, I trudge down the road. Feeling fresher than I did an hour ago. But my mind cannot be renewed with such ease. I let myself in with my key. she’s always been so open with me. Intimate and giving. shark greets me, blissfully unaware of the last forty-eight hours.

 

Hi.

Hi!

 

I put my bag down on the couch.

 

Would you like something to eat?

Maybe in a moment. Thanks.

There’s some pasta and homemade pesto; You-friendly.

Thanks.

 

I head to the kitchen. I guess I should eat. She seems to think I need to. I smile at the thought of her making pesto without the nuts or parmesan. Knowing it’s not as nice but she did it anyway. I click the hob on, waiting for the coated pasta to reheat in the pan. Standing in front of the hob. Purposeless. Waiting. I take the food off the heat too early. Deciding that it’s too warm out to eat properly hot food, anyway. I make my way back through to the garden.

 

On the back patio, there’s evidence of what she was doing before she came to collect me. Before she got the call.

 

You’ve got a whole salon going on here.

 

I try and strike up casual conversation. Overwhelmed by the silence. Unsure if I should bring it up. Probably not.

 

Its good isn’t it. I’m doing my toes a green – shocker! –

but I did my fingers this light purple. Lilac, really. Look.

 

She presents me her nails, fanning them towards my face.

Nice. I love it.

 

We sit in silence again, retreating to our usual spots in the garden. Me in direct sunlight, her hidden in the shade of the bushes. Each dog perched at each of our ankles. I eat in silence. Far too conscious of my fork scraping the bowl – I know no one cares as much as I do. Yet, I leave the sauce untouched at the bottom of the bowl in an effort to be as quiet as possible. I get up, once again, taking my dishes inside and washing them up in the sink.

 

Walking back into the front room, I pull out a script from my bag. I’m behind already because of the last few days. No more time to lose. I’m no actor or anything. Not yet, at least. It’s fun to dream about what could be. Who I could be. I highlight what’s poignant to me. What sticks out. Nothing yet, really. I’m just highlighting for show.

 

Why’d you do it?

 

I pause. Contemplating which answer to give her. The real one, or the one that rings less alarm bells.

 

I don’t know, really. I just lose control sometimes.

Over your emotions?

Mhm.

You know I love you, don’t you?

Yeah.

We all love you. Finch, Claud, mom and dad. The dogs.

 

Silence.

 

We’d miss you too much.

…I’d miss you, too.

No, you wouldn’t.

I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say.

I don’t want you to say something, I want you to stop feeling so sad.

Sorry.

Stop apologising.

Sorry.

She laughs at that.

 

You’re a menace.

You love me, though.

I do.

[wetdeadroses]

Hearts Healed

“This’ll only get worse if you don’t let me do anything,” Law said with an exasperated sigh. “I told you, kid,” Corazon said as he placed a hand on Law’s shoulder, “I’m fine. I’ve always been like this.” His lips spread into a broad smile. “I don’t need a doctor.” Law decides to heal the injuries he found as the source of Cora's clumsiness. Corazon isn't sure how he feels about it.

wc: 2.3k

tags: corazon & trafalgar law, corazon is a heart pirate, mild hurt/comfort, chronic pain mentions, corazon's clumsiness is caused by injuries, corazon and law have just been through so much together

i wrote this piece as part of a trade for @the-red-butterfly and am so pleased to share it here as well! thank you so much for this amazing prompt. i'm so honored to have put this together for you!

read on AO3, if you prefer

Law’s concern for Corazon’s health started with something as small as a passing thought, but like a pebble tossed into a still body of water, that concern rippled and spread over time. He noticed how often Corazon would trip over the same foot, or how his wrist would ever-so-slightly buckle when he was ashing a cigarette. Corazon never complained, so Law let it be. That is, until he saw Corazon wince on his way back up from a fall one day. It was fleeting – a split-second of a furrowed brow and a twitch of his lips -- but Law saw it. 

Once Law knew Corazon was in pain, there was nothing he could do to stay quiet about it. When Corazon turned down a check-up, Law tried to inquire more about any major accidents he might have had before they met, but he was met with a brick wall, which only fueled Law’s temper.

Today was no different. Law and Corazon were on the deck of the Polar Tang when he stumbled, nearly launching himself over the railing and into the sea. Law intervened in time, but Corazon landed on the deck with a tumble anyway. 

Law supposed that as a doctor, he couldn’t help saying something each time it happened. He struggled to understand why Corazon wouldn’t utilize Law’s medical skills to evaluate the cause of his clumsiness. 

“This’ll only get worse if you don’t let me do anything,” Law said with an exasperated sigh.

“I told you, kid,” Corazon said as he placed a hand on Law’s shoulder, “I’m fine. I’ve always been like this.” His lips spread into a broad smile. “I don’t need a doctor.” 

Tired of having the same conversation after Corazon’s slips and falls, Law bit his tongue, but not before letting an annoyed tch slip out. There was no denying that Corazon was strong, but over the years, Law felt a breaking point was growing near.

Satisfied with Law’s agreement, Corazon turned away, lighting a cigarette. “Besides, I’m sharper than ever. I feel great!” 

“Cora-san!” Almost instantaneously, Corazon’s sleeve caught on fire. Law didn’t miss the precise movement that caused the incident, his eyes watchful of every twitch, every ounce of stiffness.

Once Corazon had been extinguished, Law straightened, adjusting his stature to look Corazon in the eyes. “Why do you brush me off every time I bring this up? Do you not trust me?”

Corazon softened as he held Law’s stare. “Of course I trust you, kid.” He took a drag of his cigarette, which was slightly rumpled in the commotion, and shifted his gaze from Law. “It’s just not worth your time to look into. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Law, you have to let this go.”

Law would not – could not – let it go. He didn’t know how to explain to Corazon why it was so important to him that he took care of himself. His fists tightened. Law wanted to argue, to grab Corazon by the shoulders and shake him until he understood, but he wouldn’t give in.

“After everything you have done for me, you must understand why I can’t do that.”

Corazon stiffened. The slightest hint of surprise played across his features, along with another expression which Law couldn’t place. 

“Please, Cora-san. Let me help,” Law pleaded. “At least let me get to a diagnosis.”

Corazon’s silence stretched over the Polar Tang toward the never-ending blue horizon. It wore so thin that Law wanted to gasp for air, but he held firm, allowing the space for Corazon to listen, to understand what Law was truly saying.

“A diagnosis,” Corazon finally drawled, tasting the idea between his lips, a tendril of smoke quivering in response. “Fine. But don’t waste too much of your time on this, kid. I don’t want you distracted from your dream.”

. . .

The sick bay was frigid and meticulously organized. Some referred to it as an extension of Law himself, although the captain believed that was a superficial statement, and that the bay was specifically designed for efficiency and safety. Cold as it was, Law felt a bead of sweat roll down his back as he explained the examinations he would perform on Corazon. 

“First, I’m going to test your range of motion, and follow with an X-ray,” Law explained to Corazon, who sat awkwardly on the exam table. “I’d also like a more thorough understanding of your medical history.”

“I don’t have one.”

“You’re telling me you have no idea what kind of medical conditions you’ve had in the past? Injuries? Anything?” Law took a step toward Corazon. Corazon shifted away from him.

“I couldn’t possibly begin to list my injuries,” Corazon said, pursing his lips. “I didn’t exactly keep track of them.” 

Law supposed that wasn’t entirely out of character for Corazon, considering his colorful past. “Fine.” He motioned to the open space of the sick bay. “Stand up.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, at least for this first part. I’ll have you practice a few movements on your own. If I see any signs of limitation or pain, we’ll do some assisted movements.”

Corazon’s face grew flushed as he bent and stretched as per Law’s instructions. When the exercises switched to his legs, Corazon was sweating with concentration. Before he could complete the first movement, he stumbled. 

Law used his shoulder to brace Corazon, guiding him back to his feet. “That’s enough standing for now.”

Corazon shrugged Law off of him the instant he regained his balance. “I’m fine.”

Law’s brow creased, a retort crawling up his throat, but something in Corazon’s expression stopped him in his tracks. He rarely avoided looking at Law when they spoke, but Corazon had been looking in any direction except his since they started. He seemed… guarded, in a way that Law hadn’t quite seen before. 

Law cleared his throat, softening, as Corazon returned to his seat on the exam bed. “You don’t have to be,” he murmured. “If you’re not.”

Some weight came off Corazon’s shoulders — ever so slightly, but he was lighter all the same — as he registered what Law was saying. “It’s that obvious, is it?” Corazon chuckled.

“That’s not what I meant,” Law argued. He wasn’t necessarily known for his bedside manner. But for Cora, he would try. “I was trying to say that if you’re nervous or if you’re in pain, then you can tell me. I’m not here to judge you.”

Corazon stared at Law, taken aback. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. Law’s words merely hung in the air, wrapping around Corazon in a considerate embrace.

“Just don’t hide it anymore, okay?” The words came out with more gentleness than Law planned.

Law’s surprise at his own voice must have been all over his face, because a hearty laugh poured out of Corazon, straight from his chest. He could only stand there, clenching his fists as Cora’s eyes watered with roaring howls of entertainment.

“Alright, doctor,” Corazon said as his laughter faded. “Let’s keep going.”

With minimal complaints, Corazon allowed Law to manipulate the joints in his legs, from hip to ankle. He couldn’t help but twitch a few times at the strange sensation.

“Do any of these movements hurt?” Law asked.

Corazon pondered the question as Law bent one of his knees. “It feels the same as it always does.”

Law stiffened. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes,” Cora sighed.

After gently releasing Corazon’s leg, Law turned away, considering. “Let’s move on to your X-ray.” 

After giving Corazon instructions and calling upon his devil fruit ability, Law performed the X-ray, studying the bones and joints throughout his body. He nearly bit his tongue as he took in the sight of it. It was a map of every damage Cora could ever have taken - and it was… a lot.

Law’s thoughts tripped one over the other. How could Cora have ended up like this? Nothing in his imagination would have aligned with Cora's countless injuries. 

His eyes fixated on one particular deformity on Rosinante’s left tibia. It was clear that the bone had broken at least twice, and the breaks had obviously healed incorrectly. There were similar cases in several areas of Cora’s body. What concerned him more was the scar tissue that seemed to have encased countless areas, especially in his joints. 

Law’s hand twitched. He knew Cora had a higher threshold for withstanding pain, but this… He hadn’t the words to describe what it must be like to live in this state. Why didn’t you tell me? All these years, Law could have helped. 

“Tell you what?” Cora said, his hushed voice riddled with concern. 

The question hung in the room, turning the air stale as Law realized his thoughts escaped him. Law clenched a fist before releasing it with a sigh. It would do more harm than good to go after Corazon for hiding his struggle. It mattered more that they were dealing with it now. 

“Nothing,” Law breathed. “I’ve seen what I needed to see.” 

Corazon eyed Law momentarily, as if sensing the hesitation Law had worked through. He couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious after the examination, but he was more grateful for Law’s patience than anything. 

He took a breath, steadying himself, before standing. “I need a smoke.” 

. . . 

The waters carrying the Polar Tang were choppy, each ripple and movement glistening in the afternoon sun. Corazon sat before Law as he took long drags of a cigarette, his expression unreadable.

Law figured it would be most efficient to get straight to the facts. This part, he was reasonably certain about. “Your diagnosis is straightforward. You have several fractures that did not heal in the correct alignment, which impedes your balance, gait, and other aspects of your mobility.”

Corazon merely watched the water in the distance, motionless. 

“The reason I describe it as straightforward is that it is a relatively simple process to repair. Then, there will be an adjustment period in which you will need to strengthen your body to adapt to the new formation of the bones.” Having completed his summary, Law shifted his weight, assessing Corazon’s reaction.

“Doesn’t sound simple to me,” Corazon muttered on an exhale. “Sounds like you’d be spending far too much time cleaning up a mess that isn’t yours.”

“Just because it isn’t mine, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth helping. You don’t have to carry this burden alone,” Law sighed. “We’re in this together, don’t you know that?”

Corazon’s eyes shone as he considered. Yes, they’d been to the end of the world and back, and Corazon would do it again to save Law, but it felt like a different experience to receive that care in return. Selfish, even.

Before Corazon could try and wiggle his way out of Law’s care, Law smiled at him, as bright as the rays of sunshine cascading down on him. “You won’t have to live in pain anymore, Cora-san.”

Ah, that was it. The joy of Law’s peace of mind was worth a thousand times more than Cora was about to undergo. That singular missing piece fell into place as he pictured Law with one fewer worry, one less fear. Corazon couldn’t help but give whatever it took to make that happen.

“You never give up, do you, kid?” Corazon chuckled. “When do we start?”

. . . 

The procedure went exactly as Law said it would - it took several hours of operation to fully mend each old fracture; and simple didn’t necessarily mean easy, but they only needed to go through this once. One procedure, and a journey through recovery, but Corazon and Law would not have to do it again. 

Several months passed after Corazon’s surgery, and he could not deny the immense relief he felt. While he still struggled with his hand mobility at times, he was able to walk on inclines without the wobbly feeling in his steps, and that was a major shift in how he experienced the world.

Teaching his body to move all over again was no easy feat, and he often felt far more vulnerable than he had been in his old clumsiness. Ultimately, while there were “great” days, there were ones where the frustration of learning how to use his body got to him. Again, he was startled to find that he was met with compassion.

Today was much the same. The crew had just finished breakfast, and Law had sat with Corazon to talk while Corazon had his post-meal smoke. 

“How are you feeling today?” Law had asked. 

Corazon struggled with his lighter once, twice, three times, before the spark caught. “Fine,” he mumbled.

“Did you do your hand exercises this morning?” 

Cora strained to avoid Law’s knowing look - the one that said don’t lie or I’ll know. “I’ll do them later.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Law pointed out. “And now you’re paying for it.”

Corazon groaned. “It’s not getting any easier.”

“Improvement isn’t linear,” Law grumbled. “It won’t always feel like you’re improving, but you must keep going. If you stop when you think you’ve hit the ceiling, you’ll never know if it could be better.”

“Is this how you felt when you were a kid?” The thought had just occurred to Corazon.

“What, you mean feeling like I was relentlessly pushed to work hard and get better by some crazy person, even though I didn’t always want to?” Law gave him a mirthful grin. “All the time.”

“Damn,” Corazon muttered. There was no getting out of it then - not when Law gave him the benefit of the doubt all those years ago. 

Cora supposed he was lucky; luckier than he ever thought he could have been, to have taken a chance on a kid who deserved better. As it turns out, they both did.

[newtness532]

did you know that pumpkins are 90% water?

[mwagneto]

i slept through the entire night and didnt wake up a single time for the first time in weeks. is this healing am i healing. please fucks sake please

[freebooter4ever]

What do you miss most about Pittsburgh?

Oh gosh, that's a question! I mean aside from the obvious answer of my old dance buddy lettia or naeem.

I miss pittsburgh's community, specifically the very music and art oriented one i was in. There's community here in LA but its all about fame, and money, and celebrity, and how you can use other people to get ahead. Just the other day i saw an influencer i actually kinda admired brag about meeting someone who out of respect for them + their privacy i have never never mentioned because i met them as a friend first. And it felt so weird seeing this person i know be used as click bait for the influencer's hits/likes/subscriptions. It kind of jolted some reality into me about how this city operates even in the smaller circles i run in. Its like the vibes in LA are all about 'being someone' and self importance. If someone is only going to respect me for my money (or disrespect me for my lack of money), or who i know, or credits to my name, i dont think i want their respect anyway.

Pittsburgh though - nobody was anybody in pittsburgh so we didnt fucking care, lol. It was a lot easier to go to things, to feel connected. There was an emphasis on diy, where it didnt matter who you were or who you knew if you had a good idea there was a chance it could happen. There were things like Art All Night and the various music festivals in the different neighborhoods. I was most connected to the music scene so i miss the casual afternoon concerts in someone's tiny apartment with everyone crowded around the band. The basement parties, the dancing. Ted's rowhouse was on fisk street so when i lived there with friends i really enjoyed how much of a community space it was - people were always coming and going off of butler street, movie nights, human chess parties. It definitely could feel too small sometimes - literally everybody knew everyone and everybody dated everyone. The year i left two of my ex boyfriends were living in the same house and i cant tell you the number of 'male harem' jokes i got about that one. Or the number of times a dude wanted to date me and when i said 'no' i immediately got excluded from an entire friend group. But no matter how frustrating the smallness got, i still was also aware of how special it was. Its also mostly over - a lot of my friends from that time have since dispersed to other cities. I think moments like that are fleeting, but thats what makes them unique.

But even with all that said, you know what my favorite thing to do in pittsburgh was?

Driving

and ok ok that probably sounds stupid. And it probably does not help that im in LA where driving is now the second level of hell. But even compared to seattle or nyc or other places i lived, driving in pittsburgh was just so much fun and you cant recreate that anywhere else. I once saw a data visualization of the main cities of the US and places like LA and even NYC were nicely laid out squares but pittsburgh was just this insane clusterfuck pencil scribble, and thats truly it. Cause not only do you have over 100 bridges and lots of one way roads that will funnel you onto a bridge you absolutely dont want to go over but whoops guess you're going anyway, but this city was also built on a cluster of hills. Thats what makes up the various neighborhoods - and the roads that connect these hills through hollows and over forests - are the most confusing rat maze you can imagine. For every one way to go there's also probably a dozen other options and mentally calculating which route will be fastest taking into account traffic and distance and 'speed limit' is a skill only acquired after years of living in the city. And if you have a tiny car and nasc*ar level driving skills thanks to the multiple generations of engineers in your family....driving up and down those hills is just a joy. It also, uh, helped that I made my own hours so worked from 11am - 3am most days and avoided all traffic. And in the city proper the pigs arent allowed to r*adar so as long as you knew where the speed traps were you could...uhhh... Be lenient. I only ever got pulled over once and that was because one time in the spring of 2016 i went home from work early one night and these asshole hockey fans were taking up the entire street around the rink that would get me onto bigelow and connect me to lawrenceville. And since i couldnt go down that one street, becaues its pittsburgh, i had to go in the complete opposite direction to find another route home which took like an extra fifteen minutes. And yeah i got pulled over, started crying and explaining i was just trying to get home from work, and they let me go. But damn those hockey fans. :P (but also had i realized you could go hangout outside and watch the hockey game on giant screens with a huge crowd of fellow broke but dedicated weirdos, i totally would have loved that. Thats what pittsburgh is all about lmao)

Anyway one of my old friends moved from pitt to LA, and then he moved from LA to shanghai. And i once asked him would he move back to LA and his response was that he couldn't imagine living in LA again after living in a Proper City like shanghai. And he made it clear that he saw being able to 'make it' in larger and larger cities as like...a mark of his personal progress. But me? Im a small town girl unfortunately. I still dream about the day i can fuck off to live in a cabin in the woods somewhere.