#and put on just the best music possible and read books in there

[kansasjustgotgayer]

Its April. I would like to decorate my house for halloween. This is a problem that gets worse every year.

[whatifitis]

♡ Wickedly Amazing - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is stressed and working all day so during his 15 min break, you decide to stress him out even more 😍

Author's Note: this is complete ass, i wrote it in 1 hr, feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 970

CW: fluff, my love for wicked the musical, lando matching girlies freak (i think)

Lando had been spending the whole day in meetings via zoom and to say you were bored was an understatement. You had already cleaned the whole apartment, sent some work emails, and read half your book. You missed Lando, even though he was less than 5 feet away. 

Lando had meeting after meeting and they lasted hours. You really only got to see him when you brought him water and food, just sliding it next to him to stay out of frame of the camera and not distract him. 

But Lando was about to have a 15 min break before his next, and hopefully final, meeting of the day. You took it upon yourself to annoy him in your usual fashion, and try and help him destress him a bit by possibly stressing him out. 

While Lan was wrapping up the meeting, you quietly set up a chair behind him and out of frame. You wrapped a throw blanket around your neck and had a broom in hand. As soon as you heard Lando say goodbye and leave the session, you played Defying Gravity on the speakers. 

As soon as the music started, Lando nearly threw his phone into the hair from the abruptly broken silence. He turns in his seat to see you walk around the corner, playing both Elphaba and Glinda’s bits in the song. 

The smile and amusement on his face was what you did these things for. You loved his smile, even more when he truly was happy and when you were the one making it happen. His smile was so wide and the corners of his eyes crinkled with the bridge of his nose. 

As you kept singing, he was cheering you on with some whistles, fist pumps and “that’s my girl”’s. You walked around the room putting on the performance of a lifetime. 

The bridge was coming up and this was your moment to truly blow away the audience (Lando). 

You made your way to the chair you had set up earlier and stood on top of it, shouting about how soon you’d watch them in renown. You threw your cape back to emphasize the imaginary wind blowing up, holding your broom close to you as you prepare to belt your heart out. 

Lando watched in awe through your whole performance. If anyone asked him about your singing, he’d say it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. Whether you were singing Defying Gravity or 22,  he loved it. He thought you were one of, if not the best, singers in the world. That your talent blew the competition out of the water. It wasn’t often that he got to listen to your singing, so the few times he was able to, he savored every second of it. 

But of course, he couldn’t let you have all the fun. As you belted and approached the final riff, Lando took it upon himself to become a part of the ensemble. He stood up from his seat and raced to kneel before you, slowly lying on the ground and singing along to the backing vocals of the song. 

He watched as you successfully attempted Cynthia Erivo’s rift, not being able to hide the smile that is plastered on his face. 

As the song ends, silence fills the room, only the sounds of the two of you trying to catch your breaths can be heard. You drop the broom and step down from your chair, looking at Lando who is now laying flat on the floor as if he was the one carrying that performance on his back.

He clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon so you decided to join him on the floor, falling onto him and resting your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it slows. You feel Lan wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer to him and feeling him kiss your head. 

Lan unties the blanket from around your neck and wraps the blanket around the two of you, wanting to relax for the next few minutes with his favorite person. “That was amazing,” he says. 

“Would you say it was… wickedly amazing?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him, trying to supress your smile a bit. 

“Oh shut up.” he laughs, feeling you let out a few giggles as well. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, looking up at him, your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“For a lot of things. But mainly for being here, and making me laugh and making me happy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just here, trying my best. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, thanks to you. I genuinely wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve been here through all my bullshit. I was rude as fuck at times, but you still stayed. I don’t know how I could ever repay you and how much it means to me.” Lan confesses, softly rubbing his thumb along your cheek. 

You move to hover over him, resting on your elbow, “You really don’t have to thank me, Lan. I do all of this because I love you. I do everything for you because I care about you. You’re my favorite person in the world and there’s no one I would rather sing with. I want to spend the rest of my silly little life with you, right by your side.”

“I love you.” “I love you.”

You move to capture Lando’s lips in yours. It’s slow and gentle, feeling him relax as you hold the side of his face with your hand. His lips feel warm against yours and he never wants to forget this feeling, of feeling so safe and happy and like he’s truly loved. He never wants to let you go. You’re his girl. His person.

[daenysx]

i was thinking of remus and this is how i like to imagine him in a modern au i guess <33 requests are open if you wanna share with me, angels

remus lupin who's a night owl because apparently the silence is perfect for focusing on his books

remus lupin who ate too much chocolate once, he got sick

remus lupin who keeps eating chocolate because you can't possibly think he'll give up on his serotonin source

remus lupin who smokes in the early mornings as he watches sunrise

remus lupin who looks like a literal angel as he leans from window with his soft lips exhaling the smoke

remus lupin who has sensitive hands, he has to apply a hand cream every night to keep them from drying

remus lupin who takes his coffee black with no sugar

remus lupin who sometimes tries special drinks at a cafe (like pumpkin spice latte?) just because james insists

remus lupin who wears oversized sweaters

remus lupin who sleeps naked

remus lupin who likes long cuddling sessions in the morning

remus lupin who loves having his long legs tangled in yours

remus lupin who gives you sleepy kisses on your warm skin

remus lupin who adores counting the marks you left on his neck and chest

remus lupin who is responsible for making coffee in the morning

remus lupin who likes drinking red wine straight from the bottle with you on his bedroom floor in the evenings

remus lupin who gets quiet and cuddly when he's upset

remus lupin who likes getting his hair played with

remus lupin who uses the word 'dove' far too many times in a conversation with you

remus lupin who has classical pieces and rock songs in the same playlist

remus lupin who likes making love to you for hours

remus lupin who also likes getting rough when you're both in the mood

remus lupin who likes putting his head on the crook of your neck

remus lupin who has a messy handwriting

remus lupin who doesn't tidy up his room unless he really has to because he can't seem to find anything without a search party

remus lupin who needs to use reading glasses but he doesn't like the way they sit on his nose so he's being neglectful a lot

remus lupin who likes wearing mismatched socks when he's alone

remus lupin who has a home that smells like old books and orange cookies

remus lupin who eats all the chocolate before every time you try a new recipe just to see you flustered (also because- well, it's chocolate)

remus lupin who trusts james and sirius with his life

remus lupin who still uses wired headphones

remus lupin who likes sleeping with a background music

remus lupin who gives the best back rubs with his huge hands

remus lupin who likes midday naps

remus lupin who gets obsessed with herbal teas once in a while

remus lupin who can watch three movies in a row

remus lupin who has the comfiest couch you've ever seen

remus lupin who keeps you on the couch until you go lax in his arms as he cuddles you like it's his last day on world

[shadowtriovibes]

mind if i move in closer?

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating: PG

Summary: sickeningly sweet christmas fic, loosely a continuation of the potioneer's apprentice (not necessary to have read to read this!)

“Do you want to borrow my scarf?” you ask him, teasingly preening as he glances over his shoulder at your new accessory. “It’s charmed to keep you warm.” Sebastian frowns. “Who sent you that? Ominis?” “No,” you say, throwing one of the scarf’s long ends across your shoulder. “Just this handsome fellow in Hogsmeade who’s grown quite fond of me.”

December 25, 1891

Christmas morning at Hogwarts is a surprisingly quiet affair.

Having spent many of your formative Christmas mornings in a Muggle boarding school before arriving at Hogwarts, you’ve grown accustomed to waking up to the sounds of eager whispers and excited squeals as the handful of holiday holdovers awoke to find a small array of presents laid out for them. Gifts were usually provided by the kindly heads of house who’d remained at the school during the break – many of whom were just as lonely as the children they watched.

A few oranges and sweets here and there, some secondhand books, perhaps a wooden puzzle for them all to share… It was always lovely, even during leaner years.

Of course, Christmas at Hogwarts was spectacular – massive fir trees decorated with floating baubles and shining ribbons lined the corridors, beautiful music drifted down from the Bell Tower, and the annual feast on Christmas Eve teemed with seemingly endless platters of food.

Your first holiday season at Hogwarts hadn’t been lonely at all. With Ranrok still at large and dozens of poacher camps causing trouble throughout the Highlands, many students chose to spend their Christmas at Hogwarts rather than risking the lengthy train ride back to London or hiking out to their family homes in nearby hamlets.

This year, however, there were only two Slytherins who remained in the castle over the winter break: you and Sebastian.

While the two of you had each been quietly pleased to learn that the other would be staying, you’d both been surprised to learn that even Ominis would be departing to spend Christmas with his family, per their demand. Before he left, he’d darkly insisted that he’d bet a fistful of Galleons that he’d be back before New Year’s Day if his brothers had anything to say about it.

While Ominis sulked, Sebastian had been the one to explain to you that the older pure blood families, many of whom shared your house, are especially traditional during the holidays.

Or, as he’d so bluntly put it, “All the posh ones will be traveling somewhere warmer, and even the snooty half-bloods don’t want to leave their little sprogs here with all the orphans and the impoverished.”

“That’s lovely,” you grumbled.

He’d merely shrugged and smirked, “At least we’ll have the run of the place.”

Christmas Eve dinner, at least, had been fairly lively thanks to a handful of younger Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors who delighted in joining hands and pulling open wizard crackers. Sebastian had insisted you keep the wizard’s chess set he’d received, as yours had contained a live turtle dove that had promptly flown off to roost in the rafters.

(Professor Black, who had also stayed over the holidays, declined Professor Weasley’s invitation to join the holdovers in the Great Hall, which Sebastian insists was the best gift he could have possibly received.)

The pair of you spent the rest of the evening in the common room, taking turns sipping from a bottle of spiced apple brandy Sebastian had managed to charm out of Sirona’s hands during your last trip to Hogsmeade. By the time you’d wobbled up the stairs to the seventh-year dormitories, you’d been unable to stop giggling while Sebastian walked you to your door.

“Get some rest,” he’d laughed, his cheeks flushed red from the alcohol. “Father Christmas can’t bring you presents if you’re still awake, can he?”

“Father Christmas, hm?” you ask, rolling your eyes. “It’s just the two of us, Sebastian. I think he’ll pass over the Slytherin common room this year.”

Something secret sparkled in his eyes, but he said nothing as you opened the door to your room.

Just as you’d turned around to say goodnight, Sebastian leaned in close and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Christmas,” he mumbled. “See you in the morning.”

Before you could even exhale, he’d quickly made his way up the opposite steps to his room and firmly shut his door behind him. You felt warm all over as you’d changed into your nightwear and climbed into bed – not just from the brandy, you’re sure.

But when you wake up… There’s nothing but silence.

The fire across the room is muted with its usual silencing charms, the popping and cracking of the firewood kept quiet while you slept. There are no roommates eager to open gifts, no smells of Christmas treats like roasted ham or cinnamon pastries cooking in the dormitory kitchens down the hall, which you’d cherished in your old schools.

…But at the foot of your bed, you find a small pile of presents.

You smile to yourself as you sit up and rub your eyes, half expecting the delicate boxes wrapped in bright paper and gently curling ribbons to dissolve away as your vision comes into focus. When they remain, you dare to gingerly pull one into your lap, tracing your fingertips over the crisp paper wrappings.

The first parcel is from Augustus Hill, who’d sent over a fine woolen scarf charmed to remain warm and dry even if it collects falling snowflakes that melt against its magical heat. It’s a deep forest green and is wonderfully soft, and you can’t resist wrapping it across your shoulders as you reach for a second gift.

From your potions master Parry Pippin, you receive a fine set of measuring spoons made of polished copper – much more attractive and precise than the brushed pewter spoons you’d ordered from a supply shop in Diagon Alley.

Professor Weasley had even gifted you a box of stationery supplies that contained a set of quills, a few rolls of parchment, and even a pot of ink. A practical gift to be sure, but thoughtful (and quite generous, you think).

Your favorite gift is from Ominis, who’d sent a box of French candies with magical molten centers from a wizarding confectionary shop in Paris, where his family always visits for the holidays. Inside he’d tucked a note insisting that Sebastian had been sent his own box as well and you were not to let him coax you into sharing yours. You’d fondly rolled your eyes before pinning it to your ever-growing collection of correspondences affixed to the wall beside your bed.

Of course, you can’t resist treating yourself to a piece of candy or two while you change into a simple dressing robe and freshen yourself in the wash basin beside the fireplace. One tastes like cherries and brings a delightful pink flush to your cheeks and lips, and the other tastes like nougat and makes you whistle like a songbird while you pull back your hair into a loose braid.

By the time you wander downstairs, Sebastian is already poking at the common room fireplace, cursing under his breath.

“Happy Christmas, Seb,” you call out, tucking your dressing robe tighter around your waist.

“Happy Christmas,” he mumbles distractedly. “It’s bloody freezing in here.”

You smile to yourself as you take a seat on the cozy settee across from the fireplace. Sebastian has managed to rustle up some extra firewood, undoubtedly from one of the empty boys’ dormitories, to ward off the chill of the common room.

“Do you want to borrow my scarf?” you ask him, teasingly preening as he glances over his shoulder at your new accessory. “It’s charmed to keep you warm.”

Sebastian frowns. “Who sent you that? Ominis?”

“No,” you say, throwing one of the scarf’s long ends across your shoulder. “Just this handsome fellow in Hogsmeade who’s grown quite fond of me.”

To your delight, Sebastian’s frown deepens. “What? Who?”

“Oh, you’ve met him,” you answer, feigning indifference. “He’s rather posh, very stylish, always dressed impeccably… You and I saved him from a troll once, if you recall.”

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when he finally catches wind of your little ruse. “Ah, I see. Just playing one of your little games with me.”

“You make it far too easy,” you tease him, unraveling your scarf and gently draping it across his broad shoulders. “There, that ought to warm you up.”

(Immediately your mind starts to wander off as it conjures up images of how else you might warm up your unfairly handsome friend, but you’re quick to chastise it into silence.)

“You’re too kind, love,” he says, that ever-present smirk still on his lips.

Both of you are silent for several long moments while you hang on to the ends of the scarf, staring up into his warm brown eyes. His gaze dips down to your mouth when you bite your lip, and just as you’re about to ask him if he’d like to walk you to the Great Hall for breakfast, he blurts out, “I have a gift for you.”

“You – a gift?” you ask dumbly. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says softly. “Er, I should warn you that it’s nothing big, but… I wanted you to have it, so…”

He trails off quietly, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe.

“I have a gift for you too,” you admit. “I left it upstairs. Can I go get it for you?”

“S-sure,” he stutters. “You bought me a gift?”

“Don’t be daft, Sallow,” you tease him. “I made you a gift.”

With that you turn on your heel and march back up the stairs to your dormitory, snagging the delicate potion bottle shaped like a cloud with an indigo ribbon wrapped around its neck. You gingerly turn it over in your hands, watching as the light purple draught inside swirls around languidly.

Downstairs, Sebastian waits for you with a small box tucked behind his back. He looks slightly nervous, you think, so you decide to offer him your gift first.

“Alright,” you say as you take a seat. “First, let me just say that I had Mister Pippin check this to make sure I did everything right, and he said it’s perfectly fine.”

(In fact, Pippin had said you’d done a brilliant job, but you don’t want to oversell yourself before Sebastian has had a chance to try your brew.)

Sebastian eyes the glass bottle as you offer it to him, gently turning it over in his hands.

“You made this?” he asks softly, and then he grins and asks, “Did Weasley help you at all? Because I already learned my lesson with his ‘Fizzing Whizzbeer,’ thank you very much.”

“No,” you insist, biting back a laugh as you remember Sebastian chugging a bottle of Garreth’s experimental brew and being stuck levitating a few feet above the ground for an entire afternoon. “No, I made this just for you.”

“What’s it do?” he asks curiously.

“Well, it’s… it’s a sleeping draught, sort of,” you say softly. “It’s got lavender for comfort, and valerian springs for restful sleep, but I added cinnamon and a bit of shrivelfig to create peaceful dreams.”

Sebastian slowly tips the bottle back and forth, watching the thin liquid dance around the bottle. “Peaceful, hm?”

You’ve known about his nightmares for a while now. He doesn’t like to talk about them often, but he’s admitted that since that day in the Catacombs, he’s hardly slept a full night without being plagued by visions of those damned Inferi, of his uncle’s limp body, of Anne’s face…

The bleary eyes and wan expression he sometimes wears to breakfast after a particularly hard night tell you everything you needed to know, and you’ve spent the last several weeks visiting Hogsmeade after class to work with Mister Pippin to create your own special draught. Not dreamless sleep, but better sleep.

“I just thought… that you deserve to have some good dreams,” you mumble.

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth quirks up. “I do have good dreams, sometimes.”

(You miss the way he glances over at you, raking his gaze down the length of your body. You miss how it lingers where your dressing robe has fallen open a bit, showing off the delicate neckline of the thin chemise you’re wearing underneath.)

“O-oh,” you stammer. “W-well, I suppose now you can… have more.”

You frown disappointedly until Sebastian rests his warm hand on your knee, gently holding the bottle against his chest with his other.

“Thank you,” he says. “Really, I can’t believe you made this just for me. Merlin, it’s… it’s a perfect gift.”

His gaze is heated, and intense, and something about it makes you want to squirm, so instead you breathily ask, “May I have my gift?”

Sebastian holds your gaze as he slowly nods, only letting it break it when he turns to grab the box he’d hidden behind himself. With trembling hands you lift the lid to find a small silver badge inside, reverently tucked inside a nest of tissue paper.

Your hands go still.

“Sebastian, is – is this…?” you whisper.

“My family’s crest,” he murmurs. “You’ve seen it once before, in our fifth year.”

Gently, you lift the crest out of the box and cradle it in your hands. The heat from your skin quickly starts to warm the cool metal, and you trace your fingertips over the “S” hammered into the center of the badge.

“What – how–” you stutter.

“Earlier this year, Anne sent it back to me,” he explains softly, watching with dark eyes as you pour over the symbols that adorn the crest: a cauldron, a flowering tree, a pair of crossed daggers, and a crescent moon.

“Why?” you whisper.

“I’m still not sure,” Sebastian says hollowly. “She just sent the crest, with no letter. But if I had to guess, I think… I think she wanted me to know that she’s safe, but not where she is. Not yet.”

You clutch the crest against your breast. “Oh, Sebastian…”

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice going rough. “It’s – that’s what it’s for, the crest. I gave it to her to keep her safe, and she gave it back to… to tell me that she’s alright. If that’s all she wants me to know, then… then it’s enough.”

You shift closer to him on the couch, the flickering fire casting dancing shadows along the side of his face.

“Why are you giving it to me?” you ask him curiously. “It’s beautiful, Sebastian, but – isn’t it important to you? To your family?”

He swallows nervously. “I don’t… have a family anymore. Not really. Anne is out there somewhere, safe without me, but… you and Ominis, you’re my only family now.”

You let the crest fall to your lap before you throw your arms around Sebastian, burying your face against that warm scarf of yours he’s still wearing. You don’t have the words to say how much this gift means to you, but you think he understands when he wraps his arms around you, skimming one of his large palms up and down the length of your back.

“It kept Anne safe, and – and now it will keep you safe,” he murmurs. “I don’t… I’m not sure you understand how much you mean to me. I need you to be safe.”

“S’bst’n,” you mumble into his shoulder. “Y’re m’vry’th’n.”

He laughs softly and asks, “Sorry, what was that?”

You pull back just enough to press your lips against the shell of his ear, knowing that if you meet his eyes you’ll never have the courage to tell him how you’ve truly felt about him since your fifth year.

“I said, ‘Sebastian, you’re my everything.’”

Then the hand he’d cupped around the back of your head slides down, down, until he nudges his thumb along your jaw to coax you out of your little hiding place. His eyes are so dark, and the soft whine he lets out before he crushes his lips to yours is all the warning you get, but then… then he’s kissing you.

“Seb,” you gasp into his mouth, and then he lightly tugs on the tie around your waist until you shift yourself halfway onto his lap. It feels like hours go by just like that, just the two of you alternating between lazy, curious kisses and frantic, needy surges every time one of you lets slip another heated confession.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”“You taste incredible.”“I don’t ever want to stop doing this.”

Eventually, you let your head rest on Sebastian’s shoulder while he trails soft kisses from the hinge of your jaw down to your shoulder and back. He’s ravenous, he’d told you himself, but it’s not until his stomach growls loudly between your bodies that you even remember that other type of hunger.

“We’ll miss breakfast if we don’t leave soon,” you whine.

“Let’s stay here,” he murmurs against your neck. “We can eat those chocolates you got from Ominis for breakfast.”

“That’s… tempting,” you sigh distractedly, and then you pause.

Leaning back, you quirk a brow and ask, “Sorry, the chocolates I got from Ominis?”

“Well, sure,” Sebastian says smoothly. “He sent me a book on cursebreaking, but I can taste fancy chocolate on your lips, so I assumed…”

“You filthy liar, Sebastian Sallow,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “He warned me you’d try to talk me out of my sweets!”

“To be fair, that’s hardly the only thing I’ll try to talk you out of,” he drawls, sliding his hands down to your hips. “Namely this robe of yours…”

“Scoundrel,” you croon, leaning down for another hungry kiss.

(Ominis’ chocolates make a decent breakfast, even if half of them melt by the fire, ignored entirely while Sebastian makes good on his suggestion regarding your robe.)

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Let It Snow

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1240

Summary: No killers, no kidnappers, no cases. You and your cabin fevered boyfriend spend the weekend tucked away in his apartment. And since we’ve no place to go…

Notes: I honestly can’t remember the last time I wrote pure Spencer fluff (not including the series) I don’t care how often I use the trope of Spencer reading to me, I love it so much and consider this a Christmas present to myself and something short and sweet for you guys! (Especially during the wait for the second half of In-Betweens season three. I promise I’m working on it!)

More Reid: HERE

-

Snow flitted down into the streets of D.C. with fat white flakes drifting past the beams of the streetlights. Somewhere in the apartment, Christmas music wafted down the hall like the scent of fresh sugar cookies needing to be frosted. It was the time of year when people huddled in their homes, content with staying out of the cold that awaited outside. Well, most people. 

Spencer paced around the living room with a book on something grizzly you didn’t want to know about. His fingers skimmed the pages with a feather-light touch, his lips moving slightly with the ghost of every word. You watched him from your place at the window and sighed. He’d been like this for two days. Without a case, and with the weather keeping you at home, it seemed he was experiencing more than a touch of cabin fever. 

“We should go out,” you announced. 

He didn’t even look up from his book. “You think so?”

“Yeah, why not?” Walking towards him, you coaxed the book out of his hands and set it on the coffee table. “I think they’re playing that really old Christmas Carol down at the theatre you like. You know, the kinda creepy version?”

His eyes lit up, but only for a second. Spence glanced out of the window and frowned. 

“You know, on average, in the winter, the percentage of car-related deaths increases by-”

You blew out a breath. “Nevermind.” You started to return to the window, but Spence’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling you back to him. 

“We could do something here.”

“Spence,” you smiled, “I’ve been waiting for you to come out of your case-coma for two days. What could we possibly do?” 

To be honest, you’d had a couple of ideas ever since he got back from the last case, but you didn’t say that now. 

Spencer thought for a long while, which signaled the return of his pacing. You sighed and laid your head on the arm of the couch, giving up. Turning slightly so you could see the snow flutter down by the window. If you were outside, you’d stand right out in the middle of it, waiting for a flake to land on your tongue and melt. 

“I’ve got it,” Spence said, plopping down next to you. “We should see who can make the best hot chocolate.” 

You lifted your head just enough to look at him. “I’m listening.”

“I mean, we already have all the stuff for it, plus that gingerbread house you’ve been waiting to make with me. Tonight is perfect!” His eyes sparkled with the excitement you loved so much. 

“Promise not to get too competitive?” You asked, raising a brow. 

“What are you talking about?” Spence scoffed. “I’m not competitive.” 

“Uhuh,” you snorted. “And Morgan taped over his music with your voice himself.” 

“That was different.” Spence took your hand, pulling you up and into his arms. “He deserved it.”

You peered at him for a while, dramatically narrowing your eyes in thought. After tormenting him long enough, you held out a sportsmanlike handshake. 

“Alright, Dr. Reid. May the cocoa commence.” 

-

The ‘competition’ was abandoned as soon as you realized that Spence was terrible at making hot chocolate, but was oddly perfect for constructing gingerbread houses. Who knew math could be such help when putting together cookie pieces?

So while you crafted the perfect cocoa, your hyper-focused boyfriend put the finishing touches on the gingerbread house with gumdrops lining the roof. His tongue poked out from his lips, brows drawn together in concentration. 

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, you know,” you giggled, bringing him his warm drink in a mug shaped like an evergreen tree. “That’s part of the fun.”

It was impressive, really. The house looked picture perfect, but he’d added little swirls in the windows and candy cobblestones leading to the door. 

“People only say that because theirs always fall apart. And this-” He gave the paper platform a gentle shake. The house stayed steady. “Isn’t going anywhere.” Spencer gave you a little grin of pride that made you want to kiss him. Instead, you picked up the frosting.

“It just needs a little more,” you hovered the frosting tip over the roof of the house before quickly shifting, dolloping a line of red on your boyfriend’s cheek, “there.” 

His mouth fell open and, before you could get away, he picked up the green frosting and lathered it on your lips. 

“Now it’s perfect,” he said. 

With a feisty smirk and a glint in your eye, you set the frosting down, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled his lips to yours. The kiss tasted like sugar and the hot chocolate that lingered on your tongue. He tasted like cinnamon and smelled like old books. Once the green was decently smeared on his face, Spencer wrapped his arms around you and continued the kiss along your jaw, making sure to get the red frosting all along your skin. 

“Spence!” You squealed, laughter rumbling through both of you. 

He continued until his kisses- and the frosting- reached the spot behind your ear that always made you melt. He leaned over you, one hand on your cheek and one supporting himself on the counter behind you. When he pulled away, his dark eyes were filled with the same want yours reflected back. 

“Well, now we have a different problem.” You ran your finger over his lips, picking up the sugary substance and popping it into your mouth. 

“What’s that?”

You smiled, hooking your finger in a motion that told him to follow. “We need a shower.” 

-

Thoroughly content and a little exhausted, you and your now damp-curled boyfriend climbed into bed, the heat of your steamy shower still lingering between you. Spencer’s voice was low, soft as he read the words in front of him, the sound of Dickens filling your room. 

“Marley was dead to begin with.” 

“That’s gotta be one of the best opening lines in literary history.” You stretched out over his lap, the lace of your red pajama top riding up on your stomach. 

“And it’s totally unexpected for a story about the ‘Jolly Holiday,’” he agreed. “Dickens turned a ghost story into-”

“Baby, you know I love your rants, but if you want to get through the story by next Christmas, you should probably get reading,” you teased. 

“Okay, okay.” He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and continued. 

The Christmas music a few apartments down dimmed to a soft hum as the building went to sleep. 

Spencer finished the first chapter and looked down to find your eyelids drooping, though you battled to stay awake and listen. He chuckled and kissed you again, this time your lips, and set the book aside. 

“I think it’s time we turn in.”

“But I’m not-” you yawned, “tired.”

“Come here. It’s cold.” He cuddled up next to you, pulling you into his arms. 

You hummed, curling into him, faces a breath apart. 

Spence peeked over your shoulder and frowned. Outside, the snow flitted onto the windowsill, fluffy white flakes coating the trees lining the sidewalk. 

“They said it was supposed to be done this afternoon,” he said.

“What?” You craned your neck to get a glimpse.

“It’s still snowing.” 

Turning back to him, you grinned and grabbed hold of the comforter. “Let it.”

Closing the space between your lips, you pulled the blankets over your heads and didn’t come out until the snow stopped. 

[lostinlads]

Faulty Evols and Late-Night Rides

Synopsis: After a failed resonation with Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, he sweeps you away in the middle of the night to a warehouse. What's waiting for you are tests and a disappointment red-eyed man.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, , mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, biker!sylus, descriptions of food, mc is basically just a worry wort that sylus is gonna kill her, angst

Words: 3.8k

an: Howdy! So- uh this chapter is a bit long to say the least. And i did have some tech difficulties with ao3 deleting some of the chapter otherwise this wouldve been posted a few hours ago, but i hope you enjoy!!! we are slowly getting into it more and i hope you all continue to like this direction we are going in! Feel free to let me know any feedback and let me know if you catch any mistakes as well!!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

You've finally managed to get some sleep, though without a clock to tell you how long, you were starting to feel a bit better. You've been awake for a few hours, digging through the boxes that consumed the room and lazily putting things away in silence. You wished nothing more than to have your laptop, to play music or put on a movie in the background because the quietness of the house only added to the eeriness. But unfortunately, beggars can't be choosers, so you work in the stillness of your new room.

A lightness in your chest as your eyes fall upon your book collection, the first thing to have a place in here. Finally able to do something other than stare out at the expansive black of the outside. Maybe Sylus wouldn't need you much, you able to lock yourself away in your room and transcend to other worlds that wait eagerly in those pages. Though, you knew it would be too good to be true.

Three soft rasps on the door draw you from your daydream of escaping. Standing upright in the center of the room, expecting to see the twins, or the devil himself. But with a soft click, the door opened, and you found yourself looking at an older woman. Her graying hair pulled into a tight bun as a blue cleaning uniform clung to her body. If it weren't for her age, at first glance you would've guessed it would be Sylus's wife. But unless he was into older women, she looked closer to being his mother. 

"Mister Qin would like to see you in the dining hall, he sent me to retrieve you." The maid spoke, dark eyes staring at you. You nod, wiping your hands on your thighs as you step forward to follow her out to the winding hall. She led you through the house, your brain trying to memorize the way she took so you can figure out any path this house would lead you to. 

Your palms began to sweat, balling them in tight fists to control the nerves binding in your stomach. You take a deep breath, trying to be as quiet as possible to not show any weakness in front of the maid, though she no doubt see the fear in your eyes. The look of prey being handed over to the predator. The only sound echoing in the empty halls is both pairs of your feet.

The woman leads you through a grand room, you would've mistaken it for a ball room, but you realize it's an entryway. Delicate paintings line the walls, a small table holding a vase and a flower sits at the far corner. Almost something from a period piece movie. But she turns right, two grand doors opening as she walks through. You make your way in, tailing her as best you could, and make out this must be the dining hall. A long wooden table lay in the middle of the room, a golden silk tablecloth stretching the impossible length with a candelabra sitting magnificently in the middle. Chairs line the sides, thick wood with blood red cushions resting on the backs and seat. You almost don't realize Sylus sitting at the head, glasses pushed on his nose with papers littering the space in front of him and in his hand. You gulp.

"Thank you, Selene," He speaks, not looking up from his readings. She turns and leaves, the heaviness of being left alone in the room with him falls onto your shoulders. Teeth gnashing at the inside of your cheek as you stand there, rubbing your hands on your pants once more as you wait for a command, not wanting to push Sylus into harming you.

He looks up from his papers, eyes scanning over your figure through the lenses of his glasses. Embarrassment blooms inside of you, painting your cheeks a flushed pink as you remember your outfit. Plush pajama pants hang from your hips, a sweater wrapping around your upper body one single shoulder on display from it hanging loosely on you. You shuffle uncomfortably in your slipper clad feet as his eyes drink you in. You didn't even know if this outfit had been appropriate for this time of day, whatever that may be. A smokey rope appears from him, pulling the wooden chair from the table out. 

"Sit," His voice commanding, powerful. You obey, shuffling towards it and sliding in soundlessly before it yanks forward, a gasp falling from your lips. "Dinner will be served soon." Your mind reels at what could be served to you. The crackers and granola running out last night leaving your growling stomach to be the only sound in your room. You prayed this wouldn't be some sick game, him feeding you slop while he gets served a grand meal, leaving you to watch in starvation. You just nod, folding your hands on your lap as they wring together. 

Silence washes over you both again, the quiet sounds of fluttering pages as Sylus continues to look over his work in front of him. Your eyes scan the room, dark painted walls with deep wooden accents. A chandelier hangs above the long table, lighting the room in a warm glow, only making it more gothic. You could imagine Dracula living here, bringing beautiful women in to be his victims before he drinks them dry. Maybe that nightmare would be better than the one you're living in now, seduced to think some handsome man was taking you to be his bride and end up his dinner. 

You look down at your hands, pulling your sleeves past your fingers as you wait for food, hunger pains growing from the thought as your mouth waters. 

A door opened, making you jump at the sudden sound, turning your head to see a man in a chef coat wheel a cart into the room. The next thing you notice is the smell. How mouthwatering the wafting sent was, you can almost taste it. If the cartoons were real about people flying through the air at the scent of pie, that would be you. Your only consuming thought is how delicious it must be, your stomach audibly growling to show your need for it. 

Sylus's smoke tendrils swirl through the air, gathering the papers from the table and placing them in a neat pile next to him, which he placed his glasses on a moment later. The chef wheels the cart between you and Sylus, large plates filled with the most exquisite looking food you've ever seen laying on top with twin wine glasses sitting between them. He picks one up, placing it in front of Sylus, followed by a wine glass.

"Tonight we are having grilled Delmonico steak, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. For sides; we have roasted potatoes, biscuits, and slices of clementines." He places your plate in front of you, you watch as the golden butter on the potatoes glisten in the light, the juices from the thinly sliced steak dip nearing the edge of the plate before settling back into place. The biscuits split, the fluffy light bread on the inside looking like a cloud, aching for you to dine on it. And a small bowl containing evenly placed citrus slices, their scent wafting through your nostrils. You fought hard not to tear into everything before he could place the plate fully on the table, your hunger growing ravenous at you nearly drool at the sight of the art in front of you. He placed your glass in front of you.

"For the wine," He bends down, opening a small door on the side of the cart, pulling a wine bottle from a chilled bucket of ice. "We are serving Chateau Margaux, one of your favorites, Mister Qin." He pops the cork, creating another small jump from you before he pours a generous amount in both of your glasses, more than the usual amount. You note the scent, something vintage, something you remember from those late nights at galas and expensive dinners with your father. 

"Thank you, Chef," Sylus speaks, a hint of appreciation or fondness in his tone. "Everything looks delicious." The chef nods.

"Enjoy," He turns, wheeling the cart from the room, leaving Sylus and you alone with the hot, fresh meals in front of you both. You don't move a muscle, not knowing if this would turn into a trap, letting you almost taste real food for the first time in days, just to rip it from under you. Eyes scanning everything on the plate, taking in every last detail of the meal as you inhale the scent like a dog begging for a bite.

"Eat," Sylus commands, annoyed. You look at him for a second, blinking. The all too familiar crease between his brows there, eyes hard as he lifts a piece of steak from his plate. You watch as his teeth sink into it, sharp, slicing right through. With a shaky breath, you gulp, turning back to your own plate and lift up a fork. The silver heavy in your hand as you let the weight sink into your palm for a second, deciding on what first to consume. You decide on the potatoes, knowing if you start with the steak, you will only embarrass yourself further, ripping it apart like a rabid animal. The second it touches your taste buds you couldn't help the small moan pass your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. It almost felt worth it waiting for days to eat real food, with this the first thing to bless your mouth.

"It's delicious..." You whisper out, stabbing your fork into the meat, not wanting to wait any longer to consume it. 

"Our chef is a master in his work," His words ring loud as he appraises his employee. The two of you fall into silence, forks tapping in the plates and muted chewing filling the space between. You tasted the wine, sweetness blooming on your tongue as the warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach. Every bit of the meal complimenting each other, filling you up far sooner than you thought it would. Your plate only half eaten; wine downed as the soft buzz in your veins made you feel warm inside. Placing your fork back down, you lean back in your seat, head down with your hands on your lap.

"Uhm," You start, not knowing how to let him know you stuffed to the brim.

"If you're finished, head to your room and get dressed. We have somewhere to be," He spoke, eyes never wavering from his food as he lifts his glass to his wine-stained lips. You nod, pushing out of your chair to stand. It felt awkward, leaving your plate behind for someone else to clean up, but you really didn't want to feel more incompetent than you already do, having to be walked through basic steps of living all over again. 

To your surprise, the maid was waiting outside the door, hands clasped behind her back as she stared down the hall. You clear your throat, her head snapping to you before blinking twice.

"Ah, you're finished," She speaks with surprise, eyes drifting to the large grandfather clock along the other wall. You follow, the time displaying eight thirty, but you weren't sure if it was day or night. 

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know..." Words trailing off as she begins to walk you back to your room, the familiar route slowly engraving in your mind. 

"I expected you to be gone longer, no worries," Selene chirps, an odd warmness in her tone. 

You make it back to your room, Selene bids you a farewell, telling you Sylus would be meeting you outside once you're ready before turning on her heel and leaving. You shut the door, the lack of a lock latching stretching in the silence before you turn to your dresser. The problem now was you had no idea what Sylus had in mind for your outing. Somewhere to be? That could only mean so many things, and after yesterday your mind told you that you would be sold off yet again. Faulty evol not to his tase so he would simply throw you away. 

Hands shuffling through the drawers you find a simple outfit, jeans and a t-shirt, if he had more elegant plans, well he should've said so. You shuck out of your sleepwear, tossing your new outfit on you make your way to the bathroom. Eyes washing over your appearance, hair tousled from sleep and lounging all day, dark circles under your eyes, and the most pathetic look on your face. Looking like a beaten kitten, fear etched into your eyes, cheeks sunken in, and a soft frown on your stained lips. You almost didn't recognize yourself. With a huff you reach for your brush, raking it through your locks, wincing at every small knot that tugs your scalp. You also decide to wash your face, splashing cold water to try and flush the color of your cheeks, convince yourself that you're still alive. It helps, a soft blush spreading over the apples and the tip of your nose. 

Satisfied, you turn to leave, your hand stuttering to a halt on the handle of your door before you retreat, eyes scanning over your messily unpacked items. They fall onto your jacket, thrown across the chair of the desk in the corner. Might as well bring it, you weren't familiar with the weather of the N109 Zone at this time of year, better safe than sorry. 

You walk through the halls for the first time alone, the sense of being caught for doing so etching into your bones, fear creeping up your spine. You knew your instructions, but spending days locked away to roaming the halls freely seemed like a trap. Maybe you should've waited for him to come and get you, but Selene told you to meet him. The sigh that escaped your lips was involuntary, slipping out while you turn down another hall - hoping you're heading in the right direction.

Finding yourself in what you think looks like an entryway. Peering out the window, vast darkness stretches as far as your eyes can see, the only thing you can make out is a soft glow of a light close by. This should be it, if not you could find your way around the large house until you spot him. You open the door, slipping out through the crack, you're grateful for grabbing the jacket, cool air nipping at the exposed flesh greedily. You follow the source of light, the sound of an engine humming in your ears as you draw closer. 

Sylus, dressed in leather, leaning on a motorcycle comes into view. Large muscular arms crossed over his chest as his eyes remain on the gravel blow his boots. Lips still stained that deep red color, which you are disgusted to admit, looks divine on him, matching his wine-colored eyes. Gravel crunches, he lifts his head, face unchanging as he takes in your appearance.

"Where... are we going?" You decide to ask, putting on a brave face as you shift under his watchful eyes. He pushes himself from the bike, grabbing a helmet before walking over to you. 

"I have a... friend - who might help your little evol situation." That sure didn't sound ominous at all. You nod, gulping down the bubbling fear inside you as you stare into his eyes. He slips the helmet onto your head, using his knuckle to lift your chin up - your cheeks flame. The gesture so soft, so unlike Sylus. He leans in close, eyes drifting from yours, to your lips, then to the strap hanging loosely by your neck. Fingertips barely graze past your skin as he tightens it, a snug - almost perfect - fit as it secures. Sylus's eyes meet yours once more for a split second before he turns, climbing onto his bike in a movement so fluid it almost seemed like a rehearsed dance. 

"Well?" He shoots you a look as he slips his own helmet on, looking at you expectantly. Right. You walk over and climb on, attempting to leave as much space between the both of you as you can on the small machine. Your hands reach out and shakily hold onto his sides, barely touching him. Until you feel a push from behind you, knocking your chest flush to his back and arms around his thin waist. 

"You need to hold on tighter. We can't have you falling off, can we, Kitten?" His voice loud and clear through the helmet, an intercom? One of his hands coming to secure your arms tight around him. He could probably hear how loud you were breathing through his helmet but he only thing you could think of was his intoxicating scent flooding your every being. Warm, worn leather, deep fresh citrus, with a smokey and sweet scent undertone and hints of a manly cologne. It consumed you, something so musky but so elegant, you wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you. If you weren't so drunk on his scent, you would be shaming yourself. How could you think this way of this criminal. This man who took you from the only home you've ever known. Who confessed to wanting to use you as his weapon. But right now, his body was warm, pressed to yours, his scent filling your senses and making you dumb, strong muscles under your fingertips. Everything telling you this was safe, this is comfort. You wished you didn't have this damned helmet on, wanting to press your cheek to him and breathe him in completely, but sadly, that wouldn't be your fate today.

Before you could think, the bike beneath you roared, the vibrations rattling your bones, making your teeth chatter. 

"Hold on tight, Sweetie," Sylus purred in your ears, his back rumbling with his words against your chest as you sped off into the darkness before you. He was so fast, zipping into the night like a bullet with you clinging onto him for dear life. The sudden jolt coaxing a gasp from your lips, eyes bulging wide as the scene around you blurs to nothingness. Sylus's unmistakable dark chuckle bounces around your skull, obviously amused at your shock and fear. 

"Does the N109 Zone not have speed limits?" You shriek, clinging impossibly closer to him.

"What do you think?" Tone mocking, as if you willingly spent any time in this hellscape alone. You don't answer him, looking off into the distance, trying to make anything out other than streaks of light. 

The cold air whipping at your hands made them sting. If only he would slow down maybe they wouldn't hurt so much. Your intoxication of him washing away to nothing more than annoyance once more.

He confused you, everything he said and done contradicting each other, making your head hurt. His gentle touches but harsh looks? Taking you away from your home but carefully packing up your belongings and bringing them here for you? You couldn't decide if he was cruel or thoughtful. But you still didn't have a phone, or anything for you to communicate with for that matter, so maybe his plan is to isolate you. Lock you away in his tower forever. Not like you weren't used to it, your father practically doing the same thing for years. But there you were home, not stuck in the N109 Zone, promised to be used by the leader of fucking Onychinus.

You would just have to keep your distance from him, which is a hard thing to say as your bodies are pressed so close you could feel every calm, controlled breath that graced his lungs. After today you would stay away, not look for any answers from him, keep your head down. Not that you haven't, but the way your brain looked too far into his caresses, the way it nearly shut down at his smell alone, you had to be careful. 

You zip through the dark, Sylus expertly swerving down streets and past cars, only making you panic more. Preparing for the inevitable crash your nerves told you was going to happen. But before it could happen, Sylus rounded a corner and slowed to a stop.

The building before you large, and dimly lit only adding to the haunting feeling of today. You didn't move, hands still clutching him as you tried to calm your beating heart back into a normal pace. 

"You can get off now," Annoyance etched onto every word. You obeyed, though you really didn't want to. Throwing your leg over and bracing them shakily on the pavement under you. Sylus followed, swift precise movement he's probably done thousands of times before. His long legs stride over to you, lifting your chin to undo the strap under your chin before he slides the helmet off. He copies the same with his, placing them both on the seat as he glides effortlessly towards the large double doors of the building.

You chase after him, two steps for each of his.

Inside was almost like another world to you, weapons lining the walls and littered over tables, some creating a soft glow to them. You noticed pretty quick that they had been altered with protocores, then it clicked to you. This is Sylus's job. Creating illegal weapons with altered, and equally as illegal, protocores. Selling them to people, to your father. Your beating heart in your chest reminded you just how rare the one lodged in it was, desirable and sought after by people like Sylus. You gulp.

"Mister Qin, I wasn't expecting you today," A man walked out from behind a machine, rubbing grease off of his hands with a worn rag. Sylus pulled out a chair and slipped onto it, plucking a pocket knife up from the table and flipping the blade open. Blue currents buzzed out, obviously altered by a protocore.

"I have a special situation you need to look into for me," Wine stained lips curling into a smirk as his eyes stay trained on the knife, flipping it between his long, skilled fingers. The man made his way over, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to Sylus. 

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?" Sylus's eyes finally land on you, almost zeroing in like a predator. 

"I need you to run some tests on her." Your mouth runs dry, hands sweating as you ball them by your sides. Your exhausted body almost collapsing at the nerves tremoring through it. This was it, your fate. If you failed him, no doubt he would have this man carve your heart out and rip the damned core from it to have himself. "Says she has an aether core in her heart but her evol isn't working. We need to figure out why." 

[act-nat-ural]

@madlyney: Hii! Hope your day’s been good!! Could I request for smth cute with Akaashi Keiji? Preferably in a time skip!

word count: 883

The warm, inviting scent of old paper and freshly printed pages filled the quiet bookstore, where the soft hum of distant music made the atmosphere all the cozier. You had wandered in during a rainy afternoon, hoping to find a peaceful escape from the downpour outside. You pulled a few novels from the shelf, their bright covers and intriguing titles inviting you in, and you tucked them under your arm as you navigated your way through the aisles, looking for a place to sit and start reading.

But as you moved toward the quiet reading nook, a catastrophe struck.

A precarious stack of books beside you teetered dangerously. Before you could catch it, the entire pile tumbled forward, scattering across the floor with a loud thud. You cringed at the sound, knowing you had disrupted the peace of the little bookstore.

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you quickly crouched down, gathering the fallen books and trying to make as little noise as possible. But as you reached for a particularly heavy hardcover, another hand appeared beside yours, picking it up before you could.

You looked up to see a young man with dark hair, a calm expression, and intense deep blue eyes. He was tall and well-dressed, with a hint of curiosity in his gaze. The stranger didn’t say a word, only offering a small smile as he handed you the book.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, your cheeks still burning. You took the book from him and started stacking it with the others, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he crouched down beside you, silently helping you collect the scattered volumes.

Once you were both finished, you stood, brushing imaginary dust from your knees. “I’m so sorry for disturbing everyone,” you said, giving him an apologetic smile.

The young man shook his head slightly. “No need to apologize. These things happen.” His voice was soft but steady, calming in a way that put you a little more at ease. He set the last book back in its place with a careful precision, as though handling something fragile.

“Thank you again,” you said, feeling a bit flustered under his calm gaze. “I didn’t mean to cause such a scene.”

“Not at all.” He looked at you with a faint glimmer of amusement. “Most people don’t take the time to put them all back the way you did. It’s nice to see someone who cares.”

You offered a sheepish smile, trying to brush off the compliment, but something about the way he looked at you—so quietly attentive—made you feel as if he genuinely appreciated it. His eyes drifted to the books you held, and he tilted his head just slightly. “You have good taste,” he remarked, gesturing to the novels in your arms.

You laughed a little, surprised by his insight. “Thanks. I’m trying to catch up on my reading list before school starts up again.”

“Studying literature?” he guessed, his expression curious yet respectful.

“Yeah. I’m actually majoring in English lit,” you replied, feeling your shoulders relax as the conversation flowed naturally. “I just transferred here, so I’m still getting used to everything. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

He nodded, as if he understood. “New places can feel like that,” he said. “But if you need any help navigating, I’m familiar with the area. I’d be happy to show you around.”

“Oh, really? That would be amazing, actually. I’ve been a little lost since I got here,” you admitted, laughing a bit at your own expense. “Thank you…?”

“Akaashi,” he said, extending a hand. “Akaashi Keiji. And it’s no trouble at all.”

You shook his hand, feeling a faint warmth in his gentle grip. “Thank you, Akaashi. I’m (Name).”

His smile softened, as if he were pleased to finally put a name to your face. “Nice to meet you, (Name).”

The two of you spent the next few minutes talking about the campus, your favorite genres, and the nearby coffee shop that, according to Akaashi, had the best pastries in town. His voice was calm, soothing, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything you had to say. There was a natural ease in the conversation, as if you’d known each other far longer than the few minutes you’d actually spent together.

“Do you have a favorite book?” he asked eventually, his expression thoughtful.

You pondered for a moment, then named a title that was close to your heart, watching as his eyes lit up. “I’ve read that one too. It’s incredible,” he agreed, and his genuine enthusiasm only made you want to talk to him more. “It’s rare to find someone who appreciates it.”

“Well, I’m glad I ran into you, then,” you said with a smile, feeling a bit bolder.

The afternoon drifted by as you chatted, completely lost in conversation, the awkwardness of your first encounter melting into an unexpected connection. Finally, after checking the time, you both headed out together, agreeing to meet up sometime soon for coffee and maybe a little campus tour.

As you stepped outside, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the world fresh and shimmering under a gray sky. Akaashi walked beside you, and you felt a little more grounded, a little less out of place, knowing that someone was there to help you find your way.

note: almost forgot to post this ngl….

[xoxochb]

Ok, could I PLEASE get a Leo x fem!reader fan fic where they're best friends but both want to be more (maybe they kiss...idk) ??? Pls, I'm desperate. There's not enough Leo fanfics and you're such a good writer.

— astronomy nerd

warnings: leo has W rizz 💯 (do people still say this?) pairing: leo valdez x fem! reader

“well anyways, there is no sound in space because there’s no atmosphere to carry the sound vibrations. It’s really cool if you think about it. are you thinking about it? whatever, did you know the sunsets on mars are blue? how cool is that?! and one million earths could fit in the sun, isn’t that awesome! just imagine that, the sun is huge, I mean seriously-”

your voice trails off forever, you had been talking non stop about miscellaneous outer space facts since leo had walked into your cabin and caught you reading a planet book. it’s not that he hated listening to you talk, gods no, he would listen to you talk for hours on end without a stop but in this particular moment he found himself distracted by the bright smile adorning your lips, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. and with you being too busy caught up in your space talk you fail to realize leo hadn’t been listening

but you did, however, finally take notice when you ask him a question and he doesn’t respond, stuck in some kind of daze. you call out his name three times before snapping your fingers in front of his eyes, making them widen and his cheeks flush red

“you weren’t listening” you point out

“I’m sorry I- uhm, I’ll listen now. sorry”

you sigh. “what do you think about creating life on mars?”

creating…life? it doesn’t even take a second for leo’s brain to go from concentrating on your words to imagining creating life within you, forget fucking mars, when you’re older and leave camp preferably married with kids. with your good looks and his humor that’d be one hell of a child! he can’t suppress the widening grin, which you additionally notice

“you’re not listening again! what are you thinking about?”

“I think you should!”

your brows furrow at the late reply to your question. “okay… well I surely can’t. but the scientists at nasa know that mars has water so really if you think about it we need to bring seeds from earth to mars and we can build trees, y’know? then that will create oxygen— mars has a very thin atmosphere meaning you can’t breathe on it, but if you just put this huge tent around it the oxygen would start flowing and you’d be able to breathe. does that make sense?”

“what would the tent do if there’s no atmosphere on mars though?”

“I watched a movie about it once… but… you make a good point” you frown, realizing your information had gotten mixed. leo mirrors your expression when he realizes he had upset you. the aura of the room suddenly becomes very awkward

don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid-

leo’s mouth fails him. “what does a star win in a competition?”

your lips twitching upwards was worth the idiotic joke he’s about to respond to

“a constellation prize”

“I have another! what type of music do planets sing?”

“what type?”

“nep-tunes!”

your laugh progresses. “where did you find these jokes?”

(the second he found out you liked astronomy and outer space he had researched like crazy so he could come up with the best jokes possible to impress you). he shrugs. “I made them myself”

“really?”

oh gods he hopes the blush on his face isn’t visible. “yeah…”

“you should be, like, a stand up comedian or something. you’re really good”

okay, yeah, he’s gonna put a ring on it the first chance he can get (your wedding has been elaborately planned already, he keeps the plans hidden underneath his mattress). with your smile as bright as the stars, eyes reflections of the moon, your hair cascading over your shoulders like the sunset over the evening sky, extremely captivating to the eyes of the silly son of hepheastus. he hoped he didn’t look like a lovesick puppy right now, staring at you like this, yet he’s surprised to find your gaze mirrors his. oh no

no no no. leo prays to ever god and goddess he’s aware of that you can’t visible see his cherry red cheeks or his smile of contentment

“do you think there’s more than one universe?” he blurts out

“of course. why?”

“because I think I’d love you all the same in every one regardless of our forms”

good gods of olympus your heart skips a beat or two. act casual

“even if I was a worm?”

“I’d build you a terrarium”

“If I was a star?”

“I’d place myself next to you”

you shouldn’t be tearing up at the thought of this but you can’t help the drops of salty water that fall from your eyes. “In every universe would you be staring at my lips instead of listening to what I’m saying?”

“if your lips always look this kissable, then yes”

oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods so this is really happening? this is real life? surely, truly?

“leo, can I-”

“please”

you suck in a breath and whisper, “I’ve never done this before”

“I haven’t either”

very slowly, almost like neither of you had moved at all, you lean in until your lips finally meet in the middle at last. not just the first kiss, because this surely was not going to be the last

[delusional-day-dreamer]

First. Love. Part² - p.b

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‣ paige bueckers x oc

‣ wc: 12079 (this took me way too long but I got carried away...)

‣‣ synopsis: background on paige and jenna's relationship, how they met, fell in love, and how paige ended up becoming jenna's first heartbreak and eternal muse.

‣‣‣ a/n: So High School Part 2 will be out soon (i have no idea where to take the plot in that series 😔), this is sort of a filler chapter in between the podcast episode in part 3 to give context. EDIT: I changed Jenna's major to be Business Economics with a minor in Film, Television, and Digital Media because it's more relevant for the later plot!

June 30th, 2016 (summer before freshman year; 14 years old)

Jenna's POV:

You didn't know how much more of this stupid city you could handle. You had just locked your front door behind you as you left to go to the pool inside your new neighborhood, excited to read a book you had bought the other day while sunbathing on a lounge chair.

Your parents had just uprooted your life and moved you from San Diego, California, land of sunshine, beaches, and only a small amount of criminal activity, to middle of nowhere Hopkins, Minnesota, right before you started high school with all of your old friends.

Of course you understood that this was for the better of your family, both of your parents had gotten new jobs at a huge hospital with far better pay than their previous ones, they found a beautiful house in a nice neighborhood close to what was going to be your new school, and living in your dad's hometown meant being close to his family.

However, none of these facts soothed the bitter taste in your mouth that formed at the thought of having to be the new kid, having no friends to hang out with for the rest of summer or to start school off with, no job or classes to distract your never-ending train of thoughts, and you didn't even have a sibling to act as your built in friend.

Regardless, you tried your best to adjust to your new, albeit lonely, life by distracting yourself as much as possible. Your parents had re-enrolled you in music lessons the same week you finished moving into your house, gave you an allowance to buy new clothes and hang out at the local mall, as you very quickly realized your Californian wardrobe would not fit the Minnesota weather, despite it being summertime (although you hadn't gone yet as you hated shopping alone), and you had even been going to the pool frequently with the hopes of meeting kids close to your age.

And it just so happened that today, your prayers had been answered. As you were walking down the street, the door to a house you had just crossed by across the street had barely opened before a small boy barrels out, closely followed by a taller, blonde girl who appeared to be around your age, locking the door behind the two of them. You weren't able to put a finger on it, but there was simply something about the girl that was mesmerizing, just a quick glance at her had you wanting to know more.

You had always known you liked girls to some extent, you always found yourself gazing at the t.v. in wonder at the beautiful girls displayed upon the screen. However, it wasn't until probably a hundred, "Am I Gay?" internet quizzes later in seventh grade you recognized the fact that you were queer and were in fact attracted to girls, you just didn't bother telling anyone about this revelation.

In particular, the girl in front of you invoked millions of questions that raced through your mind: who was she, was she your age, was she going to the same high school as you, and most importantly, why was she so pretty? Her blonde hair cascaded down her back with a slight wave to them, her white oversized t-shirt and black basketball shorts draped over her tall frame, and her voice that rang out as she scolded the little boy who ran in front of her to the end of their walkway.

God, her voice was the most intoxicating thing you had ever heard, luring you into her like a siren's song to the depths of the ocean. You swore you were floating at the twinkling sound of her laughter echoing around the block as she joked with, who you head her refer to as, her little brother.

You snapped out of your stunned daze and continued walking forward as she followed her little brother onto the main sidewalk, now almost parallel with your frame. You were mentally counting your blessings that she hadn't looked up enough to see your stalker-esque figure staring at her, although you were praying that she happened to be going to the pool as well (definitely not so you could look at her some more).

Truly, God had decided to pay special attention to you today, as your blonde neighbor grabbed her little brother's hand as she crossed the street, making her way towards you. You couldn't help but glance at her as she approached you, and you were taken aback by the shockingly blue eyes that met yours. You gave her a tight-lipped smile as she stepped up to the sidewalk just behind you, hoping your internal panic wasn't apparent on your face as you faced forward once again.

Your focus on taking deep breaths in and out to not embarrass yourself in front of the first person your age you've even made eye contact with in the last month is interrupted by the little boy running past you, gently bumping into your leg as he brushes past you. His short legs are working overtime to maintain a pace faster than both you and the pretty stranger, who had now jogged up next to you to keep close to her brother.

"Drew the pool isn't gonna run away by the time we get there, you gotta slow down buddy," She called out to the curly-headed child, turning her head to peer slightly down at you.

"Sorry about him, he gets really ahead of himself sometimes," She apologized on his behalf, her eyes scanning over your face. Before giving you a chance to reply, she continued on. "Are you new to the neighborhood? I don't think I've ever seen you around?" She questions, your heart slightly speeding up at the undivided attention she was paying to your face.

"No yeah I am, I just moved here from California," you replied, tucking your hands into the pockets of your shorts to avoid any nervous flailing.

"No way, that's so cool, I've always wanted to visit. Did you live next to the beaches? One of my old friends went there for vacation and she loved it, like she wouldn't shut up about how nice it is over there. I think she went somewhere close to LA. Wait are you going to the pool too?" Her outgoing demeanor surprised you. You had only seen her for the first time a minute ago, and she was already carrying you into a conversation about your old life.

"Yeah I did and I am, I lived in San Diego so the beaches there were really nice compared to the northern part. I miss being able to go there all the time, so I guess for now the pool will just have to do," you joked back, and your heart fluttered at the smile that broke out on her face.

It had appeared that you made your first friend in Hopkins, Minnesota, and unbeknownst to you, she would quickly become your first ever best friend. Then your first girlfriend, your first love, and then slowly, your first and last heartbreak.

April 4th, 2017 (spring break, freshman year; 15 years old)

Paige's POV:

"Dude there's no way you think pancakes are supposed to be better than waffles, they're so boring," I protested on my bed next to Jenna, rolling onto my stomach towards her and propping up my elbows so I could look at her. Jenna had somehow become my best friend within the span of two months during summer, and although I was unsure of when and how her presence became so prominent in my life in such a quick span of time, I was nothing but grateful.

We had started high school together and even had a class together everyday, which was a saving grace for both of us. She came to every single one of my home games this season, even some of the closer away games. She made it to more of my games that any person in my family did, which surprised me, but she just was always there for me somehow.

I was never the best at making friends outside of basketball, the sport was my comfort zone and it was always so much easier to relate to my teammates who felt the same. Yet, me and Jenna just clicked, despite our many differences. Hanging out with her quenches a thirst within me I didn't know I had. A thirst to be seen, to be heard and known, a desire for someone to see me past all my future athletic potential and to just see me, and without fail, she did that for me. Every. Time.

One of the things we discovered early into our friendship, the first time she came over to my house to hang out, were our matching initials. PB and JS, which we affectionately coined to be our nicknames, Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich (pretend pazzi does not own this nickname). Jenna always says that our matching initials are a sign from above, a sign that we're meant to stick by the other's side. We even bought matching necklaces with our initials over winter break as a mutual Christmas present, mine was silver and hers was gold.

Our parents loved the nickname as well, joking that it's the reason they can never separate us, as you just can't have one without the other. Our families somehow became intertwined over the course of our friendship as well, trading in between carpool duties, spending long weekends and the occasional holiday together, and even coming to cheer me on at my basketball games or watching Jenna's dance recitals from the class she took instead of P.E. We all even went out to eat together to celebrate me and Jenna's small freshmen year milestones, like our birthdays.

Hers was a bit before mine, September 21st, 2001, which made her just slightly older than me. Apparently according to the Minnesota school laws or whatever, Jenna is supposed to be in the grade above, but California has different age cutoffs so she's one of the oldest people in our grade.

She confessed to me before school started that she was nervous about being the eldest out of everyone, but I reassured her by saying that it just meant she could drive the two of us around and do a bunch of other things before everyone else could. That really helped.

She even let me into her secret world of music, I knew she took classes but until she played and sang for me, I didn't realize just how good she was. She was fairly shy when it came to her talent, and almost never played in front of people she wasn't comfortable with, which is why it felt like an honor when she played a song on the piano or guitar for me, or sang for or with me, whether it was playing from the radio or something small she wrote.

But the thing that really brought us closer together was when Jenna's parents had to go out of town from time to time for their medical conferences, which left her home alone. When she was younger, she always used to go with them, as missing school wasn't that big of a deal. But now, she ended up refusing, insisting that she would be alright home alone.

This didn't fly with either of our families, and our parents eventually came to the conclusion that Jenna could just stay over at our house when needed. It wasn't like me and Jenna didn't have sleepovers all the time anyways, and both me and Drew loved having her over. She even met my Mom and my two other little siblings, Ryan and Lauren. The three of them immediately took to her the way I did, entranced by her presence. She loved hanging out with them too, since she was an only child.

There was something about Jenna that somehow attracted people to her. Maybe it was her welcoming presence, the way she made you feel like the most important person in the world with the way she looked at you, or perhaps it was something appealing about her appearance. The small makeup she put on and the way she spent extra time styling her hair was always unnecessary in my opinion, I always thought she was the prettiest person in our grade.

Sometimes I wondered if the two of us were truly best friends. I know friends hang out a bunch like we do, they don't mind changing in the same room or even in front of each other, and they definitely feel comfortable enough to cuddle together in bed or while watching a movie. Right?

But sometimes I swear there's a weird fluttering in my stomach when Jenna's bare legs drape over mine on the couch, or sometimes my heart skips a beat when we're getting ready for bed and she just pauses while changing her shirt, intent on continuing our conversation even while standing in just her bra.

But it's okay for friends to do that right? I mean, I've only ever had crushes or thought boys were attractive, so everything I'm feeling is probably just from the fact that I've never had a best friend like Jenna. Sure, I've had a bunch of friends and teammates I'm really close to, but me and Jenna spend all of our time together, and there's almost nothing we wouldn't do together. Sometimes, we just take turns showering while the other person stays in the bathroom just so we can keep talking.

Which led the two of us up to now, spending spring break sprawled out on my bed at 9pm, arguing about whether waffles or pancakes were better. We never had any real arguments, but with me and Jenna both being super competitive and never wanting to be wrong, we always had long discussions "fighting" about meaningless topics.

"Pancakes are so much smoother and like, enjoyable to eat compared to waffles, plus waffles end up crispy at the edges and they just end up tasting weird," She insisted, adjusting herself from her back to her side so she could argue with me face to face.

Her hair fell over her shoulder when she moved, leaving her shoulder exposed as her, no, my sweatshirt had slightly slouched down as it was big on her. Jenna wasn't exactly short, she was around 5'5, it's just that I happened to be even taller.

"Girls, come down for dinner please," my step-mom yelled from downstairs before I could even snap out of my distracted state to argue back.

"Coming Mrs. Bueckers," Jenna took the initiative to yell back slightly when I didn't respond in time, still in shock as to why I ended up staring at my best friend, distracted by her bare shoulder in my clothes. Me and Jenna always shared clothes, we even kept clothing and toiletry spares in each others rooms for spontaneous sleepovers. So why was her wearing my sweatshirt, in my bed, so different this time?

Whatever the reason was, I didn't have time to even think it over before Jenna got up from next to me, grabbing my hands with hers so she could yank me up as well, complaining that she was hungry. She kept our hands interlocked as we left my room, walking down the stairs hurridley. It was a miracle she didn't notice that for some reason, her soft, warm hands in mine had left a barely noticeable blush on my cheeks.

October 28th, 2017 (sophomore year; 16 years old)

Jenna's POV:

"Come on J hurry up, it's just a stupid party," Paige walked into your bathroom as you were almost finished curling your hair. "I'm on my last section P chill, I'll be done in a minute," you reassured her reflection. The two of you were invited to a Halloween party, but apparently you weren't supposed to dress up since technically it's not Halloween yet? (skinny jeans were the shit in 2017 but I can't bring myself to write that that's what they're wearing 😔)

You were both confused about it but the junior who invited you guys, Alexa, was one of your friends from math class. You were sat together on the first day and despite both of you struggling here and there, you often got the concepts a little bit quicker than her, so you always helped her when possible. And in return, she got the two of you an invite, well technically she invited you but everyone knows you and Paige are a package deal, to one of the biggest house parties of the school year.

It was also going to be the first party you were ever going to, and you both agreed to not go overboard on the drinks, since your aunt cristina, who was visiting, was going to pick and drop you in her car. Your mom's sister couldn't have chosen a better time to come visit, as both of your parents were working the night shift tonight and Paige's parents allowed her to sleepover at your house since your aunt was supposed to "supervise".

"See, I'm ready, let's go," you told Paige as you finished your hair with a thin layer of hairspray, moving past her into your room to grab your phone and keys. Your parents had gotten you a used Ford F-150 truck (so gay) so it would be easier for you to drive to school, with Paige of course, since they both started working longer hours now that you were old enough to take care of yourself and so that they could retire earlier.

You both made your way downstairs to your Aunt Cristina on the couch, watching tv while waiting for you to finish getting ready. "Ready to hit the road girls?" She got up to turn off the tv and grab her things from around the living room.

"Yup, thank you again for taking us, and for not telling our parents," Paige responded on your behalf as well. It was typical of adults to love Paige, she was always the most respectful and responsible kid in their eyes, even when thanking your aunt for driving you to a party so you could drink responsibly.

"No problem, I'd rather you girls be safe while having fun, no point in sneaking out if I'm here for you," She joked as you moved to get in her car, and within ten minutes, the three of you were pulled up outside the address Alexa had given you.

"Now please just remember to be safe, have fun, drink responsibly, don't leave your drinks unattended, don't try drinks from random people, keep your phone on you, don't leave each other's side," Your aunt was rambling off safety rules to the two of you in the backseat. You thought it was ironic she had to mention for you to stay together as if you ever left each other's side anyways.

"Yes Auntie C of course," You promised her as you moved to open the car door, "We'll be safe and I'll text you, love you, thanks, bye!" You closed the door the second Paige climbed out from the backseat, eager to walk into the house you could hear music blaring out of.

Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting pressed up together on a couch in a crowded living room, two red solo cups in hand with sprite and vodka. You and Paige were tipsy from the past two hours of drinking, a warm fuzziness settled into our brains, making the circle of people around us funnier than they probably were.

"No you know what we should play, seven minutes in heaven!" A drunk junior called out mid-conversation. You weren't really absorbing anything that was being said around you until that, and the loud cheers that erupted from the living room at the suggestion.

"Everybody gather around in a circle on the floor, whoever spins it has to go in the guest bedroom with the person it lands on for seven minutes," Alexa called out to everyone as she reached for an empty beer bottle behind her, before moving to sit on the floor.

"D'you wanna play?" Paige asked quietly next to you. You could tell she was hesitant on joining, and would only sit down if you went with her or dragged her with you.

"Why not, what are the chances we get picked anyways?" You decided, downing the last sip of your drink before setting it down on the floor, pulling Paige off the couch with you and into the circle.

"Before we start," Alexa loudly interrupted the conversation of the circle as she placed the beer bottle in the middle, causing everyone to quiet down and listen to her. "If you get picked to go in the room, you do not, and I repeat do not, have to do anything. The room stays unlocked the whole time, and you can't force the other person to do anything, even kiss," She insisted, making eye contact with every person in the circle before sitting back down in her spot.

"Agreed?" She asked everyone, and only allowed the game to start after hearing a response from everyone.

The game started and by the fourth round, everyone except one couple had clearly used the seven minutes to their advantage, coming out with tousled hair, bruised lips, and one girl even came out with a visibly red hickey on her neck. You and Paige had yet to be picked, and you felt a sense of relief that the two of you got to participate without having to actually play the game.

But, you suppose you must have spoken (or thought) too soon though, as you watched the next guy spin the bottle, and it slowed to a stop, the neck pointing right at you. Encouragements and cheers burst from the circle, urging the two of us to go in the room. You recognized who he was from around campus and his games, a junior volleyball player.

He got up from his seat, walking across the circle to you, and offering his hand to pull you up. You looked over hesitantly at Paige, who was barely meeting your eyes and had a small, tight-lipped smile on her face. Ignoring her reaction, you took his hand in yours and allowed him to hoist you up, dropping it the moment you stood in front of him.

You walked into the room first, sitting on the desk pushed up against the wall as he closed the door behind him and walked up to you, leaving a foot of space in between you two, presumably waiting for you to give him some sort of indicator.

"I'm sorry, I hope you don't really mind but I wasn't really planning on getting picked and I'm not comfortable, like, kissing you or anything so if you want to pick someone else I get it, I just don't want to," the nervous ramble poured out of you without constraint, the alcohol you had consumed making you more open-lipped than normal.

"Hey it's cool, you heard Alexa, you don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he shrugged, moving to take a seat on the edge of the queen bed in the room.

"Oh, thank you, I guess. I didn't think you would be so cool about your turn being wasted," You settled on top of the desk properly, turning to face the boy who was surprisingly chill.

"Nah it's whatever, I just broke up with my girlfriend like a month ago too, so I don't really care. I'm Jeremy by the way," he introduced, bringing one foot off the floor to rest over his other knee, leaning slightly back onto the bed.

"I'm Jenna, this is my first party so I wasn't really sure how all of this was gonna go."

"Jenna, I swear I've heard your name before," he paused, thinking for a moment. "Ohh, you’re the one who's friends with the basketball girl, Paige something right?" He suddenly remembered.

"Yeah I came with her tonight, she's my best friend," You smiled, talking about Paige was one of the easiest things in the world for you. You knew everything about her, inside and out, and majority of people knew you through her, since her athleticism made her quite popular around school. You never minded being known as Paige's best friend though, you knew you had your own identity and Paige always reminded anyone who referred to you as that, but there was a certain comfort that your friendship was strong enough for even a stranger to know that about you.

You and Jeremy continued small talking about school and a little bit about his ex-girlfriend before a knock rang out from the door, signaling that your time was up. He got up before you and held the door open as you walked out, instantly being bombarded with excited whoops and teasing "oooo's" as you walked to join the circle again.

"We didn't even do anything, guys" Jeremy emphasized to the circle, attempting to calm the rambunctious circle.

"Then why is she red as a tomato? The girl couldn't be blushing harder if she tried," a random girl in the circle yelled out, revving up the groups fever.

"She's like sixteen, chill out. Besides it's probably cause all of you," Jeremy backed you up as you walked over to your previous seat, but before you sat back down, you realized Paige was no longer there.

"Where did Paige go?" You asked the group before the next person could spin the bottle, causing eyes to shoot up at you.

"She went to the kitchen for a refill, so probably still there," Alexa informed you. You nodded at her before walking away, searching for your missing best friend.

You didn't have to look for long before you found her taking a shot in the kitchen with two other random girls, her face souring heavily at the alcoholic taste. You knew Paige hated the taste of alcohol and was never one to submit to peer-pressure, so why was she taking a shot of tequila with strangers?

"Hey P," you walked up to her, resting your hand on her bicep to draw her attention to you.

"Hey J," she responded dryly, but her voice was slightly slurred, moving her arm out of your hold to swap out the shot class for a full solo cup you could only pray she filled herself.

"You wanna leave soon? It's already like one ish?"

"Sure, whatever," she took a long sip from her cup, downing half of whatever she had poured in it.

"Okay, we can wait outside, let the cold air sober us up a bit before Auntie C gets here," you gently pried the red plastic cup out of her hand before grabbing her hand and leading her out to the living room, saying bye to the small amount of friends you knew before walking outside.

The two of you settled onto the edge of the curb at the ending curve of the sidewalk, just far enough from the house to get a little quiet. The stuffed house had been slightly humid, and the light breeze was a refreshing contrast to your previous environment.

"How was it?" Paige's question broke the quiet but tension-filled bubble the two of you had formed.

"How was what?"

"Your seven minutes in heaven," Paige drunkenly mocked.

"P, we didn't do anything. Like, anything anything," you were confused at her attitude, did she know something about Jeremy, or dislike him for some reason?

"You, you didn't kiss him?" The shock was apparent on her face. "The second you left everyone was talking about Jeremy and Jenna kissing in a tree, it was really annoying," she grumbled, you concluded that the alcohol she had consumed must be what was making her weird.

"No way P, I don't want my first kiss to be like that. Forced and with someone I don't even know, let alone like," you scooched closer into her, resting your head on her shoulder.

You awaited a response from her but never get one, she simply leaned her head on top of yours as you waited in a comfortable silence for your ride, which came quickly.

*small time skip*

You had just finished your short skincare routine and were finally ready to climb into bed with Paige, the long night had taken its toll on you, and you were ready to collapse into the warm embrace of your best friend. But tonight, when you laid down next to her in bed, she didn't immediately cuddle into you like she always did, remaining flat on her back, staring at your ceiling.

Instead, she turned over to face you, only a few inches of space were left in between your faces as she whispered to you, "Why didn't you kiss him?"

Her question shocked you. The two of you rarely visited the topic of romantic relationships or feelings of the sort, and both of you agreed that you weren't interested in the thought as of right now.

"I," you paused. You had never officially come out to Paige, afraid that once she knew you liked girls, your every move would be scrutinized and judged, and your relationship would never be the same. But surely, you insisted internally, Paige wasn't going to be like that.

"I wasn't really interested in the thought of kissing a guy," You quietly admitted, rolling back over onto your back to avoid her gaze.

"Oh." That was it? You basically just came out to her and that's all you got?

"Would you ever kiss a guy? Or just," she paused, the hesitation clear in her voice. "Just girls?"

"No I would kiss both, I just don't think I want my first kiss to be with one? Or at least not Jeremy," you confessed quietly, turning your head back over to look at her. She was staring intently at you, scanning your face.

"Who would you want your first kiss to be with?"

"I don't know, but at least with someone I'm close to. Have you ever," you waited a moment before finishing your sentence, taking a deep breath in between your words.

"Have you ever thought about kissing girls? Or a girl?" You whispered, watching her slightly panicked reaction.

"A few times, but I've never kissed anyone either, so I don't know," Her eyes darted in between your eyes and down to your lips. "What if you kiss me? Just so we can both have our first kisses with someone we know," in retrospect, you should've thought harder before agreeing to kiss your previously assumed straight best friend. But her offer set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks flushed deeply as you nodded.

You shuffled closer to her in bed, such that there was barely an inch of space separating your lips. "Are you sure about this?" You whispered, staring down at her lips while reaching your hand to cup her jaw, the other arm bent at the elbow to support your body above hers.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at your own lips, slightly moving in until your lips grazed against hers. You pressed your lips a little firmer into hers, slanting your head further as your lips barely opened. She moved in tandem with you, her hand resting at the nape of your neck as she kissed you back.

Your kiss only lasted a few moments, pulling back the second you registered the taste of alcohol still prominent in her mouth. You realized it was possible that the only reason your best friend asked you to kiss her was because she was drunk, sixteen, and very single.

"This isn't gonna be weird tomorrow is it?" Your brows furrowed as a worried expression settled into your face.

"No, why would it? Friends can kiss, besides we just won't make it weird," she promised. And despite knowing it was a stupid idea, an even stupider statement, you agreed. Collapsing down back onto your pillow, you opened your arms for Paige to snuggle into you, and the two of you drifted into a peaceful slumber.

February 3rd, 2018 (sophomore year; 16 years old)

Paige's POV:

It was a relief to finally find a quiet moment to myself, even if it was at three in the morning in the middle of my living room couch. Everyone in my house was asleep, including Jenna, who was still snoring when I extracted myself from her arms. The ac vent aimed straight at me caused me to pull the blanket tighter into my body, despite the pajama pants I was wearing and one of Jenna's hoodies.

We were almost done with basketball season and were currently playing our conference games, and were thankfully on a streak. And yet, the pressure inside of me continued to build, the need to be perfect and to support and carry my team throughout our games constantly weighing down on me.

Of course my teammates, coaches, family, and my other friends were supportive of me and encouraged me to try my best, and that no one expected perfection of me. But for whatever reason, I couldn't get rid of the anxiety that was constantly taking over my brain, sending me into spiraling panics over my future and my performance.

But throughout the past few months, the only person I felt like I could truly breathe around was Jenna, my lifeline. Despite not being involved in basketball in any way, she understood me and what I was feeling. She confided in me about her having chronic anxiety (GAD) the first time I slept over at her house, when I saw her medication on the dinner table.

She taught me breathing exercises and calming methods, held and comforted me when I cried in the middle of the night from the constant mental pressure, and even told me that I should slide around my initial charm on our matching necklace since it was a better nervous habit than biting my nails.

Even besides that, her presence in itself was a comfort to me, even if I wasn't yet sure of how deep my feelings for her went. She was the first friend I ever said "I love you" too, and I think the same goes for her. And it is true, I do love her with my whole heart, I would do anything she asked or needed of me, I just wasn't sure to what extent this love went.

Along with that, I was still unsure of where I stood with my sexuality. Before Jenna, I never thought about girls in a more than platonic way, but from the first few months of getting to know her, to our first kiss together (still the only time I've ever kissed anybody), to even now, where she was cuddled into my chest a mere thirty minutes ago, I felt electrifying sparks course through my body at her touch, she could make me blush with the most innocent of looks, and she made me giddy in a way even basketball didn't.

But despite all that, it's normal for best friends to love each other? It doesn't automatically mean being gay or being in love, you could just deeply care for the other person. Besides, Jenna never brought up the kiss again, which meant it had probably only happened due to both of our inebriated states.

It was as if my deep train of thought about her cause her to miraculously appear, I knew it was her just from the footsteps upstairs, the way she gently walked down the stairs to avoid a creaky step, and the way her sock-covered feet padded over to the couch, grabbing a throw blanket for herself before taking a seat in the corner end of the couch next as me.

We sat in silence as she reached over to the side of the couch, pushing the button to recline the seat back, unfolding the blanket and covering her bottom half before patting her lap for me once she was fully adjusted.

I all but threw my head into her lap, facing her body, as I extended my legs out onto the rest of the sofa as I moved my arms up hug the tops of her legs as her hands came up to gently scratch at my scalp, playing with my hair in a way that immediately relaxed me into her.

"M'sorry if I woke you," I whispered into her stomach, even though I wasn't actually sorry. I was selfishly happy that she came downstairs for me and would give up anything for us to have more of these quiet moments together, her attention solely focused on me.

"S'okay P, you technically didn't. I felt the bed was empty and then my spidey senses told me you were thinking too hard again, so I came to convince you to come back to bed, but then this beautiful couch looked way too comfortable, so we can just spend the night here," she sleepily mumbled, looking down at me sprawled out onto her lap.

"Tell me who or what is stealing our sleep so I can beat their asses," she joked quietly, her hands coming to rub at my temples.

I sighed, it felt as if her hands were physically melting the pounding in my skull, my headache nearly subsiding just from her touch.

"Just stressed out about everything again y'know? Basketball, school, life, kind of everything," I admitted quietly. The one thing I hated doing, was talking about things that bothered or upset me, it always made me feel weak.

"Hey, we are all so proud of you P. We all know how hard you're working and even though you feel like it, I promise that it's not all up to you. All the people around you love you, and we're all here to help if you need it. You just say the word and we'll all line up for whatever you need," she reassured me, only slightly teasing as her fingers moved to pinch my cheek lightly before moving back to my hair.

"Yeah I know, God really blessed me with you guys. Especially you, I don't know what I would do without you," I murmured up at her, smiling at her sleepy but happy expression.

"Yeah yeah, just say you love me Paige," she poked fun at me quietly, letting her head drop onto the cushion behind her without breaking eye contact with me.

"Hey I do love you J, I say it all the time," I retorted, using my fingers to draw small shapes on her pajama-covered thighs.

"Well I love you too P," her hands smoothed over my hair as she bent down to press a kiss on my hairline before reaching back up to settle into the couch.

"Just trust me, you just need to do all you can so God can do all you can't," she muttered, closing her eyes as she leaned her head slightly onto her shoulder to get comfortable, all without stilling her hands' movements in my scalp.

"Hey that's a sick quote, I'm stealing that from you for my interviews," I teased groggily, the lack of sleep slowly overcoming my voice.

"You can have anything you want from me P, you already know that," she didn't open her eyes when she said that, but I could hear the sincerity in her tone even without looking at her.

The two of us slept the whole night in the exact same position, unaware of everyone waking up to us cuddling on the couch together. My eyes only fluttered open at the sound of quieted laughter and the shuttering of two cameras pointed at the two of us.

As I rolled my head out of Jenna's lap to look at whoever had caused the disturbance, I squinted my eyes to see my dad with his polaroid and Drew using someone's phone. I groaned, burying myself back into Jenna, I probably would never hear the end of this, but it was alright, because it was with Jenna.

July 4th, 2018 (summer before junior year; 16 years old)

Jenna's POV:

"Jenna you need to slow down, I don't want you to throw up or anything," Paige insisted as she walked up to you, pulling you away from the living room of the house party you were in, preventing you from throwing back another shot. The party was hosted by a senior at the end of your neighborhood, just walking distance from both of your houses.

"What's your problem P, I'm just having fun," you argued back, doing your best to enunciate your words to prevent having a slur, knowing she would cut you off immediately if you got too drunk. You were pretty good at holding your liquor, somehow being a natural heavy-weight when it came to drinking.

"Come on Paigey, just lighten up a little, it's the fourth of fucking July, have fun with me. Ooo, we should do a shot together," you elbowed her side jokingly, looking up at her hesitant expression with your best puppy dog eyes.

Her concerned expression softened, you knew it was wrong of you to take advantage of the fact she could never say no to you, but she was the reason you were adamant on drinking to the point of memory loss tonight.

As shameful as it felt to admit it, your best friend had been haunting your every waking moment for the last few months, and you were desperate for an escape from your own thoughts. You always knew you felt something deeper than friendship for Paige, the way your heartbeat would speed up at every touch of her hands, the way you found yourself unable to tear your eyes off of her, on and off the court, and especially, the way you could not escape the mental replay of your kiss.

The press of her soft lips against yours, the slight vanilla taste from her chapstick you so often borrowed, the way the skin of her jaw felt so soft in the palm of your hand, and the way your body melted into hers, pressed against her warm figure.

So, like any reasonable sixteen year old, you were determined to get absolutely shit-faced tonight, to the point where you wouldn't even be able to remember your own name. And the only way that would happen, is if Paige stopped monitoring your every sip of alcohol.

"Okay fine, one shot, but that's it. We can't both be super drunk," She relented, allowing you to pull her back into the kitchen to pour yourself shots.

And just to your luck, Paige had run into a few friends and teammates, leaving you alone with a few class friends for what she intended to be only a few minutes, but ended up being a little over half an hour. Those thirty ish minutes were all you needed to take two more shots, chug one whiteclaw and two beers, and finish a cup of a vodka sprite.

By the time Paige came back, still mostly sober, she was pissed to see that you were plastered, hanging off the shoulder of some guy she could recognize, but was too mad to focus on. She couldn't figure out why you were drinking so much tonight, despite her warning, you were practically making yourself sick for the next day, and you wouldn't even tell her the reason you had been off lately, brushing it off with some bullshitted excuse of school or your parents.

"Yo, who's the blonde chick staring at you?" The random guy you were talking to asked, nodding his head towards Paige, who was leaned against one of the kitchen counters and boring holes into the guy's head.

"Paigeyyy," you called out, lifting your now very heavy head from his shoulder as he pointed out your best friend who was now within eyeline, a deeply annoyed expression settled into her otherwise soft features.

"Hey me and Jenna are gonna head out, it's already past two and she's clearly done drinking for tonight," Paige announced to the group of friends you were hanging out with as she moved towards you, gently guiding your arm over shoulder and pulling you away from the other guy.

"Hey she's fine," the guy you were previously all over slightly slurred, "What are you her babysitter or somethin?"

"Dude worry about yourself, you look like you’re two seconds away from passing out," she snapped at him before walking away, supporting around half of your weight as the two of you exited the house.

"You're always so good to me Paigey, always my taking care of me," you drunkenly mumbled into her shoulder, pressing yourself further into her in an attempt to warm yourself up with her body heat. The summer night in Minnesota wasn't too bad, but your lack of a jacket wasn't helping.

"We'll reach your house in like five minutes, you just gotta walk till there okay?" She spoke firmly, avoiding glancing down at your slouched figure attached to her.

"You're always my best girl," you continued your drunken ramble.

"Always there fo' me, you cuddle me and you kiss me, and you even walk me home," for some selfish reason, she didn't have it in her to stop you. She knew it wasn't fair to you, letting you pour your innermost thoughts or feelings out to her when you weren't in the right state of mind, but she couldn't bear to stop the compliments gushing from your mouth.

"No need to date anyone in the whole wide world when I have you. You're so much nicer than the other girls. Or boys. And prettier. You're the prettiest out of all of them. So pretty, even when you're all sweaty and gross in basketball. You even kiss nice, don't wanna kiss anyone else after you kissed me," she finally cut your mindless babble into her neck off.

"We're here, I need your keys," her voice was curt, almost like she didn't want to be with you anymore. You lifted your head out of the crook of her neck to fumble around the pockets of your jeans, finally pulling out your lanyard and holding it out for her.

She took it from your grasp quickly, unlocking your house and helping you in to take both of your shoes off and lead you up into your bathroom, sitting you on the closed toilet as she went into your room to grab a change of clothes for you.

You leaned your head back in the two minutes she had left, closing your eyes and barely drifting off when she re-entered the bathroom, waking you up so she could help you change and take off your makeup.

It wasn't until you were sitting against the headboard of your bed, watching her move around your room to collect stray clothes from the floor into your hamper that the two of you finally spoke again.

"Paigey are you mad at me?" the nickname slipped from your mouth once again as you questioned her quietly. Paigey was something that usually only Drew called her regularly, but for some reason it was the only thing you referred to her as when drunk.

"Yes Jenna, is that what you wanna hear? That I'm fucking pissed off at you? You've been acting weird for the last like, two months. And no matter how much I try, you won't open up to me, it's frustrating me," she exclaimed pausing her movements around the room to rant to you despite her better judgement telling her she shouldn't talk to you about this while you're drunk.

"And then tonight you're all over some random douche, pretending like everything is fine when you know it's not. Then you start spewing that bullshit about me I know you don't mean because you're drunk."

You stayed silent for a few moments before you responded, "'M sorry, I shouldn't have shut you out for something you didn't do. But saying I don't mean what I said? That's not fair and you know it."

"Stop it Jenna, I think that you should just go to sleep. You're so drunk, you're not even coherent anymore, and I don't want to have this conversation with you like this,"

"What if I just wanna tell you how pretty you are, or how nice you kiss? Or that I love-"

"Stop Jenna, please just stop," Paige shut her eyes, her voice sounding nearly painful.

"Please J, you're drunk and you don't mean it. You can't say things like that and not mean it to me, I can't take it," she begged.

"If I say it to you tomorrow will you believe me?" you whispered, hesitating before continuing.

"If I tell you I love you tomorrow, will you say it back? Will you mean it the same way I mean it?" you pleaded with her, desperate to hear that she felt the same way you did, that you weren’t the only idiot who had fallen in love with her best friend.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch," she muttered, walking out of your room and closing the door behind her. You could feel your heart sinking, the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to pour out at the smallest movement.

You stare at the door for a few minutes, praying that Paige would change her mind, burst back in and say that she did love you too, that you weren’t alone. She would pull you into her, kiss you stupid, and cuddle you for the rest of the night.

But she didn't and you eventually cried yourself into an uncomfortable sleep, tossing and turning the whole night.

***the next morning***

Your eyes fluttered open from the sunlight beaming through my half-closed curtains. Your head was pounding, threatening to split in half as you turned over, burying yourself into the pillow underneath your comforter.

You tried my best to recall what had happened last night that left you nearly dead the next morning. As you fought to focus despite a dry throat, aching body, and throbbing head, a specific moment came pouring back.

There was no fucking way.

You told Paige, presumably straight Paige, your best friend ever Paige, that you loved her. You had gone on a whole fucking tangent about how pretty she was, how nobody could compare, and the fact that you loved her.

You shot up in bed, fighting every painful twinge in your body to reach for your phone, when you saw a water bottle with two advils on your nightstand. You quickly chugged them as you reached for your phone, unplugging it from the charger. That was something you had most definitely not remembered to do last night.

At 7:21 in the morning there was only one text from Paige.

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Peanut Butter 💜: Hey, my step-mom called me over to help her clean some stuff up. You went pretty hard last night so I left some water and painkillers for you, make sure you take them and eat breakfast. I'll see you later yeah?

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Fuck, did she not remember what had happened last night? No, that wasn't possible, she barely drank. Did she want to pretend like it never happened? Was it because she didn't feel the same about you? As it was, she didn't allow you to finish saying you were in love with her, and it wasn't like she said it back. Was she trying to avoid ruining your friendship?

She had texted you almost three hours ago, which meant your parents had to already be back from their night shift and everyone in her house was probably awake.

You threw your phone out onto your bed, slamming yourself back down and under your covers.

What were your options here? Either pretend like it never happened and continue hopelessly pining after your best friend, confess your feelings only to get rejected and ruin your friendship, or the least likely of them all.

You told her and she felt the same.

You thought long and hard about what to do. As much as it would hurt to only be something, continuing to hide your feelings, it would be worse to be nothing to her, right?

But if it had slipped out of you once, wasn't there the chance it could happen again? What if it was even worse the next time, what if it was in public and everyone ended up finding out.

It would be better to own up to the truth now, right? Right? Right, you decided.

You finally mustered up the courage to leave the safe haven of your bed. dragging yourself to the bathroom to freshen up (ESPECIALLY BRUSHING YOUR TEETH) before quietly exiting your house, walking across the street to hers.

You knocked on the door firmly, knowing the Bueckers weren't the biggest fans of using the doorbell.

"Jenna," Drew exclaimed as he opened the door for you, allowing you into the house you had quickly claimed as your second home.

"What's up little man," you greeted him while taking off your slippers, "Where's your sister?" You asked him.

You had made it a habit to call Paige, Drew's sister, when talking to him. You felt bad that people always mentioned him as Paige's little brother instead of taking two seconds to learn his name, so you always made the effort to make sure he felt seen.

"She's in her room, she said she was feeling weird when she came home and she won't leave her room," he told you.

Shit, that meant she did remember what had happened. Well, it was now or never.

"Thanks Drew, Hi Mrs. Bueckers," you waved to her in the kitchen as you made your way to the stairs, bounding up two at a time to reach Paige's room faster. Her door was shut when you reached, and you knocked lightly on the wood.

"Hey P, it's me," you called out through the closed door, waiting to hear her mumbled, come in, before turning the knob. She was laying down in her bed, putting her phone down as she looked up at you.

"How you feeling Jelly? You drank a lot last night," she asked quietly, her hands fiddling with the top of her comforter, something you knew she did when she was nervous.

"Not that bad," you moved to sit down next to her lying figure, gazing down at her exhausted face. You could tell she hadn't slept well last night either, surely from your intoxicated confession.

"Listen, I know I was really stupid last night, but what we were talking about in my room," Paige cut you off before you could finish.

"Hey it's fine, I get it. You were really drunk and you get kind of emotional at that stage, so it's not even a big deal-"

"Oh my god Paige will you let me even speak? I meant what I said last night," you interrupted. There was no way you would allow her to brush this under the rug the same way you let her pretend your kiss had never happened.

"You're not just my best friend, you're my everything. You mean the literal world to me, there's barely anything I wouldn't do for you, because I'm in love with you. I have been for a reallly really long time now, that's why I was trying to keep my distance. It hurt, being around you and pretending like my heart wasn't going to explode at nearly everything you said or did with me," you professed, watching her expression morph from faked nonchalance to shock, and slowly, a small smile broke out.

"You, you love me love me? Like, you're in love with me? In a more than friends way?" She sat up to face you fully as she questioned you, tucking her bottom lip into her mouth as she waited for your response.

"No shit Sherlock Holmes, it's almost like I said it like four times now, and you're still not-" she didn't let you finish your exasperated sentence before pulling you into her, pressing your lips firmly into hers.

You closed your eyes as you sighed into the minty kiss, melting into her hold as she moved her lips against you slowly, the rest of the world faded away as the two of you found peace in each other's embrace.

"You know you still haven't told me you love me back," you mumbled against her lips as the two of you separated a minute later, a wide grin stretched out across your face.

"No shit I love you too Sherlock Holmes," she teased, using the nickname you had come up with against you. "Have been for a while now, glad you finally noticed," she pulled you into her as she flopped down to lie down on her side, facing you.

The two of you continued to exchange light pecks and languid kisses, reveling in the comfort of your intertwined bodies in Paige's warm bed.

"Does this mean we're dating?" Paige pulled back to watch your face as she asked.

"Yeah P, this means you're my girlfriend now. Just mine, kay?" You beamed, caressing her cheek with your thumb.

"Got it, as long as you're only mine J."

December 23rd, 2019 (Winter Break, senior year; 18 years old)

Paige’s POV:

"I have no idea what that's supposed to mean," Jenna giggled at my response, her laughter rumbling her body against mine. She was currently sprawled over my body in tiny pajama shorts and a cropped tank top, her head laying on my chest as she wrote random words onto my left arm for me to guess, my other hand wrapped tightly over her waist, eliminating any space that may have been between us.

Jenna had finally finished all of her college applications and we both took our winter finals two weeks prior, leaving us to peacefully enjoy our Christmas and New Years together.

We had already been dating for over a year now, and if I wasn't completely and irrevocably head over heels for Jenna Smyths before, I most definitely was now. The two of us were already inseparable even before we started dating, but since last July it was almost like we couldn't spend go more than twenty-four hours apart, which our families had slowly started picking up on.

We never really told my family that we were dating, just slowly started leaving hints here and there. Spending more time together, being more cuddly or touchy with the other person (all pg of course), and we went to our most recent school dances together, as friends, but still.

Even at school or in public, we basically acted the same as we always did, and despite the rumors running rampant in the many gossip circles, no one had any evidence to prove any allegation, and when prompted, we always gave the same answer, "She's my best friend".

But with Jenna's family on the other hand, only her mom knew after a really awkward walking-in incident. It wasn't too bad, it just so happened that one night when I was sleeping over at her house in March, we were innocently making out in her bed, as any seventeen year-old couple did, when her mom walked in to tell us that we were going out for breakfast the next morning. We quickly separated, but not fast enough to evade her mom.

Needless to say, the two of us had to endure a very, very embarrassing conversation of being safe and responsible together, and the only reason she didn't rat us out to Jenna's dad or my family to stop our sleepovers was the fact that neither of us could get pregnant from anything we may or may not do.

Unfortunately, our "separation anxiety problem" proved to be quite the difficult challenge when I had to leave for the team USA basketball games and Jenna went on college tours with her parents. The two of us managed to get by through near constant texting and nightly FaceTime calls, which I've accepted may be the norm for our relationship in the future.

I already committed to UConn back in April, but Jenna still hasn't decided where she wants to go. She's applied sort of everywhere, California, Washington, Michigan, Minnesota, Pennsylvania, New York, and of course, Connecticut. She hasn't told me what her top pick is out of all of her applications, but I had a feeling she was refraining from telling me because it was going to be one of the furthest ones from UConn.

I didn't mind having to do long distance, as hard as it would be, I would take that struggle over losing Jenna any day. But there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that Jenna didn't agree, that she would rather break up than have to deal with long distance.

But that couldn't happen to us, we were Paige and Jenna, Peanut Butter and Jelly, and there was no way that we would break up because of college. I mean sure, we had real arguments every once in awhile, one of us got a little jealous, or we were tired or annoyed and accidentally took it out on the other person. But those never lasted long, both of us being too weak to remain mad at the other for more than a day.

One of the biggest arguments we had was over one of my newest and closest friends, Azzi Fudd. We met through team USA and got really close really quickly, which Jenna wasn't the fondest of. We never talked about her until I had gotten back, and Jenna finally burst when I paused our conversation to text Azzi back.

It wasn't until after I assured Jenna that Azzi was straight and was definitely not interested in me in anyway since she had a crush on a boy at her school, that she was my girlfriend and the only one I had eyes for, and she met Azzi in person for the first time that she understood just how platonic our friendship was and also formed a connection with the younger girl.

To be fair, Jenna wasn't the only one with slight jealousy issues, or as she called it, me being "territorial", which I wholeheartedly disagree with. I just think that some of the guys and girls she's friends with don't need to be all over her all the time, but Jenna was just a naturally affectionate person who made everyone around her feel loved and seen, and I understood that doesn't necessarily mean in a romantic way.

Which is all to say that despite any minor bumps in the road, our relationship was as steady and strong as ever, and there was no where else in the world I would rather be right now than in bed with Jenna's body covering mine.

"I wrote bball doofus, okay there's no way you don't get this next one," she remarked teasingly. I pinched her side as she stifled her laughter, adjusting herself over me before going to write her next phrase on my bicep. I was wearing a similar tank top to hers, but with warmer, full length pajama pants. Jenna always refused to admit when she was feeling cold, which was always, instead choosing to intertwine her legs with mine, absorbing any body heat radiating off of me.

I closed my eyes and focused on her fingers fluttering over my arm, concentrating on the words she attempted to spell out. It was a phrase so familiar to us at this point I had figured it out before she had even gotten to the last word.

I smiled down at her, watching as she moved her gaze from her writing to my face, a wide grin and blush present on her features.

"I love you," I whispered to her, admiring at the way her cheeks flushed deeper at my statement. She never used to be the type of person who got easily flustered or shied away from a challenge, but when it came down to the sweetest moments like this, her body was almost constantly some shade of red or pink.

Jenna wasn't the most openly affectionate person, she often got shy when it came to dates, romantic gesture, even verbally expressing her feelings. But by driving me around all the time when I didn't have my car or even my license, helping me with homework last minute, doing my hair for games, cooking and baking food for me, and remembering the smallest details about me, she showed me how much she loved me, and that was always enough for me.

"I love you too," she whispered back, resting her chin on my chest as she continued to gaze up at me, deep adoration present in her eyes, and without a doubt, I was sure I was looking back at her with either the same or deeper level of infatuation. I moved my hand around her waist to draw small circles on the sliver of skin that was exposed, relishing in the sweet intimacy.

Moments like this were my favorite, relishing in the presence of one of my favorite people on earth, quiet and at peace with no distractions, just the two of us enjoying our time spent together.

"Wait I wanna switch, it's your turn to be the big spoon," I patted her waist to guide her to flip over onto her back, so I could lay my head down on her this time.

One of the things I loved to do with Jenna was listen to her heartbeat, it was the beat of a song I would never know the name of, but it was my favorite. To me, it proved the tangibility of the connection between our souls, the love we held for each other. It was listening to the sound that kept my life force breathing, that allowed me to keep my rock and anchor, the person I loved the most and showed me that everyday was worth living, no matter what, because it was with her.

May 22nd, 2020 (End of Senior Year; 18 years old)

My heart sank at the silence I received from Paige, she was sitting across from me on my bed and kept switching from quietly scanning over the letter on my computer screen to changing the tabs, looking over all the schools I had received acceptance letters from.

Despite getting into UConn with Paige, and even universities close to her on the East Coast, like NYU and UPenn, I was choosing to commit to UCLA, my dream school since I was seven. It was safe to say Paige wasn't thrilled with my decision, evident through her lack of a response.

"P? Please say something, literally anything," I begged, her silence was unsettling, and her face was stoic and near emotionless, which meant I had no idea of the thoughts running through her head right now.

"I don't even know what you want me to say. Or expect me to do," she paused before continuing, "I am so proud of you and everything you've done and accomplished to make it this far, but I feel so," she stopped, collecting her thoughts and emotions before continuing.

"I almost want to hate you for choosing to go so far, for choosing to leave me and be so far away from me when we both know this kind of long-distance won't work," her voice cracked, at the end of her sentence. Rather than continuing to talk, she raised the collar of her t-shirt to her eyes, tucking her head under to hide the tears that had begun to spill out.

You moved your laptop away so could close some of the distance between the two of you. You gently cupped her face, coaxing her to let go of her t-shirt so you could look directly in her eyes.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, but I can't not go Paige. I need to do this for myself and I know that if I don't go, or at least give it my best shot, I'll regret it for the rest of my life," her heartbroken expression was painful for you to watch, only making it harder for you to refrain from crying.

"If I asked you to even consider, not even coming to UConn with me but like, NYU or something, literally anywhere closer to make the long distance work, would you?" Her eyes bore into yours, searching for the answer she dreaded hearing.

You waited a moment to answer, not to think over your answer or consider her question, you already knew the answer. But to compose yourself, holding in the pain you felt from hurting the only person who would ever love you like this.

You dropped your hands from her face before responding, "No."

You could see, practically hear, her heart shatter at your response, not expecting you to be so cold and short with her. She was openly crying now, her voice now shaky and slightly higher-pitched.

"So all the times that you told me that you couldn't imagine living without me, that you needed me, that you felt like you could only breathe around me, that was all bullshit? Or you just, what, changed your mind?"

"I never lied to you about that Paige, all of those things are still true. But this is my dream, I obviously didn't go into this whole process expecting to get into one of the top universities in the nation. If I asked you the same thing right now, to give up UConn and accept one of the recruitment offers you got closer to UCLA, would you?"

"Don't turn this around on me and make me the selfish one right now. That's not fair and you know it Jenna. Getting recruited is different, it determines whether or not I can go pro in the future, it makes all the difference in the world when it comes time for me to get drafted in the W."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything Paige, I'm just trying to make you understand that I can't give up UCLA. And selfish, really? Trying to make a life for myself, going to the college of my dreams, that's selfish?"

"That's not what I meant," she sighed, rubbing her hands over her tear-streaked face.

"You have to understand what it feels like to be in my position right now. You're my everything, my best friend, my girlfriend, the one person who knows me better than anyone, even my parents. And you just dropped a bomb of information on me. From day one, I have always been clear about where I wanted to go to college, and I signed as soon as I got the offer. But you never said anything about that, and on top of it, you were always the one who talked about our future together, and now it's like you're taking all of your previous statement back."

"I'm sorry Paige. I'm so sorry that I'm doing this to you, that I'm hurting you. That was never my intention with this. You're my everything too, but that's not right and that's not how it should be. One person can't be my whole life, and I can't be yours either. No matter how much I love you and need you, I also need this for myself."

Paige's eyes were bloodshot at this point, and you hadn't noticed when, but somewhere during your conversation you had given up on trying to hold back your own tears.

"I've already submitted a housing application, the apartments open from June but usually students don't go until July or August, so I'll still be here for a little while," you sniffled.

As much as your decision hurt Paige, you knew it was the right thing for both of you. Paige had to focus on basketball and you needed to focus on school and your own future, and maybe the time apart would allow you to grow together rather than apart.

After all, isn't distance supposed to make the heart grow fonder?

a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, any and all support is greatly appreciated!!

[runninriot]

Backstage Romance (I Want It Bad)

written for @steddiesongfics

song: Backstage Romance (Moulin Rouge! The Musical) | rated: E | wc: 7.018 | tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson, Manager Steve Harrington, Famous Corroded Coffin, secret hookups, dom/sub undertones, angst, smut, ambiguous/open ending | complete fic on ao3

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Eddie is buzzing, high on adrenaline like always when they’re playing a show. He’s still not used to this, it’s still something he can’t quite wrap his head around – to watch people dance and sing along to their songs, to hear their roaring applause and deafening whistles, to know they’re here for them.

It’s electrifying.

A fucking dream.

They’re still considered newcomers but Corroded Coffin are finally climbing their way out of the gutter; they’re making it, step by step, and one day not too far in the future, they’ll be on top.

It’s all Eddie ever wanted, all he and his best friends have always fantasized about back when they were still a bunch of loser kids dreaming of becoming rockstars while terrorising Gareth’s poor parents (and the whole neighbourhood, really) with the horrible noise coming from their garage.

The dream is reality now, success not only a possibility but a fact. It would be poison for Eddie's already too big ego but thankfully, there's always someone bringing him back down to earth when he gets carried away.

They’ve got a label now, signed record deal and all and-

   “Great show, guys! The people seemed to really love the new song.”

Yeah, and that. They’ve got a manager now, too.

Steve Harrington.

The guy whose appearance makes him stick out like a sore thumb from the sea of blacks and greys and dark reds around him. The guy who doesn’t look the part but actually likes what they do. The guy who doesn’t give two fucks about what others think of him because he’s not here to make friends, he’s here to do his job. And he’s pretty good at that.

Good at a lot of things.

At first, Eddie hated the idea of having a fucking babysitter on tour with them. Someone to watch their every move, someone to keep them out of trouble (where’s the fun in that?), to make sure they don’t fuck up their reputation. Someone to handle all their business affairs for them, as if they couldn’t take care of it themselves.

Now, Eddie’s actually glad they have someone to deal with everything – from interview requests and setting up their tour schedule to negotiating their contracts and booking their gigs. Steve handles it all, allowing the band to enjoy the fruits of their labour without having to deal with the annoying parts of being in the music business.

And that should be all there is to it. Just a business relation based on what’s in the band’s best interest.

But it’s not.

Not behind the curtains, backstage, when no one is looking. Where, hidden in dark corners, Steve and Eddie share a secret.

A secret that could ruin it all.

Because it’s unprofessional, could get them both in trouble. Could get Steve fired, possibly. Maybe even put Eddie’s – if not the whole band’s – career on the line if the public ever found out about it.

But that just makes it even more thrilling.

Eddie has always been drawn to that, the forbidden, things that could cause irreparable damage. And throughout his life, he’s come to ask himself more than once if this is really worth it. If it’s worth risking it all just for giving in to his reckless impulses.

But the answer has always been the same. Now even more so than ever.

He knows it’s wrong, dangerous, a game he shouldn’t be playing because playing with fire will get him burned.

The problem is that he’s a sucker for the pain.

And being ruined by Steve Harrington is worth everything.

-----

continue reading here

[moonrise0111]

Karasuno on a plane

Headcanons

Daichi: is definitely a total pro at putting the bags in the overhead bin. If he sees anyone struggle for a millisecond, he's taking their bag and putting it up for them. He'd spend an hour ensuring all the bags were secure up there so nothing could possibly be damaged if the flight attendants didn't ask him to sit down.

Suga: is a perfect passenger for SURE. He has the utmost respect for the flight attendants and what they have to deal with, and he does his absolute best not to cause problems and to help alleviate any issues that may arise. He also doesn't mind or complain when annoying kids are on the flight. If there are any kids around him, he's definitely making silly faces and trying to entertain them as best he can to give their parent(s) a break.

Asahi: had a fear of flying since he was young, so he self-medicates and sleeps through the entire thing. He usually has to bring someone with him so they can wake him up after they land. He learned from that one time he flew by himself and ended up being woken up by a very concerned flight attendant who was afraid he died and in the commotion of him waking up, he spilled his water all over his pants. He’s still embarrassed from that day.

Nishinoya: is Asahi’s confirmed travel guide and personal alarm clock. He’s also a very light packer so he usually only has one bag for all of his things. Since Asahi is asleep for most of the flight he tries his best to entertain himself quietly (or as quietly as he’s going to get) for the bulk of the flight.

Tanaka: watches movies and laughs way too loud. I mean WAY too loud. He has to be asked to quiet down by the flight attendants. He also likes to play the mind numbing games that you can play on airplane mode. He’s on level 1467 of some sorting game.

Ennoshita: is extremely terrified of turbulence. He pays all of his attention to the safety demonstration and reads the safety booklet several times. He’s perfectly fine unless things get shaky.

Kinoshita: usually sleeps for most of the ride. The lull of the plane relaxes him and he’s out before the plane takes off. He doesn’t really bother anyone but his throat always hurts after he wakes up because he ends up breathing in a lot of dry air with his mouth open.

Narita: sits down with a good book and reads the entire flight. He’s read a 700 page book in one flight. Kinoshita was next to him and fell asleep around page 14 and woke up 650 pages later. He did it the first time because he forgot a bookmark. He regretted it after because he had nothing for the layover or the second flight.

Kageyama: is not very good with airport directions, so he usually barely makes the flight, if at all. He tries to be unproblematic and fails miserably. They never have any of the drinks he asks for and he simply cannot figure out how to work the small tv if he has one. He also hates when the vent is blowing on him and never remembers to download any music or movies to his phone. He also forgets his headphones.

Hinata: can NOT sit still. He’s the guy that is always walking up and down the aisle just to move his legs. The flight attendants have to keep asking him to sit down and he feels awful for inconveniencing them. He also talks to anyone willing throughout the flight. By the end of the flight he’s told at least three people his entire life story. He tries his best to figure out when people are done talking to him.

Tsukishima: spends about 70% of any flight he’s on trying his best to not throttle the small child that somehow ALWAYS ends up sitting next to him. The other 30% is him convincing himself that opening the doors and jumping off the plane just to avoid the screaming is a bad idea. He has his noise canceling headphones in at all times with music full blast but the wailing child never fails to break right through it. Murder is wrong Kei.

Yamaguchi: is the literal pro of airport snacks. His family is pretty well off so they went on far trips enough that Tadashi could determine where all the BEST snacks were in a bunch of airports. He always tries to get there early so he can bring snacks with him off the plane for his friends or family or whoever he’s visiting.

Yachi: somehow manages to convince herself the plane is going to go down and that these are her last moments. Plane rides are a bit of a draining experience for her. She also spills her drink either on herself or someone else every single time. She’s doing her best.

Kiyoko: watches movies and shows to pass the time. She usually goes for silly movies that will make her laugh quietly to herself. Her go to movie is Mamma Mia and go to show is ATLA.

Ukai: gets drunk on the plane. Enough said.

Takeda: has fallen asleep on the people next to him on several occasions. He’s mortified when he wakes up and apologizes profusely. But no matter what pillow he tries around his neck he seems to simply gravitate to the living being that just wants to make it through this flight unbothered.

[girl-named-matty]

Random Sebastian Sallow Headcanons pt.5

Just really random headcanons about Sebastian Sallow, what more can I say?

Loves reading biographies. It's always an opportunity to learn, and we all know how he feels about that. However, I think he'd like reading autobiographies even more since he thinks it's more interesting coming from the perspective of the actual person.

That being said, he also has a diary he writes in quite often. And yes, he doodles in it constantly.

Pretty decent in Wizards Chess; however, he's only beaten Garreth once because we all know how good those Weasleys are at Wizards Chess. But Sebastian is 100% definitely the kind of guy to over-analyze every single move to the point where it's hardly fun to play with him anymore, but hey, at least he's determined!

Definitely the "rules are meant to be broken" kind of guy, but he understands the difference between important rules and useless rules (kinda 💀).

Coffee was definitely different back then; however, he'd probably be a bit of an addict, to be honest. I just KNOW that boy is staying up wayyyy too late and needs the caffeine to stay up. (He hates the taste, but it gives him energy before it makes him go kaput lol.)

He's an extrovert, but put a good book in his hands, and he might as well have become an introvert with the way he's ignoring people.

Big fan of exploring, whether that's the grounds around Hogwarts or exploring some book/literature. He likes being out in nature, so you can best believe he's been to the Forbidden Forest quite a few times.

He's quite a big flirt but doesn't know much of what to do after that. Flirtatious behavior comes naturally to him as he's a pretty confident guy, but once the other person actually shows genuine interest in him, he gets a little stuck because he was not expecting it.

He's clumsy; let's be real here.

Can trip on his own shoes, up the stairs, down the stairs, on air; literally anything. It happened a lot more when he was younger, and he's gotten better about fixing his balance, but he used to have bruises all the time from where he had fallen. (Me too, Seb. Me too.)

A tad impatient but not out of malice, he's just the kind of guy to really want to get up and do things, to try and get them done. Dwelling on issues has never brought him any peace of mind, so he's ready to get in there, do the job, and get out. Which could possibly lead to quite a few of his issues LOL. (ifykyk)

You know how his hair is hard to draw? (artists, I can hear you screaming from here). Yeah, well, it's hard to style as well. Ever since he was a boy, his hair was always quite messy, and his mother used to try her best to tame it, but he was a rather energetic boy, so it didn't really stay how it was styled.

And he never got old enough with his father for him to teach Sebastian how to do it, so he kinda had to learn it himself. But hey, we all love Sebastian's iconic hair. (Let's be real; we all probably want to run our hands through it.)

Behind his teenage-ish recklessness, his ambition contributes to his devotion. He's a very devoted person, whether that's to what he believes in, what he does, family, friends, or lovers; he's just a really devoted guy.

If he were in modern times, he'd have great music taste. I can't tell you exactly what he'd listen to since I have too many opinions about that overall; however, I can tell you that it absolutely rocks.

Over all, as much as I like to joke about this little twit, I love him. ;)

[deadliestgalaxy]

SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!

I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.

James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.

(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)

Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.

This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?

But the end suggests they are not family anymore.

Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).

But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.

Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.

Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.

Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.

That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.

She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.

(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)

But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.

Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.

… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.

When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.

And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.

In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.

So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.

(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)

Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!

Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.

Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3

[entomologistt]

What do they give you for Christmas?

Featuring: Emma Woods, Orpheus DeRoss, Victor Grantz, Vera Nair, Anne Lester, Frederick Kreiburg (Identity V)

Contains: Holiday gift giving, fluff, seperate romantic headcanons, gender neutral reader

Ento note: Happy Holidays! And good day to you if you don’t celebrate 🙂‍↕️ I don’t even remember what I spent all my spyglasses on, but now I can’t afford Melly’s christmas B tier… sighs. Next year she will be be mine, trust 🙏

Emma Woods “Gardener”

Emma has to think outside the box this time. She always gives you the prettiest flowers and all of the best, most succulent fruits and vegetables from her garden… Plus, it’s wintertime.

So she reverts back to her old roots of handiwork… Knitting! She spends a while working on a huuuuge knitted sweater of your favourite color(s), each woollen row a sign of her unwavering commitment to making the coziest sweater. 

When she finally gifts it to you, it’s really warm and comfy, perfect for the holiday season. She even made herself a matching green one!

Orpheus DeEss “Novelist”

If you share a similar interest, such as reading, he’d give you books of your favourite genres and authors.

Actually—he’d probably write something just for you, a story he knows you’d enjoy, one that gets you more intrigued with each turn of the page. Maybe even some poems for just you.

He’d also get you a locket necklace or a watch, a piece of pretty jewellery for you to wear. You can put whatever you want in it. Will you keep him close to you?

Victor Grantz “Postman”

He’s a sweetheart, that’s for sure. He shows up at your door with a smile on his face, a bouquet full of poinsettias and red roses held out for you to take. Of course, Wick is with him too, her tail wagging as she barked excitedly behind him. 

Victor is a good listener, so he always takes mental notes on things you like or things you might need. He gifts you various things, including supplies for any hobbies you partake in. 

He also gifts you a new notebook that you can keep, so you can keep his written words and conversations with you! 

Vera Nair “Perfumer”

Vera makes you two special perfumes. One is a pretty bottle full of scents that remind her of you, and she’s an expert at assigning people their recommended fragrances, scents that fit them. In this case, it’s a scent that’s so… you! 

The other is a bottle of euphoria, but she only recommends it for when you need to ease your mind. 

She also gifts you things you’d find in a gift set, full of luxurious bath and skin products. You’re dear to her, you deserve the best, after all. 

Anne Lester “Toy Merchant”

Although her specialty is wooden toys, she has another thing in mind for you. When December comes, she spends a lot of time in her workshop, crafting the perfect gift for you. 

Matching dolls! That’s right; she makes two little dolls, one that’s you and one that’s her. With the paid help of a certain prospector, the little hands are magnetized, so whenever they’re close, they connect! 

Now with these “mini-yous” in the picture, sometimes you both switch dolls. You take mini-Anne wherever you go, and mini-you sits happily on Anne’s shelf with other stuffed animals and toys. 

Frederick Kreiburg “Composer”

Of course, only something special and meaningful would suffice for his muse. At first, he thought of composing another beautiful piece for you on the piano… But let’s just say he’d never be done in time with how many times he’d restart, throwing crumpled papers to the floor. 

But a bright idea flickers in his mind, and he believes it to be possible. So when Christmas Day comes, he charmingly hands you your nicely wrapped gift. 

It’s a music box. When you twist the hand crank, a familiar tune comes in little bell-like notes. It’s one of the first composed pieces he’d ever written for you! Not only can you listen to the nostalgic melody whenever you want, you can also store your pretty jewellery and accessories in the velvet music box. 

[silverflqmes]

Any HCs for Sephiroth with an s/o that's afraid of thunder? 👀💖

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi, i did my best to compile some headcanons, personally i think sephiroth might also be scared himself, so a little comfort will go his way too :’)

genre. hurt + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ the fear of thunder and lightning, otherwise known as astraphobia, is commonly shared among most and completely understandable to sephiroth whenever you find it in yourself to tell him.. unless you give yourself away on accident.

⌗ i feel that due to his enhanced senses and of all the bullshit hojo put him through, he might have developed a sensitivity to loud noises and flashes — but he has learnt to grit his teeth and bear it.

⌗ on some nights it can be a little harder for him, but he feels at ease if you are around and does his best to protect you since you are suffering from the same — if not, worse.

⌗ if you take it upon yourself to speak up about your fear, rest assured, it’s a judgment free zone. sephiroth neither has the place to judge, nor does he shun you for it because he understands it well and wishes to do all that he can to help you through your fear.

⌗ if you have difficulty telling him, trust me with how observant he is, he’s likely to put the pieces together pretty easily. but even still, he will wait until you are ready to tell him.

⌗ but if a thunderstorm comes and you have failed to do, he will take matters into his own hands and at the minute he catches wind of your discomfort.

⌗ it could be a flinch, the tiniest whimper, you ducking to cover your ears or a haphazard excuse to leave the room — but sephiroth will know.

⌗ he would give you a moment if you left the room, but when he doesn’t see you return, he will approach and either join you wherever you are hiding, no matter how small the space is ( this man will cram himself in there like a cat don’t underestimate him ), or pull you into his hold for you to hide in his chest while he soothes your shaking body with his touch.

⌗ from the day he discovered your fear, he would regularly check the weather, making sure to be home whenever a thunderstorm would take place to comfort you through it.

⌗ if he’s away or cannot be home on time from either a mission or meeting, he’s got you on speed dial and keeps you on call for however long you need.

⌗ if he cannot call you at all because fuck shinra sometimes ( all the time ), he took it upon himself to buy you one of those weighted anxiety plushies — or even a normal plush for you to cuddle to feel safe. personally i’m uh.. thinking a gray kitty with cerulean colored eyes to remind you of him :’) so that you feel like he’s still there in a sense.

⌗ another thing is maybe audio recordings of him ( probably just random stuff about his day and sweet nothings ) for you to listen to if you need to hear his voice in the case again, that he cannot be there or phone you.

⌗ throughout a thunderstorm, he would do his best to take your mind off it and make it a little more bearable if at all possible.

⌗ me personally, i like rain but i’m no good with thunderstorms that come with strong winds — the sounds give me a bit of ptsd, especially if i’m on my own. but i try to do things to take my mind off it, which i will list through sephiroth<3

⌗ thunder is a sound which can be solved by playing something over it. whether it’s a show, movie or music, even conversation — you bet your boyfriend is providing whatever he can to mask the unpleasant noises outside.

⌗ rainy days can be nice to get all bundled up in blankets with tea, hot coco or coffee — any warm beverage that you personally enjoy, and sephiroth is willing to use that as a way of making the storm a little easier to handle. pairing the experience with a good book or poetry is also nice — certainly if he offers to read to you. goodness his voice is so nice..

⌗ furthermore he has the curtains pulled in your shared apartment if you find it easier not to see what’s happening outside and he takes it upon himself to make homemade soup for dinner<3

⌗ when the storm drags into the evening, he takes you into his arms and holds you as tight as he possibly can, shielding you from the world beyond his windows.

⌗ even as you tremble and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, you can hear sephiroth humming, the gentle and steady pitter patter of his heartbeat as he smooths a hand down your back. gradually, it relaxes you and your eyes begin to get heavy.

⌗ you hold on tight to your beloved, allowing his protective hold to envelope you wholly as you at last give into sleep, aware that he would keep you safe throughout the evening and remainder of the thunderstorm.

⌗ bonus for sephiroth.. on the rare occasions that his own fear gets the better of him, you do your best to muster whatever courage you can throw together and hold him closely.

⌗ you card your fingers through his silky hair, allowing him to bury his face in either your neck, shoulder, chest — wherever he feels most comfortable — as you rub his back as tenderly as possible, vowing to be there through the very end as he has with your moments of fear.

notes. i may have gotten a little too detailed and indulged a little more than i should have.. but i’m hoping it’s to your likings, tysm for requesting again<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[milkcookiekin]

in honor of Valentine’s Day coming up soon and me wanting to write for other fandoms besides phighting, here’s a treat for the zombie of a fandom we call yakusoku no neverland <3

(of course, this is after escaping to the human world!)

Emma would 100% be the type to take you out on a picnic date. she planned out everything, the scenery with the fairy lights wrapped around the trees, the sunset looks perfect, the food tastes delicious, but it also looks so cute and you feel bad for eating it. she reassured you, and she also just has the cutest little smile on her face while you eat peacefully, she’s just really happy to be spending time with you. you guys end up snuggling as you watch the sunset and just talk about your random thoughts together.

Norman would either take you out on a library or a fancy dinner date, he wants the date to be casual, but also not enough to where he looks like he didn’t put much thought into it. throughout the whole date, he’s happily listening to you ramble about your interests and he makes mental notes so he knows what to buy for you later during the date. though, he’s also very shy and nervous, he doesn’t talk that much throughout it all because he just wants to listen to you, and shaking every time you guys touch even the slightest bit.

Ray on the other hand, is much more comfortable with the idea of having the date be as comfy as possible. he decided a nice date at home on a rainy day was his favorite way to spend Valentine’s Day. he doesn’t really make this occasion a big thing, but he does his best to show his affection. he reads to you with a soothing tone as he plays some soft lofi music in the background, but he’s not actually all that interested in the book, he’s more interested in seeing your reactions, especially as the rain helps lull you to sleep, and he smiles softly. you guys end up falling asleep together all cuddled up with each other.

Don would take you to a big theme park, and you guys go on as many rides as possible before the night rolls around. if you’re afraid of heights, then he’ll take you to an arcade instead, and he actually ends up winning you a lot of prizes and gifts, which is exactly what he wanted, because he wanted to impress you, but you reassure him that spending time with him was more than enough, and he swore he felt butterflies in his stomach for the rest of the night. (he ended up not getting any sleep, he just thought about the date the whole night)

Gilda would most definitely take you out shopping, buying clothes and plushies, and overall just having a fun time. she helps you look for outfits and accessories she knows you’ll love, and has you try them on like you’re on a runaway as she’s complimenting you and cheering you on endlessly! if you’re more self-conscious, she’ll hug you and let you know that you’re absolutely gorgeous, and that nothing could ever change that..

(bonus if Gilda almost gets into a fight with a Karen for being “too loud” while she’s cheering you on)