#and since they spent time together during the filming + end up sharing a class they r friends!!!!! yay!!!!!

[icarrymany]

i love bray so bad i rotate them in my mind every day

[hispieceofcake]

🕸️My thoughts and feelings on Beetlejuice 🪲 (at least for a while)

I know a lot of people probably won't care but I really want to share my thoughts and talk about this character and that's what I'm going to do, There are a lot of thoughts and feelings accumulated inside my head and I need to get them out, it's a little mess but I think it will be fun to read.

I've had this on my mind for a while, which has finally become one of my biggest, if not the biggest, hyperfocuses for now and I'm going to share a little bit of it now >:)

I really didn't think I would have the courage to post this because I'm not that confident in sharing my things but I CAN'T TAKE THIS GREEN DEMON GHOST MAN OFF MY MIND😫‼️

The beginning of this happened when I was already in another hyperfocus on the character Adam from the series Hazbin hotel on Amazon(I was already a fan since the pilot on YouTube), and then a slight curiosity hit me..."Who is his voice actor?"

So I went looking for who he was and I ended up being so interested in the actor, who is Alex Brightman (I love him a lot by the way and I can't wait to go see the musical and see him in person) and also in the characters he played and voiced, and in particular one of them won my heart.😔🩷

That's exactly what you're thinking, it was Beetlejuice.

For some reason he caught my attention and over time I ended up becoming quite fond of the character, even more so when I remembered that my parents watched the character's film when I was a child, which made me even more eager to research and look for any possible bit of information on the internet that I could find.

AND YES !

I actually achieved a lot and I'm going to share it <3

Firstly, the 1988 film, which was one of the first pieces of information I found about it, after all, it was in it that the character made his debut (apart from the story of its creator Tim Burton). And I know Beetlejuice is a pervert in this movie, but I try to ignore that and try to just look at the good side of him being a good character.

Secondly, and I think this is what caught my attention the most, is the cartoon of 1989 with the same name as the character called Beetlejuice where the character acted as the protagonist alongside Lidya (In this one there's nothing about him wanting to force her to marry him like in the movie, it's just a cartoon of them having a good friendship and being best friends).

And man, the way I was happy when found out that the cartoon had 4 seasons and about 68 episodes, I was almost like that kitten TikTok meme ✨ HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY ✨

Like, wow, a source of potential Gifs, icons, dividers, photos, edits, there was so much I could do that I didn't even know where to start because of all the hustle and bustle and animation I had (And of course I spent the next few weeks pestering my friends about it during class with every little bit of information I found🤓👆).

At the moment I'm trying to look for a website that has all the episodes together or just some, but so far I've only been able to find them on old DVDs. When I can find a website I will gather all the links and post them, so that more people can watch.

And one of the best parts...I FOUND A WHOLE COLLECTION OF 🩷VALENTINES' DAY CARDS🩷 and I'll probably make another post later to post all of them or at least their links, they're all official. This made me even more excited because I love all that romantic and cute aesthetic of the Valentine's Day season, hearts, red and pink decorations, heart-shaped candy boxes, love letters, Decorated store windows, stuffed animals, I just love everything (even though I don't have a valentine, and I don't want to🙃).

To give you an idea of how focused I was on this little green-haired corpse demon ghost man, everywhere I have the opportunity I make doodles or drawings of him all over the places, walls, notebooks, tests, napkins, classroom board, and in my sketchbook, in which I'm making an entire page dedicated just to him and Lidya, which maybe later I'll post too. Even more so after I managed to find several official reference sheets from the studio that designed and animated the cartoon, so now the drawings will be much better.💋

There is so much information that I managed to find that I am having to organize my thoughts because unfortunately I am very agitated and anything takes my focus easily, but as soon as I can really focus on that, it feels like I'm somewhere else.

But now talking about the Broadway musical, (which as said before has my beloved Alex Brightman as the main actor), I've always liked the idea of musicals, and even more so when his story is about my favorite character, and speaking of musicals, I REALLY WAS OBSESSED WITH THE SONG "SAY MY NAME" 😫🩷

And oh boy, I spend almost all day singing it or with it resonating in my mind, whenever I read, write, draw or do anything to do with Beetlejuice, I put on my headphones and listen this song as if it were the greatest masterpiece made in history.

AND I'M SORRY BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS SONG WITH YOU GUYS

Leaving the character a little, and going to the actor...he is simply the SWEETEST AND CUTEST MAN I'VE EVER SEEN!!

After I discovered that he voiced the characters that I like most in the Hazbin Hotel fandom and played the character that I like so much, I developed a huge affection for him, not just for his work, but because he is so sweet, fun and funny that I can't help but love everything and everything I find about this man online.

Alex Brightman bringing the character Beetlejuice to life and voicing Adam, Fizzarolli and Sir Pentious

That's it for now ,folks, that's all I have stuck in my mind for now or at least what I can remember

I apologize if this isn't so good, I'm writing this while I'm at school at 7am after waking up at 5am while my body is sore after a presentation.

So, thank you for reading 💞

[harrysmimi]

We'll Deal With It When We've To

Synopsis: One where Harry asks his girlfriend a very serious question.

More of my work

Being able to feel like home was something Harry was in search of. No doubt London will always be home. But it's just a place. The house he lived in London started to feel more like a house than a home when the world was shut down due to the pandemic. Like the walls of his massive house wanted to cave in on him when he's there alone.

But eventually everything started to get back on track. That's when he met his darling.

He was in London to film My Policeman. He'd met her at a cafe in the town where he lived. Starting off as acquaintance, they became really good friends. He got to know she is a professor teaching finance to UG and PG students at the London Business School. She's extremely smart with a masters in her name and now a PhD on it's way. She had accomplished so much just of 22.

She lived alone in London with her cat, Dorothea. A big and hardcore fan of one of his Ex which Harry found adorable that she even named her cat after a song. Her little studio flat near her University which was a new home for Harry for most of the time he was there. Though he slept over, he liked to hang out with her there. Dorothea was pretty welcoming of him as well. Plus YN made some amazing food!

They shared so much things in common, both of them liked going on morning runs, drink black coffee, obsessed — though it would be an understatement — with The Notebook, read books. Though she read memoirs by Business personalities for her classes, and he liked to read novels and novellas. Romantic novels to be exact, especially since he have met her.

For the longest (by longest means till just weeks before he had to leave for Italy) Harry had gotten the courage to ask her on a date and confess his budding crush on her.

It seemed that everything was going too fast when both of them decided to make things official and exclusive.

Well, Harry wanted her know that everything he had with her was just for her, for as long as they're together. He'd fallen in love with her the moment he talked to her at that cafe. But it was on a facetime call that YN had accidentally slipped an I Love You for the first time. Harry was over the moon to hear that.

The long distance till the month of November was the hardest part. Especially because Harry was dreading to say those three words to her in person and hug her and cuddle her and kiss her till his heart feels full. But due to their schedules it was a little hard.

But they spent Christmas and New Years in London when he was back home. That's when YN met his family for the first time in person. Just a quiet dinner at his mum's house with a bunch of Christmas movies. Many childhood embarrassing stories were shared to YN by Anne and Gemma about the boy. The childhood album was taken out on New Year's Eve.

They celebrated both of their birthdays at her flat. And mostly stayed there.

The space was small, intimate. Just enough for two people and a cat. Home which Harry never wanted to leave. YN was his home that he never wanted to leave.

And of course, Dorothea who loved him dearly too.

They have talked about their future together, like every other couple did. But it seemed so legit with YN. Like it wasn't a fever dream that's going to break once he wakes up his slumber when he doesn't remember falling asleep.

He's had everything figured out. Proposing to her after his tour ends this year. And they've talked about getting married for sure.

The month of April, Harry was going to perform at Coachella. And he'd somehow convinced his girlfriend to go with him. He'd rented a whole Airbnb for just two of them, with a beach view and their own swimming pool. Also they've got their thrid anniversary coming up during the second week of Coachella.

......................................................................

A sunny day in LA, a nice day to camp out for a picnic at their backyard. With coffee and bunch of summery fruits. Rehearsals for Coachella were exhausting that he was lied back, relaxing whilst his girlfriend painted his nails (he offered to paint hers but she doesn't like nail polish).

"Do you wanna go on a little vacation after this?" He asked.

"I can't take any more days off," YN said, "plus this is like a little vacation."

"Is it?" He said.

"Yeah, I've never been to America before." She shared, "thank you for bringing me with you."

"You don't have to thank me baby," he smiled looking at her, she was very much concentrated on painting his last pinky nail and blow on it as if it is going to make it dry any quicker. She placed a kiss on the back of his hand. "Come on lay here with me."

"You're going to mess up your nails," she pointed out.

"I won't," he moved to make more space for her on the picnic rug. She lied on her tummy next to him resting her head on his chest.

"Are you coming home after the festival?" She asked.

"Yeah, since we can't go on vacation now." He said, "we can go during your year end break, how does that sound?"

"Yeah that sounds fun." She agreed, "where do you wanna go?"

"Wherever you want." He shrugged.

"I don't know," she chuckled hesitantly. Lifting her head up she propped herself on her elbows.

Yeah she earned more than enough to survive but it was going to take a huge toll on her bank account, plus she still needed to pay for tuitions as she's in midst of getting her Doctorate. Even this festival thing, even though her boyfriend have gotten her free passes she still have to pay for her own things. She'll have to start saving up for this upcoming vacation to wherever from the exact moment.

"Don't you have anywhere to go on your bucket list? We can go there." He suggested.

"I haven't thought about it yet," YN said. Pushing his hair out of his forehead. "London was definitely one of the places now I can't remember the rest."

"You wanted to go roam around the streets of Istanbul in hopes of seeing that actor you gush over." He teased her.

It was a huge thing when they both first met. YN would make him watch these Turkish series and movies with her with her favourite actor, fangirling over every little thing that actor did. Along with Succession, she made him watch that too. And yeah not to forget her favourite Bollywood movies.

"Urgh! If we do, I'll be passing away in peace!" She isn't going to let him get to her this time.

"Don't do that, because I need ny girlfriend with me." He pouted.

"Why are you jealous?" She cooed with her cheeky smirk.

"I'll go walk around on the streets of Mumbai in hopes of bumping into Deepika Padukone." He huffed.

"Oh please, she's so darn gorgeous, tell her that I'm a huge fan." She started fangirling.

"I can never win," he sighed shaking his head in defeat.

"Do you want to at To Be So Lonely on your setlist?" She asked. "'Cause miss the shape of your lips, you'll win, it's just a trick. This is so I'm so not sorry for simping over Deepika Padukone." She sang his song.

"God, I'm never teasing you again now!" He chuckled.

She laughed, "I love you."

"I love you more." He reciprocated.

He loved when his girlfriend wore his clothes. Currently she's wearing his yellow shirt with big white flowers on it, the one he wore in Watermelon Sugar and a pair of loose Nike shorts. She lied down next to him on her back properly as it was would not hurt her back for next two weeks. Though they were in the shade of a tree sun was still getting into her eyes, to block that Harry propped himself up on his elbow next to her. He's got sunscreen on.

"Oh did I tell you about this incident..." And she started ranting about this thing happening at Uni which got slightly in trouble. Walking in on students engaging into sexual activities is something which is not allowed on campus property. Every classroom has got cameras, even the ones which were not often used. YN did settled with the students who begged her to not report them. But she was called in by the principal and she had to tell the truth to keep her job, those students were left on a strict warning and it was all good. That happened right before YN had to get to her's, drop her cat at her friends for two weeks and then head over to Harry's. It was a chaos. Harry carefully listened to her each other, what else he have to do? And what else was better he'd do instead of listening to his pretty girlfriend rant?

When they were staying at hers, he'd listen to her share random and weird and sometimes bizzare stories which happened over her teaching career. Some very gossipy, some very sad, and very funny. He'd have at least one story to hear before they drift off to sleep every night.

"That's what got you late?" He asked.

"Mhmm," she nodded, "now I know why professors show no mercy!"

"Have you been in those kinda situation?"

"Oh hell to the no bro," she exhaled a dramatic puff of air, "the most I've gotten in trouble for at school or college was that I never, I mean never submitted my projects and assignments on time."

"You're smart one, wasn't expecting that from you for sure." He commented.

"I used to procrastinate a lot," she smiled sheepishly. "I dunno I passed even my first semester."

"I never turned in my assignments on time too," he shared, "I still passed highschool though."

"You're Harry Styles!" She rolled her eyes, "of course there isn't a thing you're bad at."

"You're really gonna give me an ego, darling." He chuckled. "Have I told you that you look extra pretty today?"

"Why just because I gave your ego an accidental boost?" She asked.

"Meanie!" He huffed, "but doesn't change the fact that you look extra pretty today." He winked.

It was their own way of communicating. People always thought they're being super mean and rude to each other when in reality both of them are nust joking and very well known where their personal boundaries are.

"I love you!" She laughed, pressing a gentle kiss on his mouth.

Taking the advantage of his position, Harry didn't let pull away. He deserves more kisses. Period.

As on autopilot, his hand went up to cup her jaw. Pad of his thumb drawing soothing circles on apple of her cheek. YN rested her head back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Little slither of the tip of his tongue on her lower lip was enough of a signal for her to open for him. It wasn't to lead to anywhere sexual, especially when Harry felt the tips of her soft fingers massaging soothing circles on the back of his head. Later only to realise she was running out of air and he should probably give her time to breathe and take in a few breaths himself.

"Let me breathe," she chuckled.

Harry just sighed resting his forehead on hers. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" She nodded.

He finally gathered all the bits of courage he have to ask what he have been wanting to. It was terrifying. Though he was most certain there wasn't even a ounce of a chance for a rejection. He lifted his head to look at her.

"You remember how we always talk about getting married and having kids?" He asked.

"Mhmm," she nodded again.

"Well, let's keep the kids thing out just for now." He cleared his throat to buy himself sometime, "what you still think about us getting married?"

"I still want us to get married," she said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I just wanted to ask again." He could feel his skin warming up, but not due to sun, "if I were to ask you to marry me, would you say yes? I, I know it's a huge commitment. I understand if you don't feel ready yet."

"Of course I would definitely say yes," she gave her honest answer, "if I can remember I was the one who brought up the topic the first time around. We later joked about it but I was very serious."

"Were you?"

"Yeah!" She was pretty nervous now as to why he was asking this all of sudden. "Do you not want to?"

"Of course I do baby. Just wanted to ask," he cooed softly caressing her worried face, "at least want to ask your brothers for their blessings and respect your culture. Had to make sure you're happy with it, at the end of the day it's you I want to be happy. That should be first priority if we I want to marry you."

"I don't know why I thought you were going to break up with me. But yeah, I want marry you." She laughed sheepishly when her vision blurred out due to tears pooling up in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry." He cooed again.

"I'm not," she defended, "I'm not, I promise."

"Haven't got a ring yet but you'll get it soon." He warned her.

"I don't want it. I'm already saying yes," she pouted.

"But you deserve one." He defended with a kiss on her pouty lips. "I love you so much!" And he peppered her face with sloppy kisses.

"I love you so much too!" She squirmed under him feeling ticklish. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you wanted to keep having kids out for now, don't you want that now?" She asked.

"I do, but not anytime soon. I don't feel emotionally and mentally ready for a life long commitment to a child, sorry I couldn't communicate that properly." He explained, "but yeah, I do wanna have kids. With you."

YN's always been open about important it that she wants kids of her own, biological or adopted. Harry knew that must have gotten her a little worried.

"It's okay." She shrugged, "we can always get more cats."

"That's always an option, yes." He couldn't help but agree. "Are you still going to that concert on Monday?" He asked as it seemed she's got nothing else to talk about. He loved to hear her talk his ears off.

"I don't know, my friend got me passes. I just don't wanna go alone." She said.

One of her friend works with her favourite band now, she had surprised YN with the passes to their concert in LA on her birthday. Her friend was certain that Harry's going to drag her to LA with him.

"I can go with you," he suggested.

"Then people are gonna know." She pointed out.

"I'm not going to miss out spending time with my girl 'cause of that." He told her. And oh that pet name gave her real butterflies, "and we're just going to a concert."

"Are you sure?" She seemed scared of something.

"Yeah," scooted closer to her, "what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she avoided looking directly at him or she would start crying. "You know people knowing just scares me. Especially the media stuff."

"You don't have to worry about that my love, the best we can do is ignore all of that." He told her. "Hey look at me?" With his hand rested on her cheek he made her look at him, "we don't have to worry about what so far in the future, okay?"

"Yeah, but like almost all of my students are like hardcore fans of you. It just gives me anxiety to even think about that." YN shared, her voice shakh as she tried to hold back her tears.

She have seen the things being said to his ex-lovers. Afterall she listened to him as well, she wasn't just that dedicated of a fan. It scares her to go through the same thing when she's totally unaware of media and online harrasment which comes with being in entertainment industry.

For other reason being her family. She doesn't have the closest and nicest relation with her family. Except for her two elder brothers. She hated to be part of that family, especially because of her step mother who fit into every typical and cliché category of evil step mothers. Her own mum wasn't a saint per se. That was the only reason for her to move to a completely different continent and cut ties with them. Or else she would be living a very luxurious life at her millionaire dad's house and work at a very higher and nicer paying job role at his company.

She didn't wanted her step mother to know or she'll get to witchery shit and get to ruining her life even more. Plus Harry's fans were crazy and she's constantly surrounded by them at her job. But that was the least she was worried about, because her students wouldn't do be brave enough to say anything to her as all their grades for her subject in her hands. They'd be too scared to say a thing.

The thing is, Harry is yet to meet her brothers (who are actually nice to their only baby sister). It would create a whole new whirlpool of mess before that.

"We don't have to go public then," Harry said, "anyway I love going on our secret little rendezvous, and hanging out with Dorothea."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Hey, I promise it'll be okay. I just need you trust me, okay?" He pressed a kiss on her cheek.

"Yeah," she nodded again.

"You still look worried to me baby, come on you can tell me everything you know that." Harry pressed knowing she's probably never going to talk about things bothering her.

"It's nothing, jist worried about my dad and both my mum's finding out." She said, "especially my step mother. You know she's a bitch."

"Yeah, I know that," he nodded.

"Hmm, she's going to make our lives a living hell."

"We'll deal with it when we have to," he smiled, "for now tell me what you wanna do today and what you want for dinner? It's your turn today I believe."

"Yeah, do you want to get pizza?" She asked.

"We're getting pizza," he agreed.

"Let's go for run on the beach now," she suggested already getting just to plopped back down when Harry pulled her back down. She fell flat on he ass, "ouch!"

"I'm sorry, you alright?" He didn't meant to laugh. "I'm sorry," he chuckled holding close. "I've got another thing we can do instead of going on a run?"

"I've got another thing we can do," she mocked his accent jokingly. For some reason she liked to annoy him back for teasing her all the time.

"I do not sound like that," ge gasped.

"Yes you do," she laughed.

He was going to attack her with tickles before she fled the place. Harry was quick to run after her.

"Harry stop!" She said running around the pool.

"Are you going to stop?" He put up a condition.

"No you're going to tickle me!" She tried to dodge him but Harry sped up his steps. Grabbing her he attempted to throw her in the pool but YN was smart enough to pull him down with her.

"Fuck, it's cold!" Harry shivered as he came up on the surface following his girlfriend who was holding onto him tight as she doesn't know how to swim.

"Can you believe it, we don't have a Jacuzzi!" She said making him laugh.

"You're not funny," he joked. He wondered how her brain is weirdly wired that she get out random references to every situation.

"Hmm I can see, now get us out of here." She demanded.

"You can get down, it's not rhat deep." He told her as he was stood there in neck deep water with his feet touching the floor of the pool.

"Dude you're six feet tall! I'm barely five-six and I can't swim," she clung to him as he tried to put her down. He wouldn't let go of her his love like that, he was just joking.

"There's enough room for you, I won't let you drown baby." He started making his way out of the pool.

......................................................................

They spent their weekend and next week being lowkey, at their Airbnb. Just leaving the house as Harry surprised her by taking her to the Warner Bros studio on their anniversary. And it was her first time in LA, she have to go to all these places. He had assigned that job to himself.

As for YN, she was keeping an eye on her very unpredictable boyfriend who can pop the question again with an actual ring next time. But she also made sure to have fun with him.

Harry seemed to not care about anything with people knowing now. He can't stop living his life just for that reason. He's a human at the end of the day. He's going to be very unapologetic for being himself and living his life.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Jay Gatsby

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You officially met Jay a while after he first saw and fell for you. You came from a relatively low class family and lived in tiny home with your parents; as most unmarried girls did. 

- It was out of sheer coincidence that Gatsby first saw you. Your fathers shop was a little ways away from a usual meeting place of his and you’d often sit under the awning when business was slow. He’d just been walking outside of said place when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you, fanning yourself in the shade. 

- Even in the heat with your face flushed and/or damp and your hair a bit frazzled; you still looked angelic. There was a certain sweetness to you; an undeniable beauty to your face and a subdued grace to your demeanor. He found himself returning to the area in hopes of seeing you again; even when he had no business there. 

- Gatsby's never been very good with women; at least women he found extremely charming, so as much as he wished to, he was far too nervous to just walk over to you. But then he saw his way in.

- Nick Carraway, whom you greeted with familiarity as he stopped just as the entrance of your fathers shop to speak with you for a minute. You should have seen his awkward pacing outside of Nicks house before and as he arrived home, waiting to ask a favor of him; it really was quite adorable. 

- So Gatsby allows himself to ask Nick if he’d be able to help him in his endeavor and obviously his friend agreed. You’d known Nick for a good few months and had gotten quite friendly with him so when he telephoned your home and invited you over for tea, you didn’t think much of it. 

- What did surprise you was the fact that another, sharply dressed man arrived at the house a few moments after you had; a man Nick introduced as Jay Gatsby. He initially seemed somewhat constipated as the three of you sat together though you occasionally thought you’d seen him sneaking glances your way. Finally, Nick exclaimed that he had to take a quick trip into town and told you that he’d be right back, leaving you alone with the man in his living room.

- It was a bit awkward at first but then you’d mentioned the flowers; the ones he’d bought, and how you had a memory involving them or that you’d always wanted to see ones like it and that they didn't grow anywhere you lived. His face softened as you spoke and a smile spread across it, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you in absolute adoration. 

- In that moment, you reminded him of himself in a way. A penniless dreamer who was worth more than the life they were handed. It was like he was back in North Dakota looking at his younger self staring at the stars. 

- Nick “returns home” only to be excitedly invited by Gatsby to the castle that he calls a home; after you expressed interest in “one day seeing it”. Like any normal person would be, you were in awe of the place, and Gatsby was falling even more in love with you by the minute. 

- A day or so later, you’d gotten a knock at your door and lo and behold, it was one of Gatsby’s butlers, delivering to you a handwritten invitation to one of his parties like you were the queen of England. How could you refuse?

- You put on your best dress; though you still end up feeling severely underdressed the minute you get there, and call a cab. Gatsby lingered about and observed you for a bit before he asked the “old sport” (Nick) to bring you to him at the top of the stairs. 

- Soon enough you were smiling up at and greeting him kindly before  the two of you began to speak to each other. You spent the rest of the night, dancing, drinking, gushing to him about his party, and occasionally moving to more intimate settings for more personal conversation. 

- By the end of the night, you were quite smitten with him, and he’s obviously more than smitten with you. He’s called away on business as you’re leaving but he insists that you let one of his men drive you home and asks that you call him the next day, to which you agree without thinking.

- You call him at noon and his butler picks up, handing the phone to him after a moments wait. Jay eagerly gets on and says “how about you come over”, after which he tells you he’ll come to pick you up. 

- As you’re getting ready to leave, he speaks with your father and you can overhear him discussing business with the man. Later on, you’ll learn that he proposed that he could “help” your father with his shop which only made the man even more happy to let you spend time with the bachelor. 

- So, you spend the day with the man, exploring his home and swimming on his beach while being waited on hand and foot. You felt like an absolute princess for the first time in your life and the way he looked at you; the way every girl wanted to be looked at, was addicting. 

- You share your first kiss that day while the two of you are swimming. You’re both laughing and bobbing next to each other when you meet eyes, your laughter fading naturally and comfortably. He reaches out to brush the hair from your face and you let him, though his hand lingers on your cheek.

“I’d like to kiss you.” He says and it’s part statement and part question. 

- You inhale sharply and in a sort of high, flustered whisper, you say “then go on”, and he smiles before doing so, his chilled lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss; one that conveys just how much he’d grown to love you in one desperate action. 

- In that kiss is a promise; one that both of you recognize. The promise of a life spent happily by each others sides; the life he’d dreamed of since the moment he saw you. 

- He gives you as much affection in public as he can; mainly innocent things like soft kisses and gentle touches. He likes to treat you like a lady so he’s more reserved in his actions than his party guests are with their women.

- Handholding. He occasionally likes enveloping one of; or the two of, your hands in both of his while the two of you are sitting and talking; or just laying a hand on top of yours and lightly grasping it.

- Hugs from behind. He likes holding you close and resting his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face against yours.

- Kisses pressed to your jaw, neck and shoulders; especially after he kisses your lips. You’re usually in a more intimate setting when he does.

- Forehead kisses no matter where you are.

- Sometimes, his kisses alone are enough to make you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. He’s a very passionate man when it comes to you.

- Laying your head in his lap. He’ll brush his fingers across your hair and back, and try his best to snuggle close to you whenever he can.

- Cuddling with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped wrapped you; he likes feeling your arm laying across his stomach or your hand resting on his chest. He also likes spooning you from behind and pressing kisses to your shoulder.

- Wearing his silky, expensive shirts in the mornings. He loves seeing you in them, there’s just something so charming about it to him.

- He’ll either just call you by your name or “darling”. He likes the sophisticated sound of it.

- Lots of photos. He’s got a scrapbook of the two of you; mostly you.

- Being introduced to a bunch of A-list celebrities. All you have to do is tell him that you like someone’s something and he can set up a lunch “date” for the two of you.

- The entire world couldn’t even compare to you in his eyes. You’re everything to him and he’s damn proud that you’re his girl.

- He can never get enough of you. No matter how long you’ve been together, he’ll always want to be close to your side.

- Beach dates. He’s got his own personal beach so why wouldn’t you use it?

- Boat, or rather Yacht, rides. Sometimes, the two of you will fall asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms in one of the ships rooms during the warm summer days.

- Lounging in the sun or in the shade of his gardens. You’ve had quite a few picnics in his huge backyard.

- Gourmet dinners.

- Having tea together.

- Double dates with Nick and Jordan; or whatever girl he’s found himself getting involved with.

- Considering just how rich he is, he; most likely, has a theater room in his home so you can watch any film you’d like in the comfort of his arms. He certainly wouldn’t object to taking you to a broadway show either.

- Having everything you could ever want or ask for. He absolutely spoils you; it’s one of his favorite things to do.

- Going on drives.

- Since it’s the 1930s and because your family wasn’t exactly wealthy, you most likely don’t know how to drive and he found it quite fun to teach you. You spent a day clumsily drifting around the grounds of his home while he smiled and laughed.

- Getting to do everything men at the time did. If you want to experience something then god dammit, he’s going to let you!

- Everyone is aggressively nice to you because of who he is. You definitely have to get used to suddenly being treated like a Princess by just about everyone in town.

- Every once in a while, he convinces himself about certain things and once he does, nothing can change his mind about them. He has a lot of expectations; though they usually don’t affect you in a negative way.

- Dancing together. Could be at a party, could be when you’re alone, either way, he loves doing it with you.

- Sneaking away at parties. He enjoys the atmosphere and, to an extent, he throws them to keep up a good reputation with his associates, but he does prefer to just spend time with you when it really comes down to it.

- His lips taste like champagne a lot of the time; especially if you’re kissing at one of his parties.

- Being interrupted by business. You saw how incessant his “colleagues” can be, don’t be surprised when he gets called away from you; though he oftentimes tells them he’s busy if you’re doing something special.

- Exploring his home. He’s got more rooms than anyone could ever need and you constantly find yourself seeing new things whenever you take it upon yourself to travel through his mansion.

- Getting to hear his life story. At the beginning of your relationship, he chooses the best aspects of it and leaves out the questionable or less desirable parts. He’ll most likely tell you about those when you’ve been together longer.

- Your praise means the world to him. He only really thinks that your; and nicks, opinion of him truly matters. You can make his entire week by simply telling him that you’re proud of him.

- He loves when you express your feelings about him. He loves you more than life itself so those little comments about how you wish you could stay by his side constantly or how you wished you’d met him sooner really get to him.

- Every once in a while, he’ll really lose his temper on someone and you’ll assure him that you aren’t scared and try to help him relax. It’s in those moments that you realize how dangerous he can be, but from the way he can stop himself, you know he’s better then a lot of men.

- He’s always there for you whenever you need him, no matter the reasoning. He’ll speak quietly to you, whispering comforting words as he holds your face in his hands.

- Considering the fact that he can give you whatever you want and because you’re both so obviously in love, he rarely gets jealous. When he does, he just tries to keep a close eye on them or steer you away whenever he can.

- He’s incredibly protective of you, he’ll always jump to your defense; no matter who the person is, and do whatever he can to make sure you’re okay. He’ll sit outside of your house all night to make sure you’re okay if he has to.

- He’s got the police in his pocket and a dozen men that owe him favors so if you have a problem, he’ll be able to handle it; and he’ll do so selflessly if he has to.

- The two of you don’t fight very often, you don’t have a reason to. In those rare instances that you do, he remains relatively calm, perhaps giving a quick raise of his voice out of frustration before sighing, apologizing, and trying to explain more.

- He’s always quick to apologize, he hates when you’re upset with him so he’ll want to explain and have things be alright between you as quickly as possible. He’ll follow after you and do his best to smooth things over whenever he has to.

- He knows that he loves you and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from expressing it even if he tried. He adores whenever you tell him that you love it; it’s all he wants you to do.

- He has your entire future together already planned out. It’s very likely that he proposes to you fairly early into your relationship; and is a bit of a groomzilla during the wedding planning.

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Five

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,888

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

The Age Gap Issue

It has been ten days since you started dating Cillian and things were great, at least mostly.

Over the past ten days, you spent every single night at Cillian’s apartment, enjoying his company. Neither of you even thought about tuning it down, maintaining distance from each other or taking things slow. It was simply too perfect and there was so much you had to talk about. Then there was the sex. The most incredible sex. You couldn’t get enough of each other.

At university, Cillian managed to keep things professional during the group sessions and largely avoided one on one contact with you during classes. Of course, you had questions for him but, unlike the other students, you simply asked them when you were alone with him, often over a glass of wine or over dinner. The arrangement worked well and, thus far, you haven’t arisen any suspicions.

The deadline was near and secrets didn’t have to be secrets anymore for very long. Cillian’s involvement in your unit was going to come to an end in two weeks and the final assessments for the semester were taking place in as little as four weeks. After that, you could be together without having to hide it.

But there was still one thing that you haven’t quite managed to juggle just yet and this was the difference in age between you and Cillian.

While it didn’t bother you at all, you occasionally noticed that Cillian struggled with it, questioning the feelings he was developing for you.

There was one conversation in particular triggering Cillian’s doubts and that was when you brought up your younger step brothers who were 14 and 12, the same age as Cillian’s sons.

Cillian was rather reserved when it came to conversations about his sons Hendrix and Charlie but, the more he got to know you, the more he told you about them.

You loved that he did share these details with you but, at the same time, it made him realise how you were at totally different stages of your lives and that this might pose problems for the future.

As such, whilst Cillian and his ex-wife Laura had a good relationship with each other after having divorced five years ago, bringing a much younger woman into a step family dynamic at some point was possibly a bad idea.

The other issue that he thought might possibly arise is that you would likely want children yourself at some point. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to start all over again.

In addition to these warranted concerns, there were little things as well that made Cillian feel self-conscious about the difference in age and you couldn’t help but tease him about them.

The Grey Hair

For example, the night before Cillian was due to fly to Dublin to see his sons, he became rather self-conscious about his hair turning grey. It had been turning grey for quite some years but, when you met several weeks ago, he had just finished filming his TV show Peaky Blinders. This meant that his hair was short and coloured dark.

Over the period of six weeks, it grew out slowly, featuring some grey streaks which, this time around, he noticed much more than he ever did.

In addition, Cillian was featuring a few grey hairs on his chest as well and it was that evening, when you arrived at his apartment that you caught him coming out of the shower, his intimate parts covered by a white towel and his chest hair…Gone!

‘Whoa’ you said as you walked inside, noticing immediately that he had shaved his chest.

‘What?’ Cillian went on to ask before giving you a kiss.

‘Why did you do this?’ you pouted, running your hands over his bare chest. ‘I loved running my hands through it’ you said somewhat disappointed as you really enjoyed playing with the small amount of hair on his chest when you cuddled up against him.

‘Well…some have turned grey’ Cillian said somewhat reluctantly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘As is expected at your age’ you giggled teasingly before realising what this was all about.

‘Yeah, that really makes me feel better’ Cillian laughed and you pressed your lips onto his for a passionate kiss.

‘I have no idea why you are so self-conscious about a few grey hairs Cilly’ you went on to say, slightly amused.

‘Because you are twenty years younger than me’ Cillian responded and you sighed.

‘Here we go again’ you chuckled before pushing him backwards to sit on the lounge while you stood in front of him.

‘Listen, there are a lot of women younger than me who are very attracted to you’ you said and Cillian recalled the Instagram posts you had showed him a few days ago, which made him shake his head.

‘Also, I really like your grey hair. It’s fucking sexy. You are fucking sexy’ you then went on to say.

‘I am just saying that you could be with someone your own age Y/N’ Cillian responded.

‘And why would I want that?’ you asked. ‘We connect perfectly and you are literally the first person I have ever met with whom I am never running out of conversation. You are intelligent, funny, kind and very handsome. In addition, the sex is fucking amazing. I don’t want anyone else and I want you to let this damn hair grow back’ you demanded all while you seductively unwrapped your dress and revealed your black lace lingerie.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian barely managed to say as you stood there in front of him.

‘I bought it today. For you’ you winked before walking over towards him, kissing him passionately and then unwrapping the towel around him like you were opening a present.

As he sat there in front of you, completely naked, you pulled a pillow from the lounge and put it onto the floor before kneeling down on it, right there in between his legs.

Your mouth opened and you leaned forward just enough to catch the head of his cock between your lips.

‘Fuck, yes’ Cillian swore and you sighed, your eyes fluttered at the feeling of him, fighting to open your mouth wider to take more of him in. He was hot, and you tasted the sweet savory drop of precum that leaked onto your tongue.

Watching Cillian like this was enchanting. You sucked harder, feeling him pulse against your lips and tongue. His eyes widened and he moaned. Oh, you would do almost anything to hear him make that sound. It was an incredible turn on for you. Your tongue swirled around him, flicking the crown and massaging under the head.

‘Oh god Y/N’ Cillian murmured, and he reached for you. You felt his fingers clench in your hair so little prickles of pain burned your scalp. You met his eyes as he pulled your face into his crotch, and his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you kept your eyes on his expression, and watched him fall apart above you.

‘Shit’ Cillian eventually jerked away, wrenching himself out of your mouth. A long trail of spit connected you, and eventually broke, slapping against your chest. You caught your breath.

‘I want you so fucking much’ he growled, his voice strained. He caught you under your arms and helped you to your feet before picking you up and carrying you to his bed.

‘Cillian, please I need you inside of me’ you whimpered and Cillian shoved you against the bed, your back facing him, and you shivered as you felt his hands squeezing at your ass and hips. He stood directly behind you, and you could feel the hair on his legs tickling the backs of your thighs.

‘You almost made me lose it there’ Cillian said as he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground before quickly pulling down your lace panties.

‘I could tell you enjoyed it’ you grinned as Cillian moved one of your legs with his hands, bending your knees one at a time so you were crouched on the bed. He paused behind you, and you closed your eyes, listening to his ragged breathing, trying to stay calm.

Cillian’s finger traced your slit gently, and you gasped and let out a shaky moan as he dipped into your wetness.

‘So wet for me already’ Cillian smirked and you simply nodded. You couldn't talk. You could barely breathe.

Within seconds, you felt the head of his cock press against you, and then he grabbed your hips, and shoved it inside.

You cried out as he invaded your body. A hot flash of something went through you, and your arms buckled under you as you fell face first into the mattress.

You could hear Cillian behind you, grunting and swearing, holding your hips tightly, his nails biting into your skin. He pulled you back against him roughly, and another hot flash of pleasure shot through your body. You felt like you were going to explode any minute.

‘Y/N’ he growled, and shifted behind you, and then you felt his arm snake around your waist and up to your face. He pulled you up and held your chin firmly with his hand. You could feel his chest pressed against your back, like he was holding you tight against him in a hug as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Oh god Cillian yes’ you moaned as he was dropping his head and caught your neck with his teeth. He bit you gently, and then sucked hard at the bite, thrusting deeper and deeper into you in a way that you still couldn't understand.

‘Open your eyes’ he growled into your ear and your eyes flew open. Across from you was the mirror of the nightstand. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you took in the sight of Cillian buried inside your body, holding you close.

‘Cillian’ you moaned again as your whole body caught fire, and burned, and burned. You saw fireworks behind your eyes and your brain went all staticy.

It could have lasted an hour, or been just a moment in time, but the next thing you knew was that your legs began to shake violently and your walls began to clench around Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your juices squirted onto the wooden floor.

At the same time, Cillian reached his high as well, thrusting into you with several loud groans as he filled you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘Jesus that was amazing’ Cillian huffed just before he pulled out of you gently and you both collapsed on the bed together.

‘So, tell me again Cilly, why would I want to be with a younger guy?’ you giggled.

  Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo�� @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[poppunkporco]

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader fic)

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader)

contents: porco x fem reader, mentions of marcel galliard, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, fluff, pining, alternate universe - college/university, modern au, bisexuality, smoking, porco galliard-centric

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: When he walks her home that night, Porco realizes he might have feelings for his childhood best friend. He has no idea in hell how to deal with it but he tries.

word count: 5079

notes: i just thought it'd be interesting to try writing a modern au porco/reader fic in a more porco-centric POV. what i try to do here is explore how he deals with the soft sappy feelings of slowly realizing he's in love since he's pretty bad at emotions and even more so when it's not a [strong, violent type of feeling]

*fic loosely based on this song:

*this is also cross-posted on ao3

***

2:40 AM at an empty parking lot behind a 7-Eleven. The nearest lamp post flickers weakly with its dimming orange light as Porco sets down his third empty beer can on the concrete with a yawn.

“Hey,” he says, lightly shrugging the shoulder against which she leaned her head on. She doesn’t budge from beside him. He rubs the lethargy off his eyes.

They’ve been sitting on this parking block for almost three hours now-- since they left the gig hours ago at the pub just across the university. They’d just spent the past few hours ranting about midterms and how fucked up alienated labor is along with the absence of ethical consumption under capitalism-- and how everyone is forced to participate in it, talking about trips they’d like to make in and outside the city, their ideal lovers, and anxieties about the future. This was a thing they did now and then, usually on Fridays and Saturdays-- seeking a kind of cathartic escape from their hectic academic life in each other’s company. A friendly rendezvous they’d jokingly call dates every now and then.

He leans forward just enough to get a peek at her face, partly obscured by the mess of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. 

So she’s asleep.

His eyes dart towards their things lumped together beside her feet-- their backpacks sitting atop an A4-size sketchbook along with the last unopened beer can.

Porco idly clinks his finger against the top of the beer can he had just emptied as he breathes out a wistful sigh.

Somehow, she always reminded him of his long-gone brother. Not to say that she shared even a bit of Marcel's fairly easygoing yet charming demeanor. Because she was far from that. She was loud with a crude mouth-- more like Porco himself, really-- except that she at least was kinder, more pleasantly charismatic towards other people than himself. And in that way, yes, she did remind him of Marcel. But there were other things-- pastimes and memories that reminded him of his brother when she came to mind. They’d known each other even as kids. Back in middle school, Porco remembers how she’d visit their home on the weekends so the three of them could build a Lego city which Marcel himself had drafted on the back of one of his sketchbooks. Those two were always quite the artists even as kids-- Porco recalls fondly. His brother had been the one to introduce her to Porco during one of those weekends. He didn’t like it at first-- how Marcel would seem to pay more attention to her at times as they animatedly sketched parts of the city on paper in the middle of assembling the Lego blocks. He’d eventually learned to be tolerant of her presence at least as the weekends passed by and the city gradually came to life-- vast with skyscrapers, houses, trees, vehicles, and lamp posts. Porco distinctly remembers building a garden with her beside a house that resembled the Galliard residence. He had assembled the green pieces that resembled leaf blades onto the flat Lego board, while she topped them off with tiny colorful flower pieces. It was honestly quite fun and it became a thing he eventually looked forward to on the weekends with Marcel.

But all things come to an end and at times, at points where they feel like they’re not supposed to. Porco knows this well.

In Marcel’s old room, the city remains hidden away, unfinished.

It was on a rainy day when Marcel had met an accident on his way home with a schoolmate. Onlookers had witnessed him racing against the red light to push Reiner away from the path of an incoming vehicle.

Even if it was an accident, Porco despises Reiner after that. He'd decided to never talk to him after the incident but as fate would ridiculously have it, they’d meet again in high school-- as classmates, nonetheless, to his dismay.

It was after this same incident that Porco had grown closer to her-- the only other person who possibly knew Marcel almost nearly as he himself did. She knew about the city and she knew about his sketches, after all. In the first few days after his brother’s wake, they’d simply talk about Marcel as they walked home together after school and how they both missed him. Those walks home would eventually involve detours at the nearest Mcdonald’s where they’d get nuggets and buy a Happy Meal-- the ones that came in flimsy cardboard packaging printed with colorful cartoon mascots-- for the sake of getting the collectibles that came with them. It was a thing they never really grew out of. Even now, as college kids, whenever they’d find themselves eating out together at the nearest Mcdonald’s after their Philosophy classes scheduled on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they’d get themselves a Happy Meal, even if they sometimes earned puzzled looks from the cashier as they engaged in quick, petty quarrels as to which collectible they should get.

Soon, Porco feels her shuffle in her seat beside him, the weight of her head now off his shoulder. She rubs the sleep off her eyes with a yawn.

“...should go home,” she drawls, accidentally kicking one of the empty beer cans sprawled in front of them on the concrete. It lands right at the feet of a passer-by who in turn shoots her a cold glare before kicking the can back in her direction. "I-- hey, uh, sorry about that," she apologizes, louder than necessary. Said passer-by only clicks their tongue in annoyance as they raised a middle finger at her before walking away with a muffled swear under their breath.

She exchanges incredulous, befuddled looks with Porco for a few silent moments before eventually letting out a snort and bursting into a fit of stupidly drunken laughter with him. 

“...is what I mean… fucking capitalism... makesnasshole out ofveryone,” she remarks, broken phrases drawn out in between chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I got it for the tenth time,” Porco says, laughing with a roll of his eyes. He stands up and stretches out a hand in front of her. “Now can we go home? Can’t exactly start a revolution when the alcohol’s fucked you up that bad,” he says with an impatient sigh.

“Yeah? How do you know? Did Karl Marx write that?” She languidly takes his hand.

“No, but-- fucking… well, I don’t know. Maybe? Indirectly? I mean, we did just give in to consumerism,” Porco says with a sharp click of his tongue as he pulls her up to stand.

“Well… yeah. I guess so.”

“Anyway.” Porco places a palm at the top of her head and urges her to face him. “You seem more out of it than me. I’m walking you home this time, alright?

”She shrugs languidly. “Sure, whatever,” she says, her words muffled as she falls face first into his chest. 

--

“Give me the fucking keys,” he says coarsely after her third failed attempt at unlocking the door to her own flat. In the dim light of the hall, Porco tries to make out the shape of what he recognizes as the right one among the five keys dangling from her keychain. He sighs, frustrated as he finally unlocks the door. 

“How the hell did you--?” Confused, she eyes the keys still dangling from the door. “Why wouldn’t it open when it was me?”

“For the love of--” Porco runs a palm down across his face with an exasperated sigh. “You were forcing the wrong key.”

“Oh.” She snorts trying to stifle a chuckle. Porco pulls the keys from the door and hands them to her along with the sketchbook he’d been carrying.

“Thanks.” She gives the door a light push before finally taking a step into the flat. And then a sudden stop. She pockets her keys and lets the sketchbook fall on the carpeted floor of the foyer. She tilts her head pensively for a few moments, staring blankly at the darkness of her room. Porco raises an eyebrow in confusion. She turns on her heel to face him again.

“What is it?” he asks.

She stands on the tips of her toes, eyeing Porco with what felt to him like newfound curiosity. She rests a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

Her other hand soon reaches up to cradle the side of his face. It comes as a surprise, but not the kind that made you flinch or visibly react in some way. This was simply… unexpected. Weird. And somehow new.

She’s looking at me. And she’s looking like she’s waiting.

And what is she waiting for, exactly? He feels a nervous lump in his throat, swallows it down. He has half the mind to lean his face closer as he, too, looks at her-- and he looks at her like he’s waiting.

Alas, whatever this is-- it ends where it feels like it’s not supposed to.

“‘Night, Porco,” she says with a feeble smile before falling back flatly on her feet.

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” he says, tentatively glancing at his side.She crouches down to lazily pick up the sketchbook before finally entering her flat again. Porco catches her giving him a tiny wave through the crack of the door moments before she completely pushes it closed. He bids her goodbye with a curt nod.

Once the door closes, he rolls up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. 

3:15 AM. Porco raises a palm to his cheek. The ghost of her touch lingers on his skin.

***

“Are you serious?” Porco scoffs. “Y/N, you’re not even watching the film.” He leans his head against his palm with his arm resting on the side of the couch.

“Sure I am,” she says, unpinning her hair before letting her head fall on his lap. As she types out a message on her phone, Porco manages to make out Pieck’s name at the top of the chat box.

“You keep checking your phone.”

“It’s fine. We’ve both seen this film before anyway. I told you-- I’m just rewatching it for my paper on Nietzsche.”

“So you dragged me into this for what?”

She gives a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know. Felt like it. Just wanted to bother you for a good film.” She finally sets aside her phone to look up at Porco with a shit-eating grin. He sighs and flicks a finger against her forehead. “Ow. What the fuck.”

“At least try to look like you’re actually watching,” Porco says, turning her head to face the TV screen.

"Fine, fine," she says with a grimace as she kneads the pain away on her forehead.

They’re now about an hour into Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. As lovers Joel and Clementine ran through the memories-- hand in hand mapping the history of their relationship-- the ups and downs-- scenes of the two playfully mocking the film at a drive-in theater, a stroll through the flea market leading into talks of having a child, lovemaking underneath the covers as Clementine told Joel about her insecurities rooting from childhood-- all these small intimacies that nonetheless revealed to each other their flawed, detestable selves along with reasons they probably shouldn’t be together, Porco realizes it. 

He looks at her, notes the way the flicker of the TV screen daintily lit up her solemn face and how she’d break into a smile every now and then. She’d brush the back of her hand against his knee and point at the TV screen to tell him that this was among her favorite parts so he absolutely had to pay close attention. A bit funny considering she was the one who wasn’t paying much attention to the film during the first part, Porco thinks. At least she’s watching now, even as he can’t help but watch her instead.

As he absentmindedly brushes a hand against her hair, he wonders if they could be something more, wonders if they’d be anything like Joel and Clementine-- imperfect, but nonetheless worthwhile. They’d known each other since they were kids and he can definitely make a list of things he doesn’t like about her-- like the way she’s too loud and frisky and never seemed to take the right things seriously, how scatterbrained she was that she’d forget the schedule for a midterm exam and how her room always seemed to be in shambles, the way she was so stubborn she’d easily get upset at something as simple as choosing to eat at a fast food different from the one she insisted on, how she’d smoke in his dorm no matter how many times he’d told her that she could get him in trouble for it. But it's not like he's perfect either. She’d told him that he came on too headstrong at times and that’s why a lot of people felt intimidated by him-- a trait that had gotten him into fights and eventually, long afternoons of detention back in high school. She says she hates the way he thought himself too strong to cry in front of anyone and how he’d grown dismissive of opening up to her as they got older. Whenever they’d get into heated fights, she’d tell him that all you ever are is angry and how he was pretty shit at saying sorry like he meant it. And despite all of these, they had remained close friends over the years. They’d promised each other that they’d get better-- slowly, but surely-- even if that was something easier said than done. He could live with that. He would.

***

“Hey, uh--” Porco breathes out a puff of smoke as he hands her the cigarette. He gazes distantly at the parade of city lights before them-- from the headlamps of the vehicles passing below them on the bridge, the streetlights, and the buildings overhead. “--do you still like Pieck?”

She suddenly lets out a cough and a puff of smoke at that. She gapes at Porco incredulously.

“Pock, it’s been three years since we broke up. And that was high school.”

“Look, I know that, but--” he sighs. “I was just wondering.”

She laughs. “That’s not really what you wanted to ask, is it? There’s something else.” She raises an eyebrow at Porco. He rolls his eyes at that, irked at how easily she could read him. “So ask.” She passes him the cigarette and he takes a drag of it.

“Ok--” he says with a sigh. “--Have you liked any other girls after her?”

She raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“No, not really. Nothing serious, at least. I mean, I did have a crush on this girl who sat beside me in English class during freshman year. But... that was freshman year, you know? Nothing ever really came of it. And you know I would have told you if something actually did, anyway."

“I see.”

“There’s more you want to ask,” she says with a cheeky smile.

“Ok. Fine.” Another drag of the cigarette. “How about-- boys? Have you liked any guy at all since then?” The city lights blur against the filter of smoke. Porco refuses to meet her eyes even as he feels her gaze on him-- heavy with something he could not exactly put his finger on. He knows she’s not smiling anymore and from his periphery, he thinks he senses a swallow in her throat. She turns to the city overhead.

“Yes, actually.” She takes the cigarette from him, smiling fondly upon the light brush of their fingers. “I-- you know, even though I’ve known for a long time that I liked both guys and girls, I still find myself doubting that sometimes. When I’m attracted to a girl, I sometimes think that maybe I was just gay all along. And now that I find myself actually liking a boy again, a part of me entertains the thought that maybe me liking girls was just a phase and maybe I was straight all along. But... I just know it’s not like that. And yet, what people say still gets to me-- they’ve got a way of making you think that being bi isn’t a real thing. Even though it is. I know because... I’m real, right?”

“Yeah. You are. You’re… you’re here.” The corner of his lips turn up as he says it. “I get it. I mean, I think I’m the same.”

“Really?” She turns to gape at him.

“I suppose I’ve never told you this either because it’s so fucking embarrassing, but…” He sighs defeatedly, kneading his temples with unease. “...I made out with Reiner in high school.”

She regards him with a scandalized look.

“Dude, what the fuck. I thought you hated the guy.” 

“I do, alright? It’s just that… teenage hormones and shit. I was stupid and he’s stupid. I-- I don’t know what I was thinking that time. But… I do wonder sometimes--” He scratches his head tentatively. “--what my brother was thinking rushing in to save him from that accident. Like… just what did he see in that meathead that was worth saving?”

“And did you find your answer to that when you were making out?”

Porco eyes her with a deathly glare.

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh, so you did,” she says with an impish grin.

Porco flicks a finger against her forehead.

“Ow-- hey! Stop that,” she says with a grimace. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Reiner’s hot.”

He clicks his tongue at the remark before hastily seizing the cigarette from her grasp to take another drag. "Not like he's the only guy I ever found ho-- I mean liked."

She laughs.

"We should head back," he says coldly.

"Sure.” She nods. “Though… is there anything else you wanted to ask?"

As the filter of smoke hangs between them, Porco wonders about the boy she likes.

He shakes his head. "No. It's nothing."

***

“It was like deja vu,” Porco says, sighing into his phone as he shifts to lie near the edge of his bed. “Except in this dream… before she said goodnight, we, uh--”

“You kissed?” Pieck suggests from the other line.

“Well… yeah.” He puts a palm to cover his face, feeling the flush on his cheeks as he says it.

“So you like her,” Pieck says, almost breaking into a chuckle.

“I, uh…”

“I get it. She’s charming and reminds you of Marcel.”

“That’s…”

“I’ll be honest with you.” She sighs and Porco senses a smile from her tone. “Remember when I said I broke up with her because uni was getting too busy? The truth is that… I feel like you two always seemed to get along better than I ever could with her-- and it probably has to do with Marcel. When I realized that, I’ll admit I did start to feel jealous. I thought back then that you two might eventually get together. After all, you two were both still in high school, while I was already away in uni. It left me distraught for months so I just... decided to break it off. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s been years and it’s not like I haven’t dated anyone else since then. And in hindsight, that just might have been for the best. I mean, you confiding in me about her right now-- I think-- is a testament to that. Because you realized it too, didn’t you?”

“Oh." He pauses. "I never thought that you-- Pieck, look, I--”

“Pock, if you feel guilty about it just because I used to date her, don’t. It’s not anyone’s fault. That… that she just loved you first. It’s circumstance. She met you and Marcel first before me.”

That she loved you first. As Porco echoes the words in his head, he becomes acutely aware of the beating in his chest and the warmth swarming his face. He buries his face in a pillow and screams into it.

“Hey, Pock? You ok there?” Pieck chuckles.

“How do I-- you think I should tell her?”

“Well, it’s the honest thing to do. And I genuinely think you don’t stand to lose much by doing so. Even if by the littlest chance of her not returning your feelings, I don’t think confessing would ruin your friendship. Might be a little awkward at first, but I don’t think she’ll end up hating or avoiding you at all.”

“You sure you’re not just sayi--”

“No, Pock. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends. I’m saying it because it’s what makes sense.”

“Ok, well… thanks,” he sighs. “And by the way… I’m sorry I called you this early. I know you’re probably busy especially since it’s your thesis year.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you told me. Frankly, I do find satisfaction in knowing my speculations are correct. And you guys… you two are more predictable than you think-- if I’m being honest,” Pieck laughs.

“Well, I suppose being predictable isn’t so bad… if you’re right.”

Once they bid each other goodbye on the phone, Porco remains sprawled across the bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He rests a palm on his cheek, internally cursing Marcel as he feels the warmth streaming his face once again.

***

“Fuck,” Porco swears under his breath as they both ran towards the car, their feet splashing against the puddled ground as the rain cascades. A looming thunder rolls across the night sky as they make it to the safety of the vehicle.

“So… still not convinced that trying to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday at midnight was a bad idea?” Porco says, trying to catch his breath as he sets down the paper bag on the space between their seats.

“Well, I’ll admit it kinda sucked that you had to have your car still parked in school. And in my defense, I didn't expect the drizzle to cascade so soon on the way back. But you know what? It’s fine. We got what we needed and that’s all that matters. I’ll stand by this being a good idea.” She laughs as she peels off her drenched jacket. “Oh, by the way, where can I put this?”

“Just put it in the backseat,” Porco says as he peeled off his own jacket.

“Got it. Here, give me yours too,” she says before turning to place both of their drenched jackets in the backseat.

“Thanks.” Porco switches on the car’s dome light and the windshield wipers. The car’s interior now warmly lit, he rummages inside the paper bag, then hands her a box of chicken nuggets along with a plastic fork. “You want the fries now or later?”

“Later’s good. Thanks.” Porco acknowledges her with a nod, then leans back on the car seat with a languished sigh.

The rain patters incessantly against the windows over the rhythm of the windshield wipers. The faint yellow glow lulls from the ceiling of his car. He recalls a rainy evening spent staring out the window as he nervously waited for Marcel to come home. A distant memory weighs heavy on his eyelids.

“Porco. Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah.” Porco shifts lightly in his seat, slightly startled. “I just… remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rain. It just reminded me of Marcel.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, he was…” She puts down her food and lightly wipes the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Back then, I considered him as something a little more than a best friend. I like that he liked my drawings and how he never made fun of them… even though he was ways better than me at it,” she recalls fondly.

He scoffs. “So… are you guilt-tripping me for something I said about your drawings when we were twelve?”

“You were an asshole, but you should be glad I’m past that.” She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “All I’m saying now is that Marcel was... really special to me.”

“What-- did you have a crush on Marcel or something?”

She snorts. “You could say... it was something like that. Yeah.”

Figures. He nonchalantly crosses his arms in front of his chest. The pattering rain fills in the lull in their conversation.

“I like your drawings too,” he finally says.

“That’s why I drag you along every time I go out to draw. You like watching me, right?” She teasingly raises an eyebrow as she says it.

“Well, sure.” He shrugs awkwardly in his seat.

“Tell me. What else do you like?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see…” he sighs, feigning annoyance with a roll of his eyes. “I like it when I’m in the middle of pulling an all-nighter at Tim Hortons… and you go on and disturb me just to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday midnight.”

“Yeah?” she chuckles. “What else?”

Porco turns to glance at her. As she meets him with a playful grin, his mind races with answers.

I like it when you steal my jacket and you leave me to freeze to death in the cold of the cafe’s AC. I like it when you go on a chaotic, semi-coherent drunken rant about how badly you want capitalism dismantled. I like it when you remember Marcel. I like your hair. I like how your hands unpin your hair before you rest your head on my lap.

He scoffs-- more in reaction to his own thoughts than at her teasing. Who knew he could be that embarrassingly sappy? “What are you… getting at?”

“Nevermind.” She shakes her head, still smiling. She laughs while timidly raising a palm to her cheek. “Can we share your fries now?”

***

“So I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” Porco says, settling himself on the dormitory steps faintly lit by the porch lights hanging on both sides of the entrance.

“Cool. So where do you want it?” She sits beside him while setting down her things-- a shoulder bag and a sketchbook on the concrete step.

“I was just thinking on my arm,” he says, pointing a finger at a spot on his skin.

“What do you want it to look like?”

“Not sure yet.”

“I could draw you one.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. I could do it right now.”

“Really?”

She takes the ballpoint pen out of the spring of her sketchbook and begins to doodle something on his arm. Covering her drawing with a cupped palm, she chuckles while mischievously peering up at him.

“I swear to god, if you’re drawing something embarrassing-- Oh, fuck you.” Porco laughs, managing to take a peek at the ink drawing of a cartoon porcupine with the hair on its head stylishly pushed back. Below the drawing, it writes 'porcopine.' He pulls his arm away from her grasp.

"What? You don't like it?" She grimaces.

"Porcopine? Really?"

“What? It's cute,” she says with an offended click of her tongue, reaching for his arm once again.

Below the word 'porcopine,' she then writes the phrase 'i <3 you.'

Porco furrows his brows upon reading the phrase, then lets out a chuckle. “What does this--?” he asks, pointing out the inked words on his skin.

“What do you mean? It is what it is.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“How do you mean it?”

She tilts her head pensively and squints at Porco as she gathers how to describe exactly what she meant. She supposes that he’s right-- a clarification was indeed necessary. This kind of thing could get confusing, after all. When you’ve known each other for so long in a relationship such as this, lines tend to blur. One day, you could both feel like the bestest of friends, and then like lovers the next.

“I mean it in a way that I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

“Oh.” Porco gapes at her for a moment. “Ok,” he says, letting out an awkward chuckle.

“What’s with that reaction? I’m serious, Pock.”

“I just… I mean, to be honest…” He furrows his brows, carefully pondering his words. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you either.” Porco scratches his head sheepishly.

“Ok then,” she chuckles, shifting in her seat to face him. “We could build something. Something bigger than a Lego house. Maybe one with a garden. A story with a perfect ending.”

“Yeah? And if it’s not perfect, what then?”

“Something worthwhile, then. An ending that feels like an ending.”

“Ok. I can live with that,” he laughs.

“Porco.”

As she cradles his face in between her palms, Porco becomes acutely aware of the flush in his cheeks.

Then, slowly, she leans closer to gingerly place a kiss at the tip of his nose.

They soon find themselves both chuckling at what was probably the most blatantly romantic gesture between them thus far.

“So, uh, what are we now, exactly?” he asks awkwardly as they soon pull away.

She shrugs. “Lovers? Best friends who would marry each other? Though the latter is kind of a mouthful if you ask me.”

“Yeah. Let’s go with that first one.”

“Say, Porco.” She tilts her head questioningly at him. “You want to tell me how this night ends?”

“How the hell should I--”

She puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. “Hey. Lovers now, remember? I’m not the only one telling this story. So tell me.”

“Ok. Let’s see,” he sighs. And so he indulges her. “It ends with you beside me. We’re lying down on my bed.”

“Clothed or naked?”

He gapes. “Are you seriously even consi--”

She flicks a finger against his forehead as she regards him with a mischievous smile. “Just answer the question.”

“Ok, fine,” he resigns, lightly kneading his forehead. “Look, I want to say naked because my AC’s broken ri--”

“Naked it is, then.”

“Clothed.” He glares. “For tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, scratching her head in resignation. “You sure you’re not having second thoughts about letting me stay tonight, though? Not worried you might wake up with a bunch of porcopines on your face? Or I don’t know-- dick drawings?”

“Fuck off,” he says with a chuckle.

“So… what is it, really? You want me to stay or you want me to go?”

Porco sighs before slowly leaning his face closer to hers.

“I want you to stay,” he says against her cheek, before placing a chaste kiss on her skin. “Whatever I wake up to in the morning, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

[wizkiddx]

i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

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

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream. 

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself)  ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned. 

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes. 

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily. 

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting. 

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.” 

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds. 

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile. 

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out. 

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself. 

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl-  he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it. 

“Will you chill please?” 

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner. 

Home for 5 weeks. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully. 

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came. 

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have. 

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was  so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle. 

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face. 

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.” 

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted. 

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee. 

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. 

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself? 

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers. 

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle  of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side. 

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation. 

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm’; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show. 

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you. 

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning. 

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it. 

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank. 

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open.  Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear? 

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle. 

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced. 

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile. 

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt. 

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head. 

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.” 

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different. 

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle. 

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

This is for @feetoffthetable ‘s 500 follower writing challenge. Congratulations again on 500!!

hope you like it.

prompts:

“What happened to their happily ever after?”

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

warnings: angst, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.1k

tag list: @cupidpoison @marvelhoesworld @wonderful-writer

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Almost every girl can remember the days where they’d dream of their fairytale romance. Dancing, a prince charming and a kiss in the moonlight as every problem faded away; A thrilling fight between the lovers and the evil villain ending with the two wrapped in each other’s arms. Despite being muggle tales, the wizarding world had also grown to adore these stories, smiles widening on even grown witches' faces with each ‘once upon a time.’

You’d grown up reading about maidens being swept off their feet into the arms of their knight in shining armor, fate seemed to encompass every story you laid your eyes on, so when Fred Weasley entered your life, with a charming smile and a playfulness that had you wanting more, you couldn’t help but fall.

And so began the pining. Stares across the classroom at the wave of red hair, crossing your fingers when group projects were announced, peeking down corridors to see if you could catch the prankster twins in action, and daydreaming from dawn till dusk. You could barely get words past your lips if he ever smiled in your direction. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. Doodling his name on parchment became common, and dreams of dancing with him plagued your mind. You were young, and in love. You could almost feel your fairy godmother pushing you towards him, fairy tale magic coursing through your veins whenever your eyes would meet.

It took a couple years, but you found your voice. Starting small with congratulations after quidditch games, an occasional joke during classes, a couple more smiles here and there.

The unrequited love, became returned. Fred Weasley thought you were just the shy girl from his transfiguration class, quiet and meek. When you built up the confidence to strike up conversations and joke about Snape’s hair, he found himself hanging onto your every word.

The older twin went from not knowing your name to looking forward to even his most boring classes just to catch a glimpse of your face. Making you smile became his mission, and Godric did he love it when your face would completely light up. Not just a small smirk, but when your eyes sparkle, your lips pull up far enough to see your teeth and your cheeks go a bit pink, that was most definitely his favourite sight.

Even the most enchanting storybook couples would stare amazed at the adoration Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n shared for each other. Two best friends pining for the other without realizing the mutual warmth that had grown. Spending countless hours together, hiding their flushed cheeks, sweaty palms and loving eyes to enjoy every moment spent together.

When the Yule ball was announced Fred had fallen flat on his face running up to ask you. He’d spotted you in the clock tower courtyard with one of your friends and he knew immediately, you were the only person he’d want to go with. He sprinted up to you intending to drop to his knee and ask, but his foot got caught in the stone and he fell for you the second time. Now any other person may have lost hope and ran away, but Fred Weasley was determined to make the most of it, rebounding it with a cheesy pick up line, In true Fred fashion.

Cinderella would’ve glared in jealousy when the two of you waltzed across the dance floor. Not only was the night magical, but it was awkward, nervous, and fun. It didn’t seem like the far fetched dance at the end of a film, it felt real. You’d step on his toes and he’d shuffle his hand around your waist, but when it came down to it, you didn’t care. You really did feel like a princess dancing in the arms of her lover, swaying to the beautiful music as other students starred in awe at the two gryffindors gliding around the room, laughing happily while moving their feet in a mesmerizing waltz.

That night Fred Weasley finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he got down on his knee in the middle of the dance floor, pouring his heart out to you, his confession wiping even the soliloquies of Romeo Montague out of the water.

“Y/n, from the moment you started to talk to me in our third year, I fell. You make me smile, laugh, blush and always know how to cheer me up. Honestly, why didn’t you start talking to me sooner? I never knew how much I needed you, but my eyes have been cleared, my feelings in tune and now I’m asking you on the dance floor to maybe take this foolish man to be your prince?”

Droplets emerged from your eyes as you shook your head up and down, happy tears flowing free as you pulled the red-head up again.

The entire student body had paused to take in the scene before them, watching in surprise as Fred Weasley stood to his feet to dip the girl with tear stained cheeks into a low kiss, only standing again to catch his breath before stealing you away out the door.

You’d give anything to go back to that night. The seed of young adoration finally blossoming into a flower of love. Love so true, beautiful and pure you’d probably blind anyone who saw. You ran through the halls to Black Lake, dancing to the beats of your hearts in the embrace of your love, swaying in the moonlight as puzzle pieces of your life finally seemed to fall into place and stars aligned.

Holding your love in your arms is a feeling so surreal and fantastic, something that has an addicting property that you couldn’t help but crave. When Fred’s arms surrounded you, you didn’t feel trapped, enclosed, barricaded. You felt free, as though you could fly.

It is hard to define love, but what was between the redhead prankster and gryffindor dreamer painted a clear picture for anyone to see. Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred grew more in love with you with each passing day and his desire to see the smile upon your face never faded.

Your love for your prince charming was something that would never be taken away from you. Everyday took your breath away and every time Fred smiled at you, your brain seemed to turn to mush, the childhood pining never seemed to leave.

Your last year at Hogwarts brought about some problems, with the monstrous pink toad and Fred’s tendencies for trouble, you could say difficulties were inevitable. Nights where Fred snuck into your dorm broken down, tired, and ready to collapse became frequent, especially after he was banned from the quidditch team. Fred was hesitant to reveal his sensitivity, but with cuts across his hands and the loss of his favourite activity, he was willing to lose it all just to rest in your arms again. Many nights he’d run to you, exhausted and restless. You’d hold him close, soothe him the best you could and heal his wounds to the best of your abilities. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t need to talk. Fred was content laying on your chest as you fussed over him, pressing kisses across his freckled face and mumbling rather choice words under your breath about the pink devil as you gently caressed his injured hand as light as a butterfly.

You were the first person he’d told his scheme to leave Hogwarts to, begging you to go with him and start a new life in a place he’d dreamt of since he was a child. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree, but how could you not? It’s not like you had much planned. Anyways, you were tired of the pain Fred had to endure during the past year, so if he was ready to leave, so were you.

You’d compare flying a broom into the sky as fireworks flashed behind you, to riding into the sunset on the back of a stallion, but yours was so much cooler. Fred had grabbed you from the floor and pulled you onto his broom, you clutched onto him for dear life as he and George flew their last victory lap and destroyed every last horrid plaque of rules that hung on the walls of the school of magic. Another feeling of freedom was evident throughout the entire building as victorious cheers sound from every window.

This was definitely better than a ride into the sunset.

Life with the twins in Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes couldn’t be defined by just one word. It was exciting, chaotic and the most fun you’ve had in your life. Designing product boxes and using charms was more of your strong suit while the boys caused explosion after explosion, perfecting their concoctions. As weeks turned into months, you and Fred felt as though you were really living a couple’s life. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arm without the worry of being caught, making and eating breakfast to tunes on the radio, dancing to a record player as day bled into night and your feet finally got sore.

This is how fairy tale characters must feel after their story ends, you’d think every day, happy and so deeply in love, relishing every moment together and at peace.

You’d finally been introduced to Mrs. Weasley that coming Christmas, her tender love really made you feel welcome and almost moved you to tears.

“It’s nice to see Freddie finally found someone who loves him as much as you do, I can see it in your eyes darling, you’re perfect for him.”

Fred never understood why they said ‘fall’ in love, sure you may feel your senses fade at times but it was never like a fall. If it made sense he’d say he rose into love for you. You brought him to cloud nine, you raised his spirits whenever you joked with him when he was down. You raised the corners of his lips into a smile by just existing. You raised him further towards his dreams and supported him no matter what. Ironically, he dropped to his knee to propose to you, just like he had in your sixth year at the Yule Ball, once again pouring his heart out to you, this time to truly make you his.

“Here we are again, love.” He laughed as he fell to his knee behind you in a muggle park not too far from Diagon Alley.

“Darling, I love you. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You push me towards my dreams, comfort me when I’m upset, and make me smile every single day. I realized how much I needed you back in our sixth year, but today I ask you to seal the deal and become, y/n Weasley?”

It is hard to define love, so many forms of it, so many ways to express it and spread it to the people around you, but when Fred Weasley proposed to you, people looked over and felt the unconditional love between two people that brought tears to their eyes. When Fred Weasley looked at you, you were his everything. His past, present and future, his calm during a storm, his brightest star.

When Y/n said yes, you could hear the love of the purest of heart. The love of a best friend and a partner.

Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred could now ensure a smile on your face for the rest of your days, and the childhood pining could finally rest knowing you would be with this man forever.

When the war finally pulled the wizarding world into the dark, the prankster and the dreamer knew they wouldn’t be able to stand to the side. They needed to help bring back the peace, and they would fight beside the people they cared about. The wedding was postponed until further notice, but it was sworn on a pinky promise that as soon as the chaos was over, you’d pick up where you left off and walk down the aisle in your white dress.

As you stood on the Hogwarts school ground, death eaters on every side and Voldemort cackling maniacally, you reached out for your prince’s hand. Closing your eyes to regain your calm before you had to charge into the incoming fight. Fred had squeezed your hand before pressing his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Looking back, you should’ve held Fred there with you, by your side throughout the entire fight. You should have kept your hands interlocked, standing tall by each other’s side, an unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

Instead the two of you charged forward separated, fighting close, but by your friends’ sides, throwing spell after spell to inch closer to a brighter future. Pain didn’t matter, each wave of your wand could be a step closer to a happy tomorrow.

It was almost thrilling fighting by your classmate, protecting them brought a new sense of purpose to your being and drowned out everything else to focus on the task at hand. Things were turning your way, Neville slayed that dreaded snake, Harry returned, Voldemort would never win now right? Everything would turn out fine. Right?

How wrong you were.

Victory was within reach, death eaters were filtering into smaller numbers and your friends were still alive. Your head was swivelling for your love, the only thought on your mind being to find your prince, your knight, the love of your life. The flash of red hair was just ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel was right there. You called out his name and his head whipped to meet yours. Your eyes met and you could see your future, your wedding, a family, growing old with this man.

Then the rubble fell, and in a flash, everything was taken away from you.

It is hard to define love, but when witches and wizards heard the shrill cry of a heart being torn in half, they could feel the love y/n l/n held for Fred Weasley. The pure, unconditional love that would’ve withstanded the test of time and any problem life could throw her way. The love that had so much hope many people turned away, it was too much to bear. The love that had you digging even though your hands were scabbed and bleeding.

Now when you ask how Fred Weasley showed his love in this scenario, the only thing to say was he died with a smile on his face. He died knowing his last sight was the love of his life running towards him, ready to turn to the next chapter of their lives.

You dug through the rock frantically, grasping onto the hope that for some divine reason Fred could be alive.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end, your prince was supposed to wrap you into your arms and every problem was supposed to melt away, you were supposed to marry, kiss in front of all your family and friends and live the rest of your days together.

Realization hit you like a speeding train, you were never going to walk down the aisle to see Fred’s reaction to you in a white dress, you were never going to hold your child in your arms and see Fred become the amazing father you knew he would become. You were never going to see him grey and old, still a prankster and still deeply in love. You were never going to feel his lips against yours ever again. Hear his whispers in your ear about how much he loved you, or his melodic laugh that brought butterflies to your stomach every time.

Turns out, the villain of your story wasn’t unrequited love, it wasn’t Umbridge or even Voldemort. It was something even more cruel and insufferable. Death is not something humans really understand, even the most powerful witches and wizards cannot deny that death will come upon you, it is inevitable. There is so much about death we do not understand. All we know is one minute they’re here, the next they’re gone. But you might say, this is a fairy tale, there’s bound to be a happy solution and our lovers will get their happy ending. No, this is reality and our lovers were not that lucky, and the loss of half a heart is not something to be taken lightly.

“No.”

When Fred’s body was retrieved, you were joined by the rest of the Weasley family in their grieving, and while you could never understand what it would be like to lose a brother and a son, you’d lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your days with, and that left a hole in your heart never to be repaired, never to heal.

To lose a lover, but to hold their lifeless body in your arms is a surreal feeling you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, it’s something that has the power to break even the strongest people and make the most positive lose hope. Every ounce of love in your being spilt through tears that held every wish and hope you’ve ever had. That day you lost your feeling of freedom, and a sick sense of being trapped plagued your every move.

This isn’t how the story was supposed to end.

“What happened to their ‘happily ever after?” A young girl asks her father.

“Well young y/n, as you may know you were named after the very girl who fell in love with my brother and lost everything. Some say she died of a broken heart, others say Freddie came back and took her away to paradise.” An older George Weasley smiles down at his young daughter, snuggled in blankets, clutching a picture frame in her small hands.

“But why couldn’t uncle Fred come back? I thought every fairy tale ends with a happily ever after, those were aunt y/n’s favourite stories right?” Young y/n’s brown eyes flash in confusion and hurt as she lowers the photo of you to her lap.

“Yes, they were her favourite. There was no doubt her and Fred had a love greater than any fairy tale, but not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes it’s just a ‘once upon a time.”

[fridayfirefly]

Bruises

Read Bruises on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 30 - Goodbye

Bruce picked up his phone on the second ring. It wasn't unusual for him to get phone calls at eleven o'clock at night - he was a busy man, after all. What was unusual was the fact that the call was from an unknown number. Bruce very rarely gave out his personal number. "Hello?"

"Bruce?" a tiny voice questioned through the phone.

"Emilie?" Bruce recognized her voice, even though it had been ten years since the last time he spoke to Emilie Graham de Vanily (now Emilie Agreste). He never knew what had happened to her, just that one day she stopped answering his emails and her phone number was disconnected. Bruce wanted to reconnect with her, but at the time it seemed like Emilie chose not to speak to him on purpose.

"I'm sorry for calling so late at night. I know we haven't spoken in a long time, but I'm in Gotham and I need your help."

Bruce didn't hesitate for even a moment. "What do you need?"

Twenty minutes later, Bruce pulled up in front of Gotham International Airport. He didn't recognize Emilie at first, not until he got out of the car and she called his name.

"Bruce!" Emilie had changed. What surprised Bruce was that the first thing he noticed was not the black eye that marred her face, but the little blonde boy who stood at her side.

"Hello, Emilie," said Bruce, pointedly ignoring the fact that she hadn't told him about her son.

"Hello, Bruce. This is Adrien," she introduced.

"Hello." Adrien greeted Bruce quietly, his eyes trained at the ground. The white cast on his arm was decorated with little doodles. Bruce assumed that Emilie had drawn them with the pen she tucked behind her ear.

They all got into Bruce's car with little fanfare. Emilie sat in the passenger seat. Adrien sat in the back and was asleep before they left the parking lot.

"Did your husband give you that black eye?"

Emilie didn't waste words explaining the situation. "Yes."

"What about Adrien's arm?"

"I told Gabriel a long time ago that if he ever touched Adrien, I would leave him. Either he forgot or didn't believe me. I'm keeping true to my word. In the morning I'm going to a lawyer to file for divorce papers and a restraining order, and to press charges for Adrien's arm."

Bruce nodded, "I have a whole team of lawyers that you can use." He kept his eyes fixed on the road even though all he wanted to do was stare at her. It had been ten long years since he had seen her face to face.

Bruce first met Emilie during his junior year at Gotham University. He'd been a mess before that. He could barely stay sober long enough to go to class, and his grades were a testament to that fact. Emilie Graham de Vanily came to Gotham University as part of her study abroad program, in which she would spend two semesters at an American university, then return to Paris to finish her degree. She was Bruce's exact opposite: no-nonsense and dedicated to her studies.

The first time Bruce met Emilie, she slapped him in the face. It was the first day of the semester, and he was incredibly hungover. He only showed up to get the syllabus so he knew what the best days to skip were. Bruce sat down next to Emilie Agreste and started flirting with her, an action he had gotten very good at over his years at Gotham University. Emilie told him three times to knock it off, getting increasingly less polite until she eventually slapped him across the face and stormed out of the classroom.

Emilie must have slapped some sense back into Bruce because decided to apologize. She didn't forgive him immediately, but after a few weeks of sitting together in class, they decided to study together. By the end of the semester, they were meeting up every weekend to hang out. Bruce stopped drinking so much, started going back to Wayne Manor on the weekends, started talking to Alfred again.

Bruce asked Emilie out at the beginning of her second semester. To Bruce's disappointment, Emilie declined, but with a gleam in her eye that let Bruce know that there was a chance that their relationship could become more than platonic. They spent the semester together, sharing meals and inside jokes, study rooms and secrets. Bruce was certain that when he asked her out a second time, as they both stood in the airport, waiting for Emilie's flight to Paris to board, she would say yes. Instead, Emilie pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him, "Third time's the charm, Bruce." Then she got on her flight and they never spoke again.

Bruce found out three months later that she was recently engaged. He was never sent a wedding invitation. He tried his best to forget her entirely, after that.

"We're here," Bruce broke the silence as he parked the car in front of Wayne Manor.

From the backseat, Adrien rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Maman?" he mumbled.

Emilie got out of the car and opened up the backseat, helping Adrien to his feet. "Tu es en sécurité, mon fils," she whispered to him, assuring her that he was safe here.

Alfred opened up the front door and welcomed Emilie and Adrien into the house, offering to escort them to their rooms. Bruce was suddenly reminded of the time difference between Paris and Gotham. 1 AM in Gotham was 7 AM in Paris - early morning. It had been at least 24 hours since Emilie and Adrien last slept.

"Are you sure we should go?" asked Emilie, yawning through her sentence.

"Of course. I'll get everything for the lawyers taken care of by morning."

Emilie nodded. "Thank you, Bruce."

Emilie and Adrien left the foyer, following Alfred. Bruce made his way to his office and got to work.

Some time later, Alfred entered the room. “Miss Graham de Vanily and her son have just gone to bed.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You should go too."

Bruce shook his head. "I have too much work to do. I need this paperwork ready for my lawyers in the morning." At the top of his desk were divorce papers for Emilie, papers for the termination of parental rights, and two restraining orders, one for Adrien and one for Emilie, both against Gabriel Agreste.

"What you need, is some sleep. You'll be no use to Emilie and Adrien if you're dead on your feet tomorrow morning."

Bruce sighed, casting one last glance at the half-filled forms. "Alright."

----------

At the breakfast table the next morning, Adrien and Dick had become fast friends.

“If you were a superhero, what would your name be?” Dick quizzed the younger boy.

“That depends on what my powers are.”

Dick wrinkled his nose in objection. “You don’t need powers to be a superhero, you just need training.”

Bruce was certain that he had said the same thing to Dick at one point. Dick heeded the words like gospel - now he spent most of his free time training to be Batman's partner. Though Bruce had already told Dick that he wasn't allowed to fight crime until he was thirteen, Dick seemed to think that enough skill might make up for the two-year difference.

"Okay. What would your superhero name be?" asked Adrien

“I would be called Robin, after Robin Hood.”

“I’ll be called Peregrine. Did you know that the peregrine falcon is the fastest type of bird? They can reach speeds of up to 240 miles per hour. I learned that from one of Mom's movies."

Bruce could recall that Emilie narrated a few nature documentaries in her rather brief film career.

Emilie walked into the kitchen, her black eye hidden by a thick layer of concealer. "Good morning, boys." She looked a bit startled, and Bruce realized that he hadn't told her about Dick.

"Emilie, could I talk to you in my office?"

"Sure."

As they made their way down the hall, Emilie remarked to Bruce, "You didn't tell me you had a son."

"I was.... distracted, last night. I adopted Richard a few months back. I was there when his parents died and he reminded me of myself when I was his age."

Emilie nodded. "I'm glad Adrien has someone to talk to here."

They continued down the hall, stopping at the door to Bruce's office.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk about?" asked Emilie as she entered his office.

Bruce held up the forms on his desk. "Divorce papers, restraining orders, termination of parental rights, and a police report for the injuries he caused. I wanted to know which papers you wanted to be filed and when. "

"I want them all filed, as soon as possible." Emilie's voice was hard.

"Are you sure?" Bruce didn't want to ask, but he felt the need to double-check.

"Bruce, I spent ten years of my life with Gabriel. I let him manipulate me into thinking that he was a good man. And he had his good days. There were days when I remembered why I fell in love with him in the first place. He was so passionate..." Emilie's wistful voice turned cold. "But passion turned to obsession, love turned to hate, and he couldn't stand me but he couldn't let me go either. I was willing to give him second chances when I was his only victim, but I can't let him get away with hurting Adrien. If I don't leave now, if I let him get away with even one of the bruises he's given me, then Adrien and I will never be free of him."

Bruce nodded. "We can get to work on these after breakfast."

"Wait." Emilie gently grabbed his elbow. Bruce turned to face her. "Once the divorce is finalized..." Emilie paused and took a deep breath. "Remember what I said at the airport, when we were both young?"

Bruce nodded and quoted her, "You told me: 'Third time's the charm, Bruce.'"

Emilie gave him a small smile. "Third time's the charm. If you still want me, ask me again."

Bruce knew that Emilie had been through a lot these past few days. He didn't want her to make a decision she would later regret. "Are you sure?"

"I've said goodbye to you one too many times, Bruce. I never want to say goodbye to you again."

There was a deep, earnest honesty in her eyes. Bruce knew that there was no longer anything holding her back. There wasn't anything holding him back, either. "Whatever you need, Emilie, I'll give it to you."

Emilie smiled, a hopeful look on her face. "Tell me I can stay."

"Forever."

@maribatmarch-2k21

[nctsjiho]

Relationships with: WayV

Click here for: NCT 127, NCT U, NCT Dream, WayV

Kun:

MOVE!

I-

These two~~~

Unexpectedly the duo you never knew you wanted needed

For the longest time they weren’t in any groups together and didn’t have many practises in common (besides NCT 2018 stuff)

They usually would just say hi in passing, but never really hang out if it wasn’t for multiple members going out to eat

But one day JiHo approached Kun asking him for a favour

He found out the reason why they didn’t talk a lot was because JiHo felt really shy around him for some reason

“I don’t know, I just felt too nervous around him” (JiHo during a random Vlive)

Near the end of 2020 a video got released on the NCT YouTube channel of JiHo singing with Kun accompanying her on the piano

You could somewhat say it was JiHo’s debut as a vocalist

Kun said that he didn’t see it as a favour, but that it was an honour JiHo chose him to do this with her   (///.-) I’m not crying heh-  

Ever since then they have been very comfortable around each other

JiHo praises him a lot on his vocals, piano and producing skills

Kun praises her on her vocals as well and has become another of her vocal coaches/supporter

JiHo said that if it weren’t for Kun, she would have never posted a vocal cover. “All the guys are supportive but Kun pushes me to better my skills so I can comfortably show them to NCTzens” ^^ I’m blushing this is cute

People ship them platonically after the cover and want them to put out more, but with both of them singing together

Ten:

Loves teasing JiHo

Dance partners

“JiHo is such a good dancer guys!” (Instagram Live with Yangyang)

Speaks up immediately when someone says something bad about JiHo

Jeno physically protects her, but Ten isn’t afraid to tear someone down with words (the members have to calm him down whenever it happens because he gets really worked up)

Jokes around a lot with JiHo during practise

Another one who brings out the chaos in JiHo

JiHo X WayV is just a bad idea in general, no manager can calm them down once they get started I feel sorry for the WayV managers

The two often butt heads, but they also make up quickly because they’re too close of friends <3

Learns her Thai and she’s pretty good!

Makes fun of her a lot though, but he also tells her how great she’s doing

Is happy that he’s no longer the person who knows the most languages in the group. During variety shows they test JiHo more often and he doesn’t have to rack his brain switching from language to language

Share mutual respect for each other

Winwin:

Has a soft spot for Winwin (like everyone else does) but isn’t overly affectionate and he appreciates that

Was awkward with JiHo for a while, but then she started learning Chinese. He noticed how much effort she put in to become accepted in NCT as the only girl. Now he doesn’t feel awkward anymore

He looks up to her because she’s so hardworking

Share a lot of cute fan favourite moments, usually where they are in the background of videos or vlives laughing together

They spent a lot of time practising dances together and said he’d like to dance together with her for an NCT Dance video

Lucas:

Robbed from being Dreamies together

Was sad he couldn’t join NCT Dream, but was about to sue SM for not letting JiHo be in Dream

Spoils JiHo a lot!

Gives her expensive gifts such as shoes, handbags, jewellery, etc. (she tells him not to but he still does anyway)

Only 1 year older but acts like JiHo is a baby

Lucas said that he wants to model with her for Vogue or Dazed or some fancy fashion magazine like that

Says that JiHo is the only one who matches his visuals

“I thought our members were good looking, but JiHo has set the bar too high and I think I’m the only one who’s up to her standards.”

JiHo will not for the life of her acknowledge the fact that he said that on national television (also disagrees because Renjun, Jaemin, Doyoung and Jungwoo exist)

JiHo calls Lucas Prince a lot, because she thinks he’s very handsome

JiHo sometimes ignores some of the boys’ calls, but answers Lucas every time, no hesitation

Is the one who called her Jihyun for a few months when he first got to know her, even though everyone kept on correcting him, he kept forgetting  -_-

Now the members call her Jihyun teasingly

Xiaojun:

JiHo thinks he’s really cool

They always talk in front of the practise room, when one comes out of practise and the other was waiting to go in

Group members have to physically separate them, because they zone everyone else out when talking to each other

Love going out to eat together, or just go to a cafe and talk

JiHo will actually join WayV to visit Xiaojun while he’s filming a drama

(JiHo isn’t allowed to do that anymore, definitely after not telling one of her manager that she was flying to China to see Xiaojun, poor manager almost had a heart attack when he couldn’t find her and she didn’t pick up her phone for 3 hours ;;; )

Instagram pictures together <3

Domestic af, they look like they have been friends since birth

Hendery:

Cutely awkward together

Super giggly for some reason ^^

She’s the least close with Hendery out of all WayV members, but since she likes WayV so much she’s been hanging out a lot more with him and became closer

He’s really good at English so he helps her with her Chinese and whenever she gets tired of speaking Chinese he will switch to English or Korean (whatever works really)

Also one of the people who thinks she’s really cool and kind of intimidating

But off-stage she’s really sweet

Send each other a thumbs up after practise or when the other gets off stage

Ten and Kun said they want them to get closer because they are kind of similar

Yangyang:

Chaos-

Multilingual messes

JiHo completely understands German but before meeting Yangyang she never really tried speaking it before. She’s nervous to mess it up but Yangyang is really excited and helps her a lot with German. Since he also forgot a bit of German they take classes together

75% of her attention is taken up by Yangyang when JiHo hangs out with WayV

Exposes so much about JiHo on Vlive and Instagram (He got a warning by the managers to be careful because he might spill something that’s not supposed to be made public)

Legendary Instagram Live where the two of them were up until 3 am and were so sleep-drunk. JiHo couldn’t form a coherent sentence, mixing up every language she knew. Yangyang dissing his members and both of them laughing hysterically

The fans absolutely adore them and the members are absolutely terrified

Ten said that whenever JiHo’s with him and Yangyang, he can’t be with them for long or he’ll actually go insane

---

Side Note: my posts weren’t showing up in tags for the last 3 days so I contacted Tumblr and apparently it was a bug on their end. Luckily they fixed in in literally 10 minutes! In other words: I’m back to posting again!

If you have any questions/comments please feel free to let me know. I have a few posts ready to go already, so i’m excited!

[radiorenjun]

 I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, slight cussing or swearing, body pains, unrequited love, Jaemin finally getting karma for what he’s done, a bit of crying, brief mentions of death and flashbacks.

• Word count : 7.4k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: viii, ix

They say karma hits back at the best of times. In this case, it was no different with Na Jaemin. 

As time went on Jaemin finds himself longing and missing your presence by every passing moment. It’s been a full month since you started avoiding him like the plague, never daring to meet his eyes or even turning your head to acknowledge his presence in the classroom. It was as if you hadn’t spent most of your life hanging out with each other. As if you two were complete strangers.

At first, Jaemin tried ignoring the empty feeling inside of him whenever you pass by without giving him a slight glance. Trying to focus on whatever he was doing and not turn his head whenever he heard somebody calling out your name or whenever he hears your voice nearby. But it appears to be getting harder and harder as time goes by.

He finds himself thinking back to all the things you both used to do together wherever he goes. 

More or less, he doesn’t notice how his smile would quickly turn into a frown when he sees you hang around and act too friendly with Renjun. But then again, who was he to tell you what to do? He should be thrilled that you’ve finally decided to let go of him and get off his back. Yet again, he doesn’t seem too happy.

It seemed as if the world has turned upside down. Jaemin hadn’t noticed how many habits he developed in your absence from his life. He usually finds himself staring longingly at the shit polaroid the two of your took back when you were fourteen on your senior middle school field trip. A small smile stretching across his face when his mind wandered back to the exact moment when and where you took it. 

“Jaemin!” you hissed loudly as you took your bag to pull out your polaroid camera that your grandma had bought you earlier on your birthday. You were both currently on break after a long hike and hours of camp activities. Jaemin turned his head, seeing you pull out your camera and blowing some dust off of it. Jaemin smiled as he shoved his hand in his own bag which had a hidden package of fluffy white marshmallows.

You were saving them for the bonfire later that night but what’s the harm in eating a few right? Jaemin shoved a marshmallow in his mouth as he got up to sit next to you on the dirty floor, the satisfying crunching sound of dried leaves being crumpled under his beige colored boots. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring devices into camp,” Jaemin slumped down on the spot beside you, watching you fidget with your camera.

“I got permission from Mr.Jung. He said I could take some pics for the sake of saving memories, as long as I don’t blame him if I lose it,” you chuckled, turning to your best friend before your eyes lit up at the marshmallows in his palm. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from your camera to your pleading expression, puppy eyes boring into his, opening your mouth in a large ‘o’ shape.

Jaemin bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing, his hand picking up one of the marshmallows in the other before aiming it towards your mouth. When you leaned forward to gobble up the treat in between his finger, he pulled away teasingly, causing you to let out a short frown. He giggled at your reaction, pulling the marshmallow close to you before pulling away once again once you leaned forward.

“Jaemin, stop and let me have a marshmallow, you greedy goblin!” you whined, bumping your shoulder rather harshly against his teasingly. Jaemin broke into a fit of giggles, nodding with a giggly, “okay, okay. Chill out.” 

He popped the fluffy treat into your mouth where you started humming in content, “thank you,” you replied melodiously with a wide smile. Jaemin laughed, ruffling your already messy hair before pulling his hat off his head to plop it lopsidedly on your head. You furrowed your brows, scrunching your nose as you pouted almost menacingly at him causing him to smile innocently and pinch your nose in between his free hand that wasn’t carrying the marshmallows.

“Finally!” you exclaimed, turning on your camera before Jaemin took it out of your grasp. “How much do you have left?” Jaemin asked, referring to the contents inside of your camera. You suddenly turned to him, camera closer to your face, quickly snapping a quick picture of his taken aback state. The flash coming from your camera nearly blinding him, causing black spots to line his vision for a couple of seconds. “Three, now.” you pulled the polaroid out of the dispenser, blowing on it smugly before shaking the piece of film in between your fingers.

“Great, then you don’t mind if we finish the last four polaroids on us?” Jaemin raised his brow in a rather flirtatious way. “Whatever, my grandma’s gonna gush about us either way, saying how pissed off she’ll be if we don’t end up as soulmates.” You shrugged as Jaemin lifted the camera to angle it so the two of you would be in the frame. Your grandmother was one of those people who were convinced that you two were going to be soulmates in the future. “That’s a risk I’ll be willing to take,” he nods with a laugh.

“Enough blabbering and put on a really ugly face so I can save it in my scrapbook, Na.” you joked, winking awkwardly at the camera as you brought your hand closer to your eye for a peace sign, hovering your index finger above the camera button. “Oh y/n, always so desperate to have more cringey pictures of me, aren’t you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush on me,” he smirked, causing you to lower your camera to purse your lips and roll your eyes at him.

“Just shut up and take a picture before I tell Mr. Seo that you’ve been eating all the marshmallows during the hike,” you threatened weakly, raising the camera once again to get a better angle. Jaemin to let out a soft chuckle before sucking in the corners of his lips into his mouth to make a duck face before his finger slowly slides onto the camera button, clicking it rather quickly.

For the next three shots, you two continued to goof off with either you or Jaemin ruining the last three photos. Only finally having a decent one when you threatened to burn his x-box if you didn’t get this last picture right. One polaroid had a picture of you pushing Jaemin’s face away from the camera, resulting in you showing your pearly white teeth.

“Shining shimmering splendid” as Jaemin liked to say. 

The other was a slightly less blurry than the precious one, with Jaemin trapping you squealing and squirming in his arms, scrunching your face in disgust. You soon revealed that you had kept this in your scrapbook that you were so devoted to at the time.  

The last picture was the clearest picture out of the four. A picture of you laughing brightly, hands pushing against Jaemin’s face, his lips puckered up to give you a teasing, friendly kiss. “I’m definitely keeping this,” Jaemin giggled, holding the polaroid in between his fingers with amusement written all over his face. You peeked at the photo in question, letting out a huff as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, it was a mistake to watch the Titanic with you,” you shoved Jaemin teasingly with a snicker, stuffing the other polaroids in the front pocket of your backpack. Jaemin pouted letting out a small “humph” as he crossed his arms rather childishly, “please?” he said, coming closer to you to poke your cheek.

You snickered at your best friend who was now pinching your cheek and chanting “please” in a playfully aggressive tone. “Pay me,” you stuck your tongue out jokingly, jaw dropping a second afterwards when you saw Jaemin pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “How much?” he asked, shuffling through his almost empty wallet. (He spent all the pocket money his parents gave him for a can of coke the seniors were selling during the hike, despite your protests)

You let out a laugh. “You idiot, I wasn’t serious, put your wallet back in before it cries at how empty it is, Jaemin.” you retorted, smacking his arm lightly as Jaemin smiled like a dork at your expression. “Oh, I see how this is. You just want to see how broke and empty my wallet is, didn’t you? You ” he accused, wiggling a finger in your face. 

“Yes, I definitely wanted to see how broke you are after I told you multiple times that the juice our moms packed us is way more worth it than some soda our senior offered. Definitely not because I was joking or anything,” you laughed sarcastically, rolling your eyes at the boy who let out an embarrassed giggle. “Shut up!” he laughed, flicking your forehead.

“It was just coca cola, you nitwit. You have no right to complain considering you practically begged me to buy you one as well,” he retorted, pinching your cheek rather hard. “I only asked! It’s your own fault that you decided to buy me one, for all you knew I could’ve shared yours! But  no, you’re a greedy little shit that wants to drink a whole can of cola by himself!” you shot back, laughing along as you pushed his hand away from your face.

“Clearly, coca cola means much more to you than our friendship. I can’t handle this betrayal!” you raised your arm to cover your eyes with the back of your hand dramatically, wailing like a banshee as Jaemin’s jaw dropped, feeling slightly offended at how you unceremoniously exclaimed his betrayal for the whole class to hear. 

“L/N!”

Jaemin smiled to himself at the vivid memory, remembering how you both laughed so hard the majority of your whole trip, so hard that your stomachs’ were aching. Remembering how you squealed his name in alarm when you were squirming in his hold, trying to get out of his arms when Jaemin tried to place a kiss on your forehead in front of everyone to mess with you. Your classmates were surprisingly unfazed by the immense amount of platonic affection displayed in front of them, but you couldn’t blame them. This is Na Jaemin we’re talking about. The boy who flirted with his nurse while getting an injection in his ass.

Though, Jaemin never realized how mature you both have gotten since then. How since your 16th birthday, you stopped having midnight texts that made you both grip your own stomachs out of laughter. How you both stopped joking around as much. How this whole soulmate ordeal tore your friendship apart.

Jaemin would like to convince himself that this was all your fault. You were the one that caused your relationship to fall, with your over the top devotion to making him love you more than a friend would. He would like to think that if it weren’t for you being so clingy and dramatic when professing your love, he wouldn’t have lost his childhood best friend.

He sighed softly as he closed his locker, gripping his biology book against his side with one hand and gripping the saddle of his bag in the other. Jaemin despised this empty feeling in his chest.The feeling that as if something had gone missing in his life. The same feeling of how he lost his newest transformers action figure back when he was nine years old.

As he turned around the corner, pausing in his step as his eyes widened slightly to see you leaning against the locker with your friends. A bright expression on your face as you listened to your friend ranting bout whatever Jisung did to fool the newest math substitute teacher into giving them a free period. 

Jaemin felt his mouth running dry, words stuck in his throat, a sudden uneasy feeling piling up into his chest. He scoffed lightly to himself, mentally scolding himself for his sudden nervousness. ‘Why am I getting nervous over this? It’s just y/n after all.’ he thought with furrowed brows before shaking the thought out of his head, huffing to himself before continuing on forward. 

It felt as if the world had slowed down for a dramatic effect. As Jaemin passed by you and your friend, he couldn’t help but look at you in the corner of his eye, catching a small glimpse of your laughing figure. And to his surprise, your eyes darted to his own, catching his piercing gaze. Both of your eyes met for a brief moment, the sound of students chattering around you growing deaf for a split second.

That is, until Jaemin got snapped back into reality when he watched the happiness from your eyes evaporate. A sad, hurt expression replacing it as your pupils moved away from his own, he watched your head turn to look at your nails, pretending to listen to whatever your friend was saying as you tried to mask your hurt with a slight smile.

Jaemin’s heart ached, a frown taking place on his own lips as he tears his gaze away from your figure to look down on the tiled floor. Jaemin let out a loud exhale as he makes his way to class, There was something hurtful about the  way your eyes instantly dart away to avoid his gaze, his heart aching at the thought that you couldn’t even look at him. Were you that upset bout the dinner party? He couldn’t recall the last time you were this upset.

As Jaemin sat on his usual spot in his Biology class, he began to get lost in his thoughts. The closest thing he remembered to you being this upset over something was when-

He was snapped out of his thoughts in a flash when he heard a loud container being dropped in front of him. Jaemin jumped in his seat at the startling noise, turning his head to the source of the action. Unsurprisingly, it was non other than his oh-so-precious seatmate, Lee Donghyuck himself. “What’s gotten you so pissed off? You looked as if you poured orange into your cereal instead of milk,” Donghyuck snickered.

“That’s a possible option considering I’m lactose intolerant, Hyuck.” Jaemin shot back with a rather sardonic tone. Hyuck chuckled, slumping in his seat beside Jaemin before continuing to speak. “Reminds me of when I bought you milk bingsu,” he snickers causing Jaemin to let out a soft chuckle, pushing the side of the older boy’s head away in retaliation. “You bitch, you knew I was allergic. Why couldn’t you just get me a fruit bingsu instead? Instead, you made y/n buy it.” Jaemin stopped himself from speaking any further, his mind drifting away to recall the wonderful memory.

“Jaemin, my good pal. You absolutely need to try this place’s milk bingsu.” Hyuck exclaimed as he sat down on the empty seat with his other friends with two big bowls of milk bingsu in his hands. Jaemin glanced up from his phone, a deadpanned expression spreading across his face as he slumped back in his seat with an offended frown plastered on his face.

“Lee Haechan, you know very well I’m lactose intolerant. Why couldn’t you just get a fruit bingsu?” Jaemin groaned, eyes glaring at his older friend who merely shrugged innocently as the rest of their friends dig into the scrumptious dessert with soft snickers coming out of their mouths. “The audacity,” Yeoreum snickered, waving a spoonful of the dessert in front of Jaemin’s face.

Jaemin huffed, blowing out a puff of air as he crossed his arms against his chest. “This speaks so much bout our friendship right now. Clearly, you guys don’t care bout me.” he muttered under his breath like a little 5 year old boy throwing a tantrum in his car when his mother said that they have food at home when he wanted Mc Donald’s.

“You’re such a baby. If you want one so much, go buy some.” Jeno chuckled, shoving Jaemin by the shoulder playfully causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh. “Shut up, you know very well that I’ve gone broke from buying the latest Final Fantasy game.” he laughed, patting the empty wallet hidden in his jacket pocket.

“No wonder I couldn’t understand you. You’re speaking in broke with us rich kids, go away peasant.” Hyuck joked, earning a hard punch on the shoulder from the younger boy. “It was worth it,” he spat back. “ I’m good with starving for the rest of the month if it means I get to spend my whole weekend procrastinating on assignments for that glorious game,” he smiled in defeat.

“You big baby, I’ll buy it.” you sighed, standing up from your seat which was across the table from Jaemin’s, pulling out your own wallet from your hoodie, causing Jaemin’s jaw to drop. “Your girlfriend buying your meal for you, how romantic. Such a gentleman, Mister. Na Jaemin.” Hyuck applauded, clapping his hand together with each word that spews out of the idiot’s mouth.

“Y/n, you really don’t have to-” Jaemin insisted, standing up from his chair to look at you. Trying to swallow down the typical feeling of annoyance piling up in his chest whenever he talks to you, Jaemin tried to ignore the coos and howls of your friends gushing about how cute you two are. You had found out two of you were soulmates almost 6 months ago, and ever since then, things changed between you two.

You smiled briefly. At that time, Jaemin couldn’t decipher if she was just oblivious to the fact that he was annoyed and uncomfortable at that situation or you were just putting up a facade to mask your hurt when you saw his annoyed expression. “Hush, it’s not unusual for me to buy you things, Jaemin.” you grinned cheekily, walking up to the cashier and ignoring Jaemin’s annoyed whines.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at you in annoyance before sitting down and slumping in his seat with a heavy sigh. “Hey, at least you get a fruit bingsu,” Hyuck snickered. “Just like you wanted, right?” he leaned forward to pinch Jaemin’s cheeks, receiving a hard smack in response from the younger boy, an annoyed expression plastered across his face. 

“Shut up, Hyuck.” he snarled, slumping in his seat in annoyance.

“Welp, no matter. I got you some cookies.” Hyuck sighed, pushing the container towards Jaemin, causing him to lift his brow questioningly. “Cookies?” he asked, surprised. “What’s the occasion? You never gave me anything before,” Jaemin opened it to reveal that the container was filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. “You seem pretty down these days so I figured you needed the old cheering up by your best pal, Haechan!” he exclaimed with enthusiastic jazz hands.

Jaemin chuckled lightly, grabbing one cookie. “Don’t worry, they’re those dark chocolate, no milk kinds of cookies. You won’t have to go to the bathroom with a stomach ache later on,” Donghyuck snickered, patting Jaemin’s back when Jaemin looks at him and the cookie suspiciously. “Where did you even get these? “ Jaemin asked, inspecting the cookie with furrowed brows, eyeing Donghyuck suspiciously as if Donghyuck had poisoned said cookie. 

“Relax, Jaemin. I didn’t make them, so no pranks, I can promise you that.” Hyuck waved the back of his hand at Jaemin, telling him that he’s telling the truth. Jaemin shrugged, opening his mouth to eat the cookie before Hyuck spoke up again. “I got it from y/n,” Hyuck added on, making Jaemin pause, pulling the cookie away from his mouth.

“I think I’m good,” Jaemin muttered lowly, putting the cookie back into the container. ”Oh come on, Jaemin! I bet you missed tasting her cookies. Sure, you two aren’t haven’t been on speaking terms lately. But what’s stopping you from eating her Thursday Cookies? They’re literally to die for! Plus, you’re acting as if she poisoned them or something, it’s nothing like you never had before.” Hyuck groaned, grabbing two pieces of cookies and shoving one into Jaemin’s grip and tossing the other into his mouth.

Hyuck watched Jaemin from the corner of his eye, feeling sort of uneasy at the sad puppy-like expression plastered on his best friend’s face as he stared down at the cookie as if he was lost. “What’s wrong?” Hyuck asked with a raised brow, pushing back his bangs which almost covered his eyes. He might need a trim before Mark complains bout how his hair is gonna poke him in the eyes all the time.

Jaemin looks up at his friend with a startled expression as if Hyuck had snapped him out of his thoughts, Jaemin opened his mouth before closing it again, trying to think of something to say. “I’ve never had her cookies before,” Jaemin confessed, leaning his head against his palm, his elbow on the table. Hyuck’s eyes widened at the surprising statement, leaning forward to tell whether Jaemin is lying or not.

He wasn’t.

“WHAT?!” Hyuck exclaimed, attracting their classmates’ attention. Jaemin bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the eyes of his classmates. “You couldn’t say that any louder, huh, Hyuck?” he shot back with a scowl. Though, Donghyuck didn’t care about the concerned eyes of his classmates boring into his skull for interrupting their conversation with his dramatic antics. “Don’t change the subject, Na.” Hyuck pointed a finger at his friend, a deep frown adorning his lips.

“What? I’m not,” Jaemin sighed heavily, looking back at his friend with a bored expression. “Stop lying!” Hyuck exclaimed, pressing his index finger against Jaemin’s nose. Jaemin raised his brow, “I’m really not, Hyuck. Why are you making such a big deal of this?” he asked with furrowed brows, concerned of his friend’s sanity. He really couldn’t remember why he was friends with Donghyuck at that given moment.

Donghyuck was acting as if he had just found out Jaemin is secretly those aliens that rule over the government, waiting for the right moment to start a world wide apocalypse. (according to Renjun’s theory during their shared art class, that is) 

“Dude. I’m not an idiot, you practically received a life’s worth of her delicious cookies every week! How have you not tried at least one of these? These are literally heaven baked cookies! A salvation of life! The only thing that’s worth living in life! The-” 

“Remind me how you’re not single again?”

Hyuck frowned, a pout appearing on his lips afterwards as Jaemin grinned proudly in response. “Whatever, what I mean is. I would literally send you death glares from across the hall because you were one lucky bastard to be receiving a large ass jar of cookies every week while I’m stuck here begging y/n for cookies only to receive, ‘oh, I gave them all to Jaemin.’ every week of my life.” he huffed, crossing his arms with a deep frown on his lips.

Jaemin’s eyes widened slightly at the statement, eyes falling back on the chocolate chip cookie in between his fingers. Did you really spend your time baking him cookies every week? He felt his heart flutter at the thought, a warm feeling in his stomach suddenly appeared as he eyed the cookie.

“Hey Jaemin?” 

Jaemin looks up from his locker, humming to see none other than your presence. “Y/n?” he raised his brow, stuffing his Chemistry textbook into his locker and grabbing his Math textbook as he speaks. “What’s up?” he asked in a bored tone, adverting his gaze back to the contents of his locker, pulling out the books he needs for his next class.

“So, I baked you some cookies. I used your mom’s recipe for your favorite peanut butter and dark chocolate chip cookies that we used to eat as kids together.” you exclaimed, handing him a clear air-tight glass jar filled to the brim with delicious cookies. Jaemin looked at the jar filled with cookies before sighing up at you, tired eyes boring into yours. “Y/n, as much as I love accepting gifts from you and as much as I love the fact that you care about me, but you really need to stop doing this.” Jaemin sighed, stretching out his hand to give you back your cookies.

“What?” you frowned slightly. “It’s just too much, I appreciate you giving me so much of these cookies. But it’s kind of a waste to give me so many don’t you think? I mean, I know loads of people who would want your cookies way more than I do. You’ve given me so much cookies, I’m not even eating them!” Jaemin exclaimed almost exasperatedly, sighing heavily afterwards. His eyes glancing at the jar filled with delicious treats to your soft pleading eyes boring into his.

“Come on, it’s just a jar of cookies. It would mean a lot if you accept them, I worked hard to bake them,” you pouted, giving him that look you often use to make him give in. Jaemin would often compare your expression to that iphone emoji with puppy pleading eyes whenever he gives in to your wants and needs. Jaemin almost let out a scowl at your remark, almost retorting back with a ‘it’s your own fault. I didn’t ask for cookies in the first place.’

He tried his best not to roll his eyes, sighing in defeat as he gave in to your pleas. “Fine, only because I can’t say no to that look,” he huffed, masking his annoyance with a pout of his own, shoving the jar of cookies into the front pocket of his bag. He watched as your puppy-like pout morph into a happy, pleased expression, reminding him of the cute emoticons he always used in his phone. He didn’t know why but It always brings a small smile to his lips to see your happy expression.

“Yay!” you cheered rather enthusiastically. “Why do you like giving me cookies so much anyways? It’s a becoming a weekly routine now for me to get cookies from you.” Jaemin chuckled as you both began to walk side by side to your next class. He watched as you shrugged simply, eyes forward, waving at a few students who passed by. “I just like giving gifts to my soulmate,” you giggled at him, skipping away from him before he could scold you for saying it out loud.

He shrugged, taking a bite out of the cookie before widening his eyes at the sweet taste. He let out a surprised hum, eyeing the cookie as if he was Aladdin and the cookie was the golden lamp with a genie inside. “Good, right?” Hyuck chuckled, amused by his friend’s expression. “ I still can’t believe you never tried these before. She says she got the recipes from Buzzfeed but I don’t buy it, I’ve tried making some with Mark but they don’t taste nearly as good as hers.” Hyuck blabbered on.

“On a rare occasions she would hand them over. But those are only when your ungrateful ass kept refusing her cookies. Like, it often made me think, ‘why couldn’t Mark bake as well as-” Hyuck’s words eventually gone deaf to the younger boy’s ears, head filled with his own loud thoughts as the sweet flavor of the cookie entranced his taste buds.  

He remembers constantly rejecting your gifts every time you came up to him with hands hidden behind your back, trying every possible excuse in the book so that you would possibly give them to someone else. Or even suggesting that you should give them to Hyuck whenever Jaemin spotted him talking to Jeno across the hall in the corner of his eye. Avoiding your slightly saddened expression. On rare occasions, you would give in with a sad smile and give them to either Jeno, Haechan or some other lucky soul that gets to have free cookies.

“Like, I’ve had her give me some of her super special recipes but they just hit differently from hers you kno-”

“It taste like her hugs.” 

“What?” 

Jaemin’s eyes widened when he realized he said that last bit out loud, his head turning to his friend who mirrored his wide eyed expression. There was a pregnant pause between the two boys, taking in the words that accidentally slipped out of Jaemin’s mouth. Jaemin opened his mouth to speak, trying to come up with something to say to cover up the previous statement he had made.

Hyuck furrowed his brows at his friend. 

“You can taste hugs?” 

“Mr. Lee is coming!” someone exclaimed, causing Hyuck and Jaemin to sit up in their chairs. Jaemin shoved the rest of the half eaten cookie into his mouth as Hyuck quickly closed the container and snuck it quickly into his bag, trying to act as casual as possible as their teacher walked into class with his usual stoic expression.

“Good morning, class. We have no time to waste, exams are in a month. Please open your textbooks to page 67.” their teacher announced in his typical booming voice, turning around to start explaining on the whiteboard in front of them. Jaemin glanced at Hyuck for a split second, diverting his gaze away when he caught his eye. Hyuck shrugged simply, burying his head into his arms into a sleeping position.

Jaemin wasn’t surprised to see Hyuck closing his eyes in content, thus, not paying attention to the lecture. It wasn’t such an unusual thing for Lee Donghyuck to doze off during class, thus ignoring the whole lecturing and depending on other students for notes or seniors for cheat sheets. Jaemin hoped Hyuck would let go of what he said earlier or even better, pretend it never happened.

As Jaemin advert his eyes back to the whiteboard and started to listen to Mr. Lee’s explanations, he didn’t realize Hyuck, whose face was hidden and buried in his arms, was staring into darkness with sad half-lidded eyes. He knew full well who Jaemin was talking about, he knew what was happening with Jaemin. The fate of those who rejected their soulmate’s love. He knew this would happen eventually but he didn’t expect this to happen so soon.

Deep down, he felt sympathy for what’s to come to his dear friend. He knew from here on out, it’s going to be a roller coaster of emotions for his dear friends and he was afraid of finding out the end to their story. 

Jaemin often spent his Thursdays hanging out at the arcade with his friends right after practice. As the good friend Jaemin was, he would often go broke from treating his team for some food and beverages. (As long as they didn’t get on his bad side or anything) Especially for those who were feeling down that whole week. Jaemin was more than willing to sacrifice his wallet’s contents for the sake of his friends smiling again.

But this time, to Jaemin’s surprise, Jeno was the one who offered to sacrifice his wallet for the team this week. Due to the exhaustion and stress of his constant chest pains, wrist pains, long endless assignments and his upcoming midterm exams, all he wanted to do that weekend was get at least 18 hours of sleep and binge watch the latest series that just came out recently.

But since, Jeno, the one and only Jeno who was the one who usually encourages the rest of the team to make Jaemin’s wallet an empty little bitch, was willing to empty out his pockets this time. He couldn’t say no. Hell if Jeno was the one paying, that meant someone in the team was feeling down or needed a real cheering up. 

Plus, it was finally his turn to scream, “BUY EVERYTHING YOU CAN. JENO’S PAYING, WHOEVER’S GOT THE MOST EXPENSIVE SHIT WILL GET A FREE JAR OF COOKIES!”

You can tell Jaemin had been waiting decades to say that. 

But sadly, he was too tired from all the pain he was dealing with every hour of his day that he was basically dragging himself across the floor when they arrived at the mall, making their way to the arcade with Jeno and Haechan’s arms slung over Jaemin’s shoulder, making a little skip with every step they take. “How do you guys have the energy for this?” Jaemin croaked, putting on a sloppy smile to mask his exhaustion.

“Said by the guy who drinks expresso every morning with what? Four extra shots? With no water nor sugar? Six times a day?” Hyuck replied in a sassy tone, nodding his head cockily at the younger boy. “Besides, it’s a once in a life time opportunity to make our Lee Jeno broke and penniless. The thought of Jeno’s wallet crying out of hunger will always be my mood booster.” he added on with a proud smirk, causing Jeno to roll is eyes.

“Plus, you, my friend, looks exhausted as hell. You need some refreshing fun time with your best buds, Jeno and Haechan!” Jeno exclaimed with a proud smile, whipping out his VIP card in between his fingers like some kind of weird card trick. (which he rarely whips out when going to the arcade because why bother bringing a wallet when Jaemin or Chenle exists in their friend group?)

“What?” Jaemin deadpanned, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We exist, too, hyung!” Chenle exclaimed behind them in an offended tone, waving his hand in the air to alert his seniors that his existence was right behind them. “Honestly, we’re here because Haechan-hyung said Jeno-hyung finally brought his wallet,” Jisung snickered, finally lifting his eyes up from the nintendo switch his mom bought him a couple months ago.

“Not wrong, really.” Chenle shrugged, pulling Jaemin forward so that they could walk side by side with their seniors. “You know, you’re the rich one here. Why don’t you treat your seniors once in a while,” Jaemin teased, sending the Chinese boy a cheeky grin. “That’s because you’re mean. I don’t treat mean people,” he replied back with a cackle.

“I brought you kimchi last week, you ungrateful brat.” Jaemin hissed back as the five of them entered the crowded arcade, music booming loudly in their ears, bright lights from the arcade games nearly blinding their eyes. “What game should we play first?” Hyuck clapped his hands, rubbing them against each other with a sinister expression as Jeno came up to the counter to check his VIP card, nervously opening his wallet.

“Oh, what bout those-” as Jisung continues to speak, pointing at a random direction. The wide grin on Jaemin’s face soon dissipated when he heard a familiar laugh through the symphony of random gaming music. His head turned to see the source to confirm his suspicions, eyes widening when he saw you laughing with a bunch of your other friends.

What made his smile evaporate in a second was the sight of Renjun right beside you, leaning his arm against the game you were playing, laughing along with you as the rest of your friends continued to cheer for you to win. Jaemin felt the oh-so-familiar electrifying sting under the skin beneath his wristwatch, wincing slightly at the burning pain. He tried to mask his pain and turn his head away, his heart feeling heavy at the sight happening a few meters away from him.

Jaemin snuck his aching wrist into the baggy pockets of his jacket. Eyes back to his friends who were laughing at Jeno’s puppy-like expression to his now half empty wallet. He bit back a pained hiss, his heart beat muffling the loud noise around him as he watched Renjun lean closer to you to look closer at the game screen, his blood boiling at the mere sight.

He turned his gaze away following his friends to the long aisle of racing games, watching as Hyuck grabbed the play card from Jeno’s fingers and hopped into one of the games. “Jaemin get over here so I can beat your ass!” Hyuck exclaimed eagerly as Jaemin let out a soft sigh and sat on the empty seat inb between Hyuck and Jisung.

“The one with the lowest score has to chug down Jaemin’s disgusting Starbucks order,” Chenle snickered, sliding the card against the slot before handing it to Jaemin. “Then I’ll gladly lose on purpose, my drink tastes like rainbows and unicorns, thank you very much” Jaemin laughs, carefully taking out his aching wrist to grip the fake steering wheel, ignoring the excruciating pain in his skin as he passes the card to Donghyuck.

“Shut up, Jaemin.” Hyuck teased as they begun to play. 

Jaemin’s mind fluttered through the nostalgic memories of his childhood with you, remembering the first time your parents ever brought you to the arcade. When they had to use a certain amount of those silver or gold coins to play games. As Jaemin walked side by side with his friends, sipping his Starbucks order in his right hand (he lost the game on purpose because despite the empty pain in his chest, he could always distract his mind away from the pain with his precious expresso that Jeno payed) and his left back in his pockets.

Jaemin’s eyes paused at the familiar aisle of crane games, remembering those lovely times when you were both still in middle school, you would always play crane games to see who would get the most prizes. Coming home with a bag filled with plushies or small toys and wide grins on your faces as both of your parents just stared at the two of you in disappointment for spending their money on crane games.

‘It’s an investment’ you would always say whenever you ran towards the crane games with Jaemin trailing right behind you, whining bout how you rarely play the other fun games just to waste your money in a bunch of small hand sized plushies. ‘Investment into what exactly? You have a bunch of plushies in your shelf that aren’t doing anything but collecting dust,’ he would chuckle as he watched you slip a coin or two into the machine with your tongue stuck out in concentration. ‘Into my happiness,’ you would reply with a smug expression before focusing on the crane inside the glass box.

He smiled to himself at the memory, his eyes catching a few kids gathering up at the crane games, screaming and hollering every few seconds when their friend accidentally moved the crane too far from the doll. His chest aching once again when a brief memory of when you two were in your first year of middle school, screaming whenever the timer runs out right when you were bout to drop the claw with his hands filled with a towers worth of plushies and you laughing in victory like a maniac as you both watched the pocket money in your wallet slowly disintegrate into nothingness.

“You’re into crane games, Jaemin?” Jeno asked, causing Jaemin to snap out of his thoughts. “Huh?” Jaemin turned to look at his friends, his mind still in a blurry haze. “You’ve been staring at those kids as if they had stolen your last candy bar,” Jeno commented with a slight laugh, nodding his head towards the group of kids, screaming in victory when the claw machine dropped the large stuffed animal into the gigantic slot.

“It just reminded me of something,” Jaemin put on a slight smile, shaking his head with a light laugh, continuing on drinking his expresso and moving on forward to the music games. Hyuck gave Jeno a worried look, who sent him back a concerned look of his own as the two of them caught up with Jaemin. (Chenle and Jisung went to the snack bar near the arcade to get some snacks to sneak in the movies later)

“You okay, buddy? You’ve been spacing out a lot recently,”  Hyuck asked in a concerned tone, slinging an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. Jaemin turned to Hyuck with eyes void of emotion, a frown displayed on his face as he casually sipped his drink. “Yeah? I guess,” he shrugged simply, avoiding Hyuck’s concerned eyes.

“You sure? You don’t look too well,” Jeno asked, brows furrowed even more as Jaemin let out a small nod. He could feel his heart getting heavy with each second, his wrist aching even more as he tried to avoid his friends’ worried expressions, trying to act nonchalant as if he wasn’t clenching his fist tightly in his pocket to try to suppress the excruciating pain he was enduring. 

“Guys, really, I’m fine.” Jaemin forced a smile on to his face, turning his head away from Hyuck and Jeno. At that exact moment, Jaemin regretted turning his head away. His eyes widened to see you with your friends, your arm was wrapped around a gigantic penguin plushie, talking to Renjun with a wide smile, a laugh eliciting from you when Renjun said something that Jaemin couldn’t make out.

“Did you really have to spend most of your money on a bunch of plushies?” Renjun chuckled, nodding to Yebin who was carrying three shopping bags worth of random plushies. You giggled, nodding as you reached up to pinch Renjun’s cheek eagerly. “It’s an investment into my happiness, leave me alone Injun.” you giggled, clutching the penguin tighter against you when you felt it slipping in between your arms. 

Renjun slapped your hand away from his cheek, huffing out exasperatedly before grabbing your plushie from your arms and into his. “Let me carry that,” he sighs, adjusting his grip slightly before sending you a soft smile. “Renjun you really don’t have to,” you frowned, tugging the flippers of the penguin as if he was going to give you back your plushie.

“I’ve already made Youngheum and Yebin my slaves, I don’t need you stooping into their levels,” you joke, dodging the dog plushie Yebin had threw at you right after Youngheum let out a dramatic, “BETRAYAL!” as they dropped shopping bags filled with your prizes unceremoniously.

“Shut up and let me carry this for you, you ungrateful little shit.” Renjun chuckled, using a hand to carry the life-sized penguin plushie to flick your forehead. “The audacity, I’ll be sure to bake you guys a fuck ton of cookies this week,” you snickered as Hyunjin let out a laugh. “I want cookies too!” he exclaimed, shaking your shoulders vigorously as he whined.

Jaemin let out a loud groan of pain as he felt an intense stinging sensation, his heart was beating erratically in his ears. “Jaemin, you okay?” Hyuck asked, pulling his arm away from Jaemin’s shoulders as Jaemin bit his lip to suppress a hiss. Jeno and Hyuck turned to see what Jaemin was glaring at, eyes widening at you standing so closely to Renjun.

“Jaem-” 

Their eyes widened when they silently watched Jaemin pulling his wrist out of his pocket, tugging his wrist watch down to see the oh-so-familiar tattoo glowing  a bright blood crimson red. The words were stuck in their throat, they didn’t know what to say. Or if they could even say anything as they silently watched their friend bit his lip and clench his eyes shut at the pain of his wrist and chest.

“Shit, what’s going on?” Jisung’s deep voiced cut through the tense atmosphere, causing Jeno and Hyuck to turn to see Jisung and Chenle with their jaws dropped, arms filled with snacks as they stared at their Team Captain with horrified eyes. Jaemin’s eyes were glossy from the intense pain, his chest was aching like hell, his heartbeat muffling the music around him as he hissed out in pain, eyes still on your figure laughing with Renjun.

“Get Jaemin, out of here. I knew this was going to happen but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” Jeno ordered, trying to pull Jaemin out of the arcade but the boy could barely move. The pain getting more intense and intense by the second as Jaemin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two figures standing not even a couple meters away from them.

“Jaemin come on, it’s gonna get even worse if you stay here.” 

T A G G I N G : @lixseu @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @candiednickles @12am-musings @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @aconeptun​ @comically-sleep-deprived​ @wtfhaechan​ @chaeshii 

TAG LIST IS : O P E N E D ! do inform me if you changed your url. I couldn’t tag three people i’m so sorry idk what’s going on

[taekooktimeline]

December 31st, 2019 / January 1st, 2020

Following New Year’s Countdown, members take turns to talk about their resolutions. Tae says he wants to occupy himself with activities that heal his mind, although we understand it’s simply to maintain or - if possible - increase the level of happiness he experienced during 2019 as he said it was a happy year.

Jungkook interjects, interested in knowing whom he would do such activities with. If we go over prior events we can see that Tae had been going on trips with his family and various friends, including him & the wooga squad on a yacht, while Jk saw his own friends and relatives, complaining about Jhope and Jimin being the only members he had seen during their 1 month-long vacation on mid 2019, which could or could not be true, but if Taekook briefly saw each other they wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere outside an apartment. Jungkook could be bothered by this lack of private adventures and shared experiences (disregarding their variety shows). Wooga squad had also met up during Christmas Eve. Again, we don’t know if Tk spent some little time together or not.

Tae responds by saying there are many things that he can do alone. That answer doesn’t quite satisfy Jungkook who asks “not with us?”. It seems like Jungkook thought that they could be hanging out more than what they were and that Taehyung was going overboard with the closeting to the point of slightly distancing himself (although not reaching awkwardness like they later tried to sell).

Jungkook actually wrote a song that could give insight into this situation since it could have been written around this time. The Japanese demo was finished before March 2020 since it was first mentioned then, probably written only a few months before. Jk drew a big, artistic eye on a whiteboard on Dec 4th, which suggests he was already working on the songs’ adaptation to the Japanese film which gave it its name. This means he wrote the Korean version before December of 2019 and it had nothing to do with the pandemic. “Your Eyes Tell” talks about Jk being fearful of someone leaving him, even crying over it. He wants this person to believe him when he says that he wants a future with them no matter the hardships, even if he can’t say it out loud yet (meaning not ready to come out yet?) and his past demons haunt him sometimes (his lowest being late 2017/ early 2018). To believe him when he says that he finds this “darkness” to be beautiful if they are together. He says the world would be dull without the other and that he won’t take his eyes off of this person making sure that they don’t leave his side. If we assume this person to be Tae then, for whatever reason, Jk sensed that Tae was doubting Jk’s determination to keep going with their relationship, maybe due to the added difficulties that came with living in different apartments since around July 2019 and the weight of the prolonged closeting strategies. Jk may have interpreted the beginning of what seemed like a distancing as some sort of test where Tae gave him an easy way out or feared that if the situation progressed in this direction Tae would end up falling into thoughts that went something like “I should be the one to put an end to this for Jungkook’s sake” so he instead reassured him about his love through a ballad. It’s unclear whether Jk had real reasons to worry or he was just insecure about the changes in their relationship (living situation + heavier closeting = less private time together) and linking them to Tae’s past tendencies where he thought Jk would be better off without him.

Continuing with the topic, the night prior to this vlive Tae announced that he had recently written the first version of a song. It was written somewhere between the 14th & the 31st of December of 2019 and it seems like he was talking about “Sweet Night”, a song that was said to be completed by the start of March 2020 for the drama “Itaewon Class”. While we think that this song is based on Tae’s past experiences (finding common ground with the drama) from when he first realized he was deeply in love, unsure if the other still felt the same way, it was necessary for him to be able to relive the emotions he once felt, as he explained about his general creation process. The song tells that they had already crossed the line or grazed it at some points, but the sentence “are you my best friend?” & the part where he regrets realizing he’s in love only after the opportunity had passed are much more fitting to earlier in their relationship when things had never been labeled as romantic nor gotten serious, prior to an actual relationship ever ensuing which only happens at the end of the drama (not compatible with their mutual, unwavering gestures of love & compromise done throughout the previous years in addition to them “hiding” things like them sharing hotel room = having a serious relationship). The adaptation of Tae’s beloved webtoon inspired him to rediscover these emotions as it was also an opportunity to be part of an OST for a drama that his friend had a role in, but it also makes you wonder if he was truly in danger of going through the regression that Jk feared, Tae’s mind going back to the time they missed out on love. The song includes phrases such as “now my forever is falling down wondering if you’d want me now”, “I wonder if you are too good to be true” & “guess we were ships in the night” (meeting for a brief moment, or coming close to doing so, but then losing sight of each other due to the darkness). This last sentence is perhaps the most worrisome because it feels timeless, easily applicable to his musings at the time of writing, knowing they have to hold on tight to not part ways again because, as Jk reassuringly says in YET: “even this darkness we see is beautiful”.

”Sweet Night” opens with the lyrics “on my pillow/can’t get me tired/sharing my fragile truth”. On the 14th of December of 2019 Tae said he couldn't sleep well those days and that it could be due to it being the end of the year. It’s something he recouringly has trouble with so it can remind him of other occasions in which he had that problem. He usually writes down his emotions in his diary and revisits them. He also mentioned Itaewon Class.

On the 31st of December he then said he wrote a song.

The 6th of March of 2020 he talks about “Sweet Night”. He was saying it was hard to convey how he wanted the instrumental to sound to the staff (“express what’s in his mind”), but it was completed briefly before this vlive.

Regardless, “Your Eyes Tell” tries to retain someone BEFORE the end approaches, acting as a reassurance in case the other doubts (similar to “My Time”, released in February of 2020, where he promises they’ll overcome the restrictions), and we don’t think they broke up in 2019 due to many reasons, among them Tae saying in his final comments that it was a happy year with no particularly sad moments. January 25th was then the start of Tae being quite loud on Weverse throughout 2020 by mentioning Jungkook the most out of the members on free will (disregarding their iconic public exchange initiated by Jk on the 15th) and giving special attention to Jk-related questions as well as Taekook-related usernames. An indication of Jk’s efforts having an effect and Tae feeling encouraged to add subtle ways in which he could play with or challenge the exaggerated closeting limitations? An interesting set of rings also appeared within the month of January and it must’ve been Tae who gave Jk two rings out of the set of five that he initially wore himself. Jk held dearly onto them.

[lettersinscarlet]

Day Off (Obey Me! Barbatos Imagine)

Alright, finally at the end of the Obey Me! section of this transfer. Honestly this one surprised me because I didn’t expect this request, so I was pretty quick to write it out, and I thought it turned out pretty cute. I mean, at least I thought it did, but oh well.

——————————————————————————

“I’ll see you later, my love,” Barabtos promised quietly, gently pulling the door closed behind him. You sighed as you laid back down, staring at the ceiling. You wished that he could’ve stayed for a little while longer, but you knew that his job was important and that he needed to be there.

You had been in a secret relationship with Barbatos for a couple months now. The quiet demon had captured your heart, and it seemed that you had captured his as well. There were times when you would sneak over to his room or he would come to yours, and you could go off and have secret meet ups at different times. It was trying, but it was definitely worth it.

Lately, it had seemed that he had a ton of work, and your time together had been less and less. You missed him so bad, and you knew you needed to take action. You grabbed your things and crept out of the palace, on making your way back to the House of Lamentation. You didn’t want to jinx it, but you had expertly learned the way to sneak past Lucifer, and you always had a good excuse prepared in case he spotted you, which he hadn’t yet.

The next day, you hurried and got dressed so that you could speak with Diavolo before your classes started. You walked into the palace and straight to his office. You knocked and waited for a response.

“Come in!” Diavolo’s voice welcomed you cheerfully. You opened the door, gently shutting it behind you. Diavolo smiled when he saw you, giving you a wave. “Well, if it isn’t one of my favorite humans!” You laughed and he offered you a seat, which you took. “What brings you to my office this morning?”

You took a breath before you started. “I was wondering if you were aware that there is an important human holiday tomorrow.” Diavolo’s eyes widened in surprised and he leaned forward in his seat.

“No, I was not. What is this holiday?”

You smiled and you knew your plan would work.

“Well, we call it ‘National Butlers’ Day’ in the human realm,” you started. “Each household gives their butler the day off,” you explained. He nodded as he listened to your explanation. “I was wondering if we could celebrate this holiday by allowing Barbatos to have the day off.”

You crossed your fingers as you waited for his response. You saw that he was contemplating the idea, and eventually a bright smile crossed his face.

“Why, of course! It would be rude to not celebrate such an important human tradition,” he replied, and you sighed in relief. “Let me just make a note of this.”

You smiled secretly, pleased with your success. Now you just had to make sure you covered all your tracks. “Oh! But you don’t want to mention this to the other servants. We wouldn’t want to gloat that someone has the day off when they don’t.”

Diavolo nodded. “Of course, we need to be courteous.”

“Would you mind if I told Barbatos the good news myself?” you asked, hoping he’d grant this one more request.

“That seems fair that a human should tell him about the human holiday,” he rationalized and nodded. “Yes, I think it’s fitting that you should.”

You stood up from your seat, barely able to contain the huge smile on your face. “Thank you, Diavolo! You’re the best!” You turned to leave, but a genius idea struck you. “Might I add one more suggestion?”

“Fire away,” he replied, leaning back in his chair.

“You might want to see if Lucifer or one of his brothers could work in place of Barbatos for the day,” you laughed, his laughter joining you. You both said your goodbyes and you skipped out of the palace, deciding that you would tell Barbatos when he would see you at night.

Later that night, you were grinning ear to ear when Barbatos walked into his room. You stood up and walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You’ll never guess what I did today,” you started, your eyes lighting up as you looked at him.

“What did you do?” he asked, playing along.

“I got you the day off tomorrow,” you answered in a sing-song voice. He looked confused and you giggled.

“How in the Devildom did you manage to do that?” he asked, bewildered.

“I have my ways! I just batted my eyelashes and said ‘please” and he was like puddy in my hands,” you smirked. He rolled his eyed and laughed before kissing you again. “Oh, and if anyone asks, yes you are thrilled to be selected for National Butlers’ Day,” you added with a laugh. “Tomorrow, I have a whole day planned for us, so you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

“I can’t wait, but how are you going to explain this to the demon brothers?” he asked, still wary.

“I can get Solomon to cover for me,” you answered. “He owes me one, anyway, because I helped him out with one of his potions.” Barbatos smiled before he pulled you in for a tighter hug, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. You are the best partner I could ever ask for,” he whispered into you. You chuckled, squeezing him tight.

“Okay, you need to rest up. We have a big day planned tomorrow,” you informed him, pulling away from the hug and walking to his door.

“Wait a second! Don’t you think you could stay for just a little longer?” he asked, moving to be by your side again.

“Well, I guess I could stay for a little longer,” you admitted, turning and grinning at him. He smiled and pulled you back in for a deeper kiss, happy to be able to spend time with you.

The next morning, you spent some time putting things together for your day with your boyfriend. You talked with Solomon and you worked out your cover story with him. You packed your back and gave your excuse to the brothers, slipping out of the house to go meet Barbatos.

You stood in front of the palace, texting him that you were there and you waited for him. He soon came out to meet you, a bright smile on his face. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he pulled away and grabbed your hand.

“I’m excited for today,” he admitted, walking where you were leading him.

“I’m excited, too. It’s been awhile since we’ve had some alone time, and I’m glad that I get to spend the day with you,” you replied, squeezing his hand tighter.

“You know, with the way you were able to pull this off, I’d say that you almost have more magic than I do,” he laughed, and you smiled at him.

“First up on the agenda: breakfast!” you announced. He smiled as you led him to one of his favorite cafes.

Your morning was wonderful. You both enjoyed some breakfast together, before you took him to one of his favorite book stores. You picked out a new book to read and he picked out something as well. Then, you decided to go for a walk in a nearby park, you sharing some stories from the human world and Barbatos spilling the tea about the brothers and Diavolo. You took some time to take some picture of Barbatos and you had a little photo shoot with him, finding some photos that you would make your home or lock screen.

Soon, it was time for lunch, so you reached in your bag and grabbed the lunches you had made, taking Barbatos to sit at a bench nearby.

Shortly after lunch, you brought Barbatos to the movie theater, and you let him choose the movie that you would be watching. Hit picked something the both of you would like. During the film, you held his hand, squeezing it tight. Eventually, his attention and yours shifted from the movie to each other, the both of you moving to be closer together so you could kiss. You barely noticed when the lights turned on after the movie was over.

After the movies, you went with Barbatos to the museum. You spent hours in there, with him telling you the history behind some of the exhibits. You loved listening to him explain, just captivated by the way he talked.

You did a few more small activities, before you took Barbatos to a restaurant before dinner. You had the perfect way to end the night, so you took Barbatos to a secret clearing.

“It’s beautiful,” he remarked, looking around and then back at you. “What is this place?”

“This is my secret hideout,” you explained. “I stumbled across this place, and it just became where I went when I needed to get away from everything. I wanted to share it with you,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. He smiled at you, bringing up a hand to stroke your face.

“It’s wonderful, thank you for sharing.”

You moved and reached into your backpack, grabbing the blanket you had packed. You pulled it out, spreading it out on the ground. You sat and patted the spot next to you, encouraging him to sit next to you, which he did. You both laid back, his arm wrapping around you as you looked at the stars. You were both attempting to spot some constellations, and even attempting to make a few of your own, featuring a smiley face and a stick person.

“Thank you for today,” Barbatos said, turning his head to look at you. “I really enjoyed being able to spend my day with you.”

You turned to look at him more directly. “You’re welcome. You one-hundred percent deserve it.”

“You know, if we told Diavolo about us, we might be able to get a few more days like this,” he suggested with a laugh.

You sat up, causing Barbatos to sit up, too. You took a deep breath before you started what you needed to say. “Honestly, you deserve more days off. You are so hard-working, diligent, committed, kind, sweet, thoughtful, caring, not to mention good-looking,” you stated as you began to list your favorite qualities about him. His face flushed as he listened to you compliment him.

“The point is, I love you, Barbatos, and if you’re ready to tell people about us, then I am definitely ready, too.”

He waited for just a moment, his eyes glancing down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. Slowly, you both leaned in, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed against yours. It was soft and sweet and he pulled away after a moment, a huge smile on his face.

“Then I think I’m ready,” he admitted, making you smile as well.

You both laid back down, you snuggling against your boyfriend. He smiled, holding you tight against him. He was so glad that he met you and he felt incredibly lucky that you were with him, and he couldn’t wait to let the entire Devildom know that you were his girl.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//i have called you darlin' and i'll say it again

Request: Can I request a super fluffy Sweet Pea/Reader, the song Make you Mine by Public is kinda song I'd recommend listening to for it, not necessarily a song fic but just like Sweet Pea flirting/crushing on reader sort of thing

hey! so i had an idea for this and i really hope you like it! its a bit different to how i usually write and maybe a little different to what you were expecting. but i dunno, i just really liked the idea. i hope you do too! (if you don’t just tell me and i’ll write something else because this is a little different to the request) also, ‘lips’ is an inside joke between me and my girlfriend, and this is going to look really weird here but if you read on you’ll get what I mean. 

From the moment Sweet Pea saw you, he knew you were the one. 

He’d finally made it to the end of the first week of college, and with the help of his roommates he’d been invited to the first party of the school year. 

If you’d asked him a year ago where he would be in 12 very long months, he definitely would not have said stood in a frat house, playing beer pong a bunch of Chad’s and Jason’s. But here he is, and to his surprise he’s actually enjoying it. A lot more than he thought he would. 

He knows he probably should be back in his dorm, studying or sleeping or whatever freshman are supposed to be doing. But after the first week he’s still feeling a little lost. He doesn’t have any of his friends as Toni and Fangs both went to different college’s in different parts of the country. Classes are long, homework’s confusing and teachers are rude. 

He’s surrounded by people that are so different from the ones back home, and so he can’t help feeling that he sticks out just a little bit. He’s unsure about the world of college, and so maybe going to a party will help him understand everything a little better.  

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

You’re stood on the other side of the crowded room, a small red cup in your hand that matches those of the people around him and he looks down at his own drink, realizing that maybe he should have poured the bottle into the plastic cups everybody seems to have, even if they are ridiculously small and make him look like a giant. 

You’re laughing, your head tilted back, your nose scrunched up, your eyes closed as the people around you join in. Your little group seemingly in their own world. Complexity unaffected by the loud music and even louder people. 

He realizes he probably looks at least a little weird just staring at some stranger, but he can’t take his eyes away from you. He’s being pulled towards you, he has a need to talk to you, like his entire future balances on you. 

It takes a while, but he eventually talks to you. And after some awkward moments, the two of you are stood in the kitchen. He’s happy for the first time since he left Riverdale. You laugh at something he said that wasn’t meant to be funny and he feels the entire world fall away around him. It’s just you and him. Him trying desperately to make you laugh, and you doing it probably out of pity. 

You suggest a walk after a few minutes of shouting ‘what’ at each other trying to be heard over the music. And when he raises an eyebrow in surprise, you notice and make sure to to tell him it’s nothing funny, it’s just to talk. He agrees and you grab his hand, pulling him through the living room. 

You ask him if he knows what a french exit is and he shakes his head. You smile at him, its small but no less breathtaking and full of questions he wants answers to. ‘I’ll show you’ you say and for a second he’s worried that he’s got himself involved in something sketchy, something that Fangs told him he would have to be prepared for, something of which he told him to ‘fuck off’ for. 

But then you grab his hand and pull him towards the back door. It slams shut behind you and you’re both left standing in the back garden. It’s cold, an autumn breeze hanging around but it’s a welcome on your warm skin and you hope in the darkness that he can’t see the soft blush that dusts your cheeks.  

He watches you look around, a confused expression on your face before you look back at him, a slightly embarrassed smile settling on your lips. ‘I thought we could get out this way’. He laughs, making your smile brighten and even though you still feel embarrassed it’s not so bad anymore. 

‘We could climb over the fence.’ He suggests, you follow his gaze until the two of you are staring at a large wooden fence.

“Are you being serious?’ You ask, blinking at him. 

“It’s not that high.” 

“Maybe not for you, big foot.” 

“Wow, like I haven’t heard that one before.” He says eventually. 

“You know what they say, college is about new experiences.” You send him a sarcastic smile, to which he just laughs and shakes his head at. “Speaking of, if you want to climb over that, you’re going to have to help.” 

“Or we could just go back in and go through the front door.” He says, looking back at the house but you’re already stood by the fence, waiting with your arms crossed. 

“Nope.” You shake your head. “Once you’ve french exited, you can’t go back.” 

“French exited? Is that a word?” He asks, getting on one knee so he can help you over the fence. You smile at him before throwing your bag over the fence and grab his shoulder, ready for him to push you up. 

“Yep.” You reply, pushing yourself up and over the fence. 

“In what language?” He asks, following you shortly after. Both of you land with a thud, thankfully on your feet but Sweet Pea still gets a glare after narrowly missing your bag. 

“Mine.” 

“How did you get into college?” He asks sarcastically. 

You start to wander down the street, not waiting for him and it takes him a few seconds before he notices you’ve gone. The moon hides behind the clouds and you sigh, disappointed that there’s no stars out tonight. He watches you look up at the sky and follows your gaze. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You reply, looking back at him with a soft smile. 

“I would actually.”

He hears you sigh, deciding that tonight just a glimpse of the moon will have to be good enough, before footsteps start again. 

But he continues to look up at the sky, watching a future he so desperately wants paint itself on the cloudy canvas. 

A shy friendship that slowly evolves the more you get to know each other. With flirty conversations that always border on something else, both of you terrified to step a toe over the line. It’s filled with innuendos that neither of you pick up on until it’s too late or that make the other blush like mad.

Longing looks when the other isn’t looking that keep you up half the night. And awkward eye contact followed by weird smiles on the rare occasion that you’re caught.  

Brushing of fingers when you reach for the same thing...

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. Stop putting the snacks on the top shelf.” 

“This is my house?!” 

“And?” 

And nudging of elbows when one of your other friends says something stupid. Both of you sharing a look because you know for a fact when you’re alone you’re going to laugh about whatever’s been said. 

Looking forward to the next day just because you get to see them and constantly checking your phone as you wait for text. Spending hours thinking of different excuses to hang out with another and even more hours afterwards thinking about the time spent together. 

Inside jokes that confuse others around you but make you both laugh louder than anybody else. 

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Sweet Pea?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Lips.”

“Okay, what the fuck does that even mean? Why are you both laughing so hard? What is so funny about lips!?!!” 

Tight chests when you see them laughing loudly with someone else. Wanting to be with each other all the time, just by their side. You don’t even have to do anything, you just want to spend time with each other. Checking to see if they’re laughing at something you’ve just said and feeling an indescribable heartache when they’re not paying any attention. 

Watching for the other to walk into a room, and when they finally arrive and smile at you, its like your whole body smiles back at them. It doesn’t matter if its at a party, a class or if they’re just visiting your dorm. 

Wanting to be the only thing they see, wanting their heart and soul. 

And when your other friends question or tease you about it, you always deny it, even if the redness of your cheeks say otherwise. And always having each others backs despite how much it might hurt. 

“Darlin-I mean Y/n.” 

“Did you just call her darling?” 

“Wha-no. I didn’t!” 

“Oh my god! Yes you did. You just called Y/n darling.” 

“I didn-” 

“Y/n, you heard that right?” 

“Nope, I dunno what you guys are talking about.” 

“thank you.” 

Thinking about what it would be like to kiss them, what their lips would feel like against yours. How they would kiss you. Would it be soft and gentle or rushed? How their hands would feel on your skin or in your hair. 

Awkward first dates turn into weekly movie dates as a couple, filled with making out more than watching the actual film and more pizza than you can both handle. Its spent laughing at cheesy rom-coms and Sweet Pea’s aversion to horror films. 

You sneaking out the next morning, trying hard not to wake his roommate, despite him knowing you’re there. And Sweet Pea always asks the same question. 

“Are you french exiting me?” 

To which you always reply, “No, and I thought that wasn’t a word.”

“To you it is so I suppose I’ll let it go.” 

You meeting his friends during the holidays, and them loving you. You and Toni talking about how hard college is, and Fangs telling you every single embarrassing Sweet Pea story, his favourite being the almost threesome with Toni and somebody else. Both Sweet Pea and Toni hate it when he tells that story, especially because he tells literally every single person he meets. Thankfully though, you find it funny but promise to not talk about it ever again. 

He meets your family and friends the next holiday and it’s your tun to be embarrassed, although none of your stories can beat his though so you don’t feel so bad. You spend the week stealing kisses when no one’s around and making sly remarks about your aunt, uncle and their snotty kid, who’s older than you but acts like a spoilt 8 year old. It’s Sweet Pea that suggests the french exit one night after dinner and thats when you realize you love him. 

He looks after you when you’re sick, and you do the same. You watch your favourite movies, cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and tissues, despite protests of the other one getting sick. And when they inevitably do, the favour is returned. You don’t how you’re both not just constantly sick. 

There’s arguments that feel like they won’t end and days that you just don’t want to end. 

Shouting and crying and slamming of doors that always ends in long hugs and whispered apologies. 

You graduate together, one straight after the other and the two of you are smiling the entire day. Toni, Fangs and your family have flown over to see you both graduate, and they’re equally proud of you both. 

You get ready together but Sweet Pea still feels breathless when he see’s you. A small ‘wow’ escaping his lips as he watches you twirl around your room. He grabs your arm and spins you around, earning a surprised squeal from you. 

You’re never far apart from each other the whole day, wanting to be next to each other at all times. And it comes in handy when Fangs gets drunk and you have to stop him telling the threesome story to your parents. 

You made it! You did college! Well done! Now what though?

It’s time to go out into the real world and Sweet Pea feels like he did all those years ago at that party. Lost. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, where he’s going to live. 

But he watches you sleeping peacefully beside him and he knows whatever he chooses it’ll be okay, because you’re there with him. 

You figure your lives out together, making sure that the other is always a part of it. And after a while of working in some slightly stressful jobs, that aren’t really what you want to do but something you need to do to live, you save enough money to rent an apartment. It’s small, but it’ll do for now. And the two of you have fun searching for cheap furniture to fill it with. Nothing matches but its perfect and you don’t want it anyway else. 

He cooks, you do the dishes and you dance in the kitchen when certain songs come on. 

The song that were played at the party when you met and Sweet Pea can never remember the name of it so you always have to remind him. 

“Darlin’, whats that song called again? You know which one I’m on about. La, la, la, la.” 

“Make You Mine, Sweet Pea. And it’s 3am, go to sleep.” 

“Yeah! Thats the one...hey Y/n. Whats it called again?” 

“Make You Mine.” 

“Already am baby.” 

“You’re an idiot.”

The song you sang as you walked down the street together later that night, because he said something that reminded you of it. 

“Take me to your best friends, I love you then, I’ll love you now!” 

“What?” 

“You were talking about your friend Fangs.” You say, now very embarrassed at your sudden outburst. 

“His house is a bit far away but we can go if you want.” He replies making you laugh loudly.

When he gets back to his dorm the next morning, he makes a playlist, the first song in it being that one. He calls it ‘for y/n’, and he continues to add to it constantly. 

It’s got the one that reminds him of you, and to this day he still tries to fit your name into and fails miserably but it still makes you laugh and thats why he continues does it. 

That one song that played in the car on the way to getting groceries that he shout-sang for some reason and you both ended up sat in the parking lot for an extra ten minutes just singing. 

It has your go-to karaoke song that you have a little dance routine made up for, that you occasionally still practice in the kitchen, just so your moves are the best they can be for karaoke. 

He plays Make You Mine while proposing. What started as doing the dishes after dinner, ending in both of you crying while lying in a heap on the floor after you jumped on him. 

And its played again as your first dance at your wedding, but again, what starts as a very sweet and serious dance ends in you doing the routine from your karaoke song. 

He grabs your hand when everyone is too drunk to notice you’re both missing, pulling you through the endless corridors of the hotel you’re in. 

“What are we doing?” You ask as you clutch your dress with the other hand. 

“Do you know what a french exit is?” He replies, making you roll your eyes. 

“I do yes. How do you know what one is?” 

“Oh, a pretty girl showed me once.” 

“And where’s this pretty girl now?” 

“She’s married to some loser.” He shrugs making you glare at him. 

“Hey, that ‘loser’ is my best friend. And I know for a fact that whoever is marrying him is the luckiest woman in the world.” You scold and he rolls his eyes. 

He pulls you through the back door and the two of you stare the fence in front of you. 

“I thought we could get out this way.” He sighs. 

“We could always climb over it.” You say, squeezing his hand and sending him cheeky smile. “But you will have to help me.” 

“Always.”

“Sweet Pea? Are you even paying attention?” Kyle asks, hitting the serpents arm gently. Sweet Pea blinks, staring at the group of boys stood around the ping pong table. 

“Are you okay?” Another asks. “You kinda zoned out for a few minutes.” 

“I-er. Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He says dazed. He places the cup gently on the table before walking away, he feels dizzy and he has no idea whats just happened.

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

Laughing with your friends, your head tilted, your nose scrunched up, your eyes screwed shut, and the whole world stops. 

An entire future between the two of you waiting to be lived. A whole life waiting to happen.

He just has to talk to you. 

So he takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way across the crowded room to where you’re stood. 

It feels like the whole world has stilled as he looks at you, waiting patiently for you to finish your conversation with a dark haired girl, it looks purple in the lighting but he’s can’t be sure, and then he realizes that the hair colour of a stranger isn’t exactly the most important thing right now. 

She’s the first to notice him, she glances between him and you before a small smile twitches at her lips, and within seconds she’s gone, taking the rest of the group with. You frown and watch as they leave, confused as to where they’re going. 

Sweet Pea coughs awkwardly making you jump and turn around. The room goes quiet, the noise from the music and shouting falls away as he looks at you, a confused expression pulling softly at your features, as your gaze makes its way up to his face. The confusion is quickly replaced with a smile. Its bright and warm and it makes Sweet Pea smile in return. 

“Hi.” You lean into him, trying to be heard over the music and Sweet Pea momentarily forgets how to breathe. 

“Hi.” He replies, also leaning in. He’s trying so hard to play it cool, and at first it works, that is until he leans in too far and smacks his head off yours. “Shit sorry.” He says quickly, clutching his head while you do the same to your own. 

He’s fucked it. He knows he has. He’s definitely fucked it. 

“Its fine.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it. What’s your name?” 

“Sweet Pea.” 

“Y/n.” You reply. “Do you want to get a drink?” 

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo

last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.

this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

***

“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”

A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.

“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”

“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.

She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.

And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.

This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).

“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.

Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”

“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.

Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”

“What else’ve you got?”

“That’s it so far.”

A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”

“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.

“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”

“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.

Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.

“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Yeah? And?”

Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”

“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can���t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.

“How were your lectures, huns?”

“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”

“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.

“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.

The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.

“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”

Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”

“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.

“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”

“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.

The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.

It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.

“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.

“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.

Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”

A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”

“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”

“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"

“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.

“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.

“Well what alcohol do you like?”

“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”

Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”

As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.

A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”

“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”

“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”

“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”

“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”

A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”

Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”

“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.

“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”

A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”

“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.

“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.

In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”

A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”

“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”

At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”

A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”

Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”

Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.

A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.

“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”

“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”

Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”

The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.

“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”

“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”

Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”

A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”

Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”

“Yes.”

“And ditch the bralet.”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-

The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.

“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.

Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”

“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.  

“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.

She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”

“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.

“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”

“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.

The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.

Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”

“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.

“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”

A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”

“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”

“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”

Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.

“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.

Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.

She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.

“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”

“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.

“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”

“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.

“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”

“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.

“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”

The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.

“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”

Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.

“There’s no way this’ll work.”

Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”

Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”

As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”    

“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”

“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”

A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.

“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.

“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”

“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”

Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”

A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”

Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.

“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”

A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.

She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”

Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”

A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”

“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”

Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”

A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.

So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?

If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”

A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?

And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.

“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.

And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.

Oh.

Fuck.

She’s screwed.

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

The Plan

I am late to the party for the Harringrove April Challenge, so I combined the prompts for days 1-4 (first kiss, April showers, spring break, and roller skates) and got this bad boy. Plz enjoy. 

Read it on AO3 here!

Steve leaned on the kitchen table, chin on his folded arms, and watched the raindrops sliding down the outside of the apartment window. The fact that it was raining, on today of all days, felt deeply unfair. Wasn’t the whole point of California that it never rained here? All Steve had wanted was to do something nice for Billy, something to make up for…well. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was making up for, but he vividly recalled the expression on Billy’s face during the argument, and he was smart enough to know he had caused it somehow. So he had made a plan. A plan to ensure that spring break started out as successfully as possible, in the hopes that it would continue successfully from there. And now it was raining. Sometimes Steve wondered if the universe just genuinely enjoyed fucking with him.   

He heard the door to Billy’s room open behind him and tried to school his expression into something more neutral than bitter disappointment. He and Billy had been at least sort of friends for a while now, and had been living together since they moved out here last summer. It was more than enough time for Billy to be able to read Steve like a book, and the last thing Steve needed was to have to explain his disappointment about the plan. He wasn’t entirely sure he could explain the reasoning behind the plan to himself, so he really didn’t want to have to try to explain it to Billy. He wasn’t sure he could take the mockery that would almost certainly ensue. Billy was different in a lot of ways, after everything, but he was still kind of a dick. Steve was pretty sure that was at least partly baked into Billy’s DNA. 

It had been a little surprising to everyone when Steve had announced he was moving to California with Billy Hargrove to attend community college. Steve had even surprised himself a little bit with that decision, honestly. Robin had left for college in New York a few weeks prior and had invited Steve to come with her, but she had always been a very perceptive friend with an inconvenient habit of noticing when Steve was drowning. She had done a lot for him over the year after Starcourt, and he had wanted to give her a fresh start in New York without a roommate she had to worry about all the time. Billy, on the other hand, had offered up his passenger seat and would be the kind of roommate, Steve had assumed, who would ask precisely zero questions when Steve sometimes wanted to stay in his bedroom with the lights off for days at a time. So he had accepted the offer of the passenger seat, and he and Billy Hargrove had picked out an apartment.  

As it turned out, though, Steve had assumed incorrectly. Billy might not have an actual reason to give a fuck about Steve Harrington, but he was somehow even more persistent than Robin had been when it came to things like making Steve get out of bed and shower regularly, or asking if Steve had eaten anything recently, or even occasionally sitting down and talking Steve through the extremely basic process of breathing. It was super fucking annoying, and it made Steve feel more cared for than he maybe ever had, and he tried not to think about that too much because it wasn’t Billy’s fault that Steve responded to a basic amount of care by developing a massive crush, and actually none of that was the point right now. Right now, he had to fix his face before Billy saw it, or he was going to have to explain why he was upset, and that meant talking about the plan. Steve took a breath and tried to look fine.   

Billy sat down at the table and looked at Steve, who was still staring out the window. 

“What’s got you all mopey?” Billy asked, so Steve had definitely nailed the whole expression thing. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said, and it was a lot less convincing than he had been hoping for. Billy just stared at him, and Steve kept his eyes on the rain. It was coming down harder now, as if the universe was really trying to drive home how stupid the plan had been in the first place. Steve felt Billy’s eyes on him for a moment longer, and then Billy stood up. Steve heard the sounds of him making a smoothie and poked listlessly at the soggy remains of his cereal. He tried not to think about how today was supposed to be perfect, and now it wasn’t.  

Billy was back just a few moments later, a dark purple smoothie in hand. He handed Steve a smaller cup with the extra in it, like he always did. Billy made the best smoothies. 

“So,” he said as he slid back into his chair across the table from Steve, “what are you so upset about? We’re staring down two weeks of no classes, you passed all your midterms, and the nerds and Robin are all coming out to visit for summer in, like, two months.” Billy narrowed his eyes. “Are you upset that you’re not going back to Hawkins for break?” The question was a little cautious, and Steve shook his head immediately. He had no desire to restart the argument, and he wasn’t actually upset about not going back ho—back to Hawkins. 

He thought briefly about just…confessing. Admitting that he cared, probably a little too much, about making Billy happy, and then probably finding out once and for all that this thing was entirely one-sided. But then he was probably going to have to move, and he really didn’t want to do that. So he didn’t say it. 

“I made plans for today,” he admitted instead. Billy’s eyebrows went up.

“Plans aside from hanging out on the couch, watching movies, and smoking these?” Billy placed a baggie of perfectly rolled joints on the table. 

“Yes,” Steve said, although that sounded like a pretty great rainy day. 

“Ambitious,” Billy said drily, and Steve huffed. He was pretty sure this was just the tip of the mockery iceberg, but still. 

“So what were you going to do?” Billy asked after a silence. Steve wrestled with it for a moment, and then rolled his eyes. Billy wasn’t going to stop until he pried at least some answers out of Steve, so he might as well confess to this much. He unlocked his phone and pulled up the confirmation email. He slid it across the table toward Billy.

“We,” Steve said, “were going to go roller skating along the marina.” Billy’s eyes widened. He looked at the phone and back at Steve. 

“Roller skating,” he said, and Steve couldn’t get a handle on his tone. Steve smiled despite himself, though, because he was confident about this part of the plan. He had thought about it a lot. 

“Oh come on,” he said with a little smile, “like you wouldn’t Instagram the shit out of roller skating at the waterfront.” Billy looked at him, and Steve continued, “It’s retro enough to fit your whole throwback aesthetic, and you can take enough pictures of boats and the water to really rub it in that you live on the ‘best coast.’” He did finger quotes on ‘best coast’ because he was absolutely quoting Billy. Billy opened his mouth to say something—probably a joke about how he didn’t know that Steve even knew the word aesthetic—but he took a closer look at Steve’s face and evidently thought better of it. Instead, he looked at the fat raindrops splattering the windowpane, and then back at Steve. A slow smile spread across his face.

“Well then what are we waiting for?” Billy asked with a grin. Steve looked from him to the window and back. 

“It’s raining,” he said flatly. Billy’s smile went wider. 

“So you’re telling me that you made this reservation—“ he glanced back down at Steve’s phone—“three weeks ago, and you’re going to let a few April showers stand in the way of a great plan?” Steve flushed bright red. The date on that reservation was something he hadn’t actually intended to share. He hoped Billy wouldn’t ask about it. It took a minute for Billy calling it a great plan to land, but when it did, Steve smiled. 

“I knew you’d love it,” he said a little smugly. 

“No you didn’t, or you wouldn’t be so happy that I just called it a great plan,” Billy shot back, and Steve wasn’t sure why Billy had to be so mean, and also so right all the time. It was deeply unfair. He tried to come up with a snarky response, but Billy was already standing up from the table. 

“Get your raincoat,” Billy said as he put his smoothie glass in the sink and walked off toward his room. “I’m getting dressed and then we’re going roller skating.”

The rental shop was open, though the guy behind the counter was clearly not expecting anyone to actually show up. He kept shooting worried glances out the door, to where the pavement was wet and covered in puddles. He asked them repeatedly, as they signed the paperwork, if they understood that the company renting them the skates was not responsible for any injury they might  sustain. While being idiots in the rain went unspoken, but was clearly implied. 

Once they had their skates on, it went better than Steve had anticipated. The rain, after the first half hour, was barely even noticeable, since they were both basically soaked through. Steve hadn’t roller skated in years, but he was steadier on his feet than he had any right to be. Billy spent the first ten minutes filming Steve, no doubt in the hopes of catching him eating it on the sidewalk. Steve had several wobbly moments where he was sure he looked ridiculous, but he took pride in the fact that he managed not to fall. Eventually Billy put away his phone and started actually trying to skate himself.  He was shakier than Steve had been to start, but he adapted quickly, as usual. Soon they were gliding along the concrete path pretty successfully, stopping often to look at the rain coming down over the marina and the bay. Billy skated straight into every puddle he could find, and was happiest when he could manage to splash Steve. 

They made their way out to the end of the waterfront and sat down to rest on a rocky jetty. Steve raised his face to the sky. The rain had slackened a bit, but was still falling steadily. He closed his eyes and let it cool his flushed face. He felt Billy’s shoulder warm against his own, even through his raincoat. Billy hadn’t bothered with a jacket. 

“So why roller skating?” Billy asked. He sounded curious rather than mocking, which was promising. Steve kept his eyes closed and shrugged. 

“Like I said before, I thought you’d like it,” he said, hoping Billy would leave it alone and knowing he wouldn’t.

“Okay,” Billy said slowly. “But why make the plan at all?” Steve tried one more time to avoid this conversation. 

“We’re always either working or doing school stuff. I thought we could use the break.” Billy just sighed. 

“You made the reservation the same day we had that argument,” Billy said quietly, and it was Steve’s turn to sigh. He didn’t want to talk about this, and now he was going to have to. He tilted his head further back, but didn’t open his eyes. He focused on the sensation of raindrops on his face for a long moment before he spoke. He kept his voice quiet even though they were alone on the jetty, and he chose his words carefully.

“A few days before the argument, you asked me if I was going home for spring break. I said that I hadn’t decided, and then I asked you the same question. You eventually just said no, but I could tell that something about it bothered you. So I started thinking about it, and you almost never use that word. I’m pretty sure I’ve only heard you say it one time, and it was when you were being an absolute dick about carpooling to that stupid festival. You asked me how I was planning to get home, and I said I could find another ride back to the apartment, and you were mad at me for a week. At the time, I didn’t understand why it pissed you off so much. I probably still don’t fully get it, but I think I’m starting to understand a little better.” Steve paused, thinking about empty houses and unsafe houses and how he wanted to say the rest of it. 

“And?” Billy eventually prompted when Steve didn’t continue fast enough. 

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Give me a second. Or, you know, you could try just…letting something go for once.”

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Billy murmured, but he bumped Steve’s shoulder with his own encouragingly. Steve finally opened his eyes and looked over. Billy’s eyes were wide and blue and had some emotion Steve couldn’t identify in them. Steve tried not to think about what it could be. He looked back out at the water in front of him. 

“And then we had that stupid argument, and I said a lot of shit I didn’t feel good about and didn’t mean about you and Hawkins and your terrible mood, but for some reason it was worse than usual. You never want to go back, and I totally get it, and I’m sorry I kept asking about it, but something I said or did this time made it way worse.” Steve paused again, not sure where to go from here. 

“That’s why you decided not to go back to Hawkins,” Billy said eventually. “Because of that fight.”

“I mean, I mostly decided not to go back because I kind of hate it there sometimes, and they’re all coming here in a couple of months anyway,” Steve said, “but that was also part of it, yeah.” He shot Billy a small smile, but Billy was staring straight ahead. “I knew if I left you here by yourself, it would probably be bad. It took long enough to pull you out of it after Christmas. I couldn’t ask you to come with me, so I just decided to stay.” Steve tried to keep his voice light, but it still felt like admitting a lot. Just how closely he paid attention to Billy and his moods was a thing he would rather have kept to himself. But it was out there now, and there was nothing to do but wait and see how Billy was going to react. Steve shot him a sidelong glance to see if it seemed like he was angry, but he was still staring out at the water, expression unreadable. 

“So I was a total dick to you, and your response was to make plans to go roller skating because you thought I would like it,” Billy said flatly. 

“No?” Steve said because that’s not what happened. “I planned roller skating because something about spring break has had you in a shitty mood for a while now, and I thought maybe if we did something fun on the first day, it would, you know, get things off on the right foot. I also planned it because I said or did something during that argument that actually really upset you, and I still don’t know what it was, but I feel like a dick about it anyway.” 

“Steve,” Billy said, and it sounded a little like he was pleading. “It isn’t…it wasn’t…” He took a deep breath and paused for a long moment. “I really fucking hate this time of year,” he finally said slowly. “My parents sent me to a week of camp over spring break one year when I was about twelve.” His voice had taken on that flat, toneless quality that it often got whenever Billy got anywhere close to the topic of his mom. Steve pressed his shoulder a little harder into Billy’s, and felt relieved when Billy didn’t pull away. “It was some sports camp, I think. I don’t really remember much about it. When I got home on Friday afternoon, my mom was gone.” Steve’s head snapped up so he could look at Billy’s face, but he was still staring resolutely out at the water. His shoulders were tight and his jaw was set. “Most of her stuff was gone and my dad wouldn’t tell me where she was. The only thing he ever told me about it was that she was gone now, and we were just going to have to ‘soldier through.’ I found out later that he had her involuntarily committed. She had been struggling for a while, but he never wanted her to actually talk to someone about it. He just waited until I left and then dumped her in some facility. She spent the next few years in and out of mental hospitals, and then the years after that going in and out of rehab. I didn’t see her again before she died. I found her sister right before we moved to Hawkins, and she told me about it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy,” Steve whispered, slowly reaching out to lay his hand over Billy’s. Billy didn’t pull away, so Steve left his hand there. 

“No one’s ever asked before,” Billy said slowly. “About spring. I’ve hated the entire concept of spring break since I was twelve, and no one’s ever said anything about it before.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, feeling even worse than before. “Oh my God, during that fight I said that you had two weeks of vacation coming up and you were acting like somebody died.” Steve put his hands over his face. “I’m such a fucking asshole.” He dropped his hands and looked over at Billy, hoping he could find some way to say it so that Billy would understand— 

 —but then Billy was leaning toward him, and then Billy’s lips were on his and all of Steve’s thoughts left his head at the same time. Kissing, though. Kissing he was good at. It took him just a moment to get his bearings, and then Steve was turning his head to get a better angle and deepen the kiss. He had wanted to do this for a long time, so he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, Billy spoke before Steve could. 

“What I was trying to say,” he said seriously, “is that no one has ever asked me why I’m upset, much less gone out of their way to plan an activity to make me feel better.” He looked up at the rain for a long moment and took a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, “and I only waited because I thought you’d get over it eventually.” He glanced at Steve and then looked away. “We don’t have the best history, and I figured you’d start attending classes and meeting people, and you’d realize that there are a lot of people out there who have a lot less baggage than I do, and you’d eventually stop looking at me like that—” Billy ran a thumb over Steve’s cheekbone and Steve couldn’t help himself from leaning into the contact a little bit— “and that would probably be better for you in the long run. But you didn’t stop. And you just keep doing shit like this,” Billy said. 

“Making overly-complicated plans so I never actually have to have a conversation to resolve an argument?” Steve asked with a rueful smile. 

“Caring about how I feel, dumbass,” Billy replied with a shove to Steve’s shoulder. “Continuing to do thoughtful shit for me even though I sometimes actively make it difficult for you to be nice to me,” Billy said. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, with a shrug that did nothing to conceal how emotional he was, “it’s not like I’m baggage-free. I’m pretty sure you could find someone to be nice to you who doesn’t just…entirely forget how to breathe sometimes.” Billy looked at him for a long moment and then smiled. 

“Nah,” he said. Then he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You said ‘overly-complicated plans.’” Steve closed his eyes and winced. “You had more stuff planned for today,” Billy said. It wasn’t a question. 

“Nothing major,” Steve said. “After we were done skating, I thought we could go to that taco place you like down by the water. And then I may have signed us up for—“ Billy cut him off with another kiss. Then he pulled back to get to his feet and held a hand out to help Steve up. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “We’re going to go pick up tacos because I fucking love those tacos, and then we’re going to take them back to the apartment—“ Steve was already shaking his head. “What?” Billy demanded. 

“I think what you meant to say,” Steve said, pulling Billy toward him on his skates, “was that we’re going to take them home, and—“ 

Once again, Billy cut him off before he could finish his sentence.