#and then the guy arguing calls this girl a supermodel

[lindyloosims]

Chapter Two, Part Three:

"I'll come by tomorrow and see how you're getting on!"

"That would be nice. And then why don't we all go and see Charlotte? I think she could do with more visitors, she strikes me as a kinda lonely person!"

Dex smiled, she was so sweet! "She is, and you're right, we should!"

"Goodnight Dexter!"

"Night freckles!"

"I'll let that slide just this once pretty boy given that I'm so exhausted! But do not call me freckles!" she smirked.

"Okay, I'll stop calling you freckles when you stop callin' me pretty boy, deal?"

"Freckles it is then!" her smirk grew into a wide smile, "See you in the morning!"

As he watched her descend the stairs, all he could think about was "I'm never gonna be able to tell her!" and it made his heart sting as he clenched his fists digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands drawing a little blood, why couldn't he just say it? Tell her he liked her…a lot! Even when he was arguing with her he wanted to shut her up by smothering her lips with his own, take her in his arms and feel her close. Her scent lingering around him made him go crazy, he just wanted to hold her, he needed to touch her but was so afraid that if he did he'd break her! He had every chance to tell her everything, he'd done it loads of times before with so many girls! "Hey how ya doin'? how about you and me go out sometime? I think you're cute so give me your number!" it worked, it always worked!!! A wink and a smile, so easy to do…so hard to do with Lainie, why? It was a question that had haunted him since he first laid eyes on her, and he wasn't going to find the answer any time soon!

Lainie felt a warmness surround her entire body, Dexter was cute…for a pretty boy! She felt so embarrassed over her outburst and how mean she was! She guessed that tiredness did that to you. The thought of Dex and the boys coming to help with the refurbishment of the old bistro felt like a weight lifting off of her shoulders! And the fact that she got to ogle Dexy made it ever so appealing! Yeah she had a crush on him, so what? It was just a fantasy! A guy like him could never fall for a girl like her! He was handsome, sexy and talented and she was…frumpy, clumsy and grumpy! But there was no harm in her lusting after him, was there? Secretly of course, she didn't want his ego to get any bigger did she?

Dexter wondered if she'd ever see how much he liked her. Without him having to spell it out. Some unspoken gesture he could make that would cause minimum embarrassment. Could his reason for keeping quiet be the fact that he was…falling in love?

Lainie always thought that if someone was constantly flooding your every thought every waking minute of the day…then they were something special. And she had to admit that Dexter occupied her mind quite a bit! He turned her head and he touched her hand so tenderly the day they met, that touch changed her. Dexter spoiled other men for Lainie, they couldn't compare! He smelled gorgeous, he was well groomed and well dressed even in a holey Nirvana vest! He was just perfect, and she was hardly a supermodel! No, Lainie would focus on her diner and leave Dexter Maloney in her dreams at night!

Dexter watched Lainie go into her flat and close the door without even looking back up. As he stood feeling useless for not speaking up, a voice made him jump, "You like her…don't you?"

"Charlotte, I'm really not in the mood for this right now!"

"Well it is after 2, I've been reading! It was nice to do that in silence once you'd stopped your infernal racket! And you really really like her don't you?"

"Char!"

"She's a lovely girl! I was hoping she'd stop by and talk to me like she promised but she's been busy! Mr Fuzzickles told me!"

"You should tell her how you feel! I think you'd make a beautiful coupling Dexter, I really do!"

"Well there's the rub huh? I can't!"

"No such word as can't! Cannot maybe, I was reading all about this! You see there's this girl, and she's in love with this boy, he's equally in love with her or…wait…no that was a dream! And in the dream you were the boy and Lainie was the girl and…"

"CHAR!"

"What I mean is, you two are each other's destiny! It only takes one of you to take the plunge and say "I love you!" easy yes? And ever so romantic!"

"No Charlotte, it's really not that easy! Believe me, I tried!"

Lainie instantly fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and Dexter Maloney flooded her thoughts as a smile spread across her face.

And when Dexter finally went back inside the boys' flat, his brother and best friend were waiting in anticipation, "So?" Ash demanded rather too excitedly.

"So what?" Dex gave him a puzzled look as he headed for his room.

"You snog her then?" Drew winked at him.

 "Grow up you guys! Can't two adults of the opposite sex have a platonic relationship without you two turning it into something...sordid and seedy?"

"Not really Dexter, your reputation precedes you!" Ash chuckled softly.

"I'm going to bed! Goodnight children!"

"He snogged her!" Drew nodded and smiled.

"The old Dexter maybe, but he's not so cocky nowadays Andrew if you hadn't noticed!"

"Do you think it's got something to do with me and Jeremy? Do you think he misses him in the band?"

"No! Don't even think that!"

"Ash, it's my fault he walked out! I…I'm sorry!"

"I know, Dexter told me. He's not mad, not at you! And breaking up with Rosalie has got a lot to do with his new attitude believe me!"

"Still, he was close to Jeremy and I…drove him away!"

"Look it wasn't your fault Drew! He was gonna walk anyway and he was a little punk! I told Dexter that from the start, but you three were always as thick as thieves, well…I could always tell that you had your reservations over Jeremy!"

"You know Ash, you always did know me better than anybody, even Dex! When I'm with you guys I no longer feel like an only child, I feel like I have two brothers who'll look out for me through thick and thin. But you, you treat me the same way you treat Dex, and I appreciate it!" Drew looked down at the carpet, the guilt still lingering in the back of his mind. He knew Ash didn't blame him, but what about Dex? He always managed to see past Jeremy's moods and cruel attitude. Then losing Rosalie made Dex even less interested in the band, especially now he had to play keyboard and sing!

"I'm off to bed, try and forget about Jeremy! So we were a foursome, and now we are three! It matters squat bro!" But Ash's words were no comfort, Dex formed the band and Drew felt like he'd destroyed it, and that was something he would have to live with!

When Lainie woke up that morning and got dressed, Kev was still there! She told Roxy to stay away from the diner and focus on getting rid of him. Mickey had done a wonderful job with the decorating, now all Lainie had to focus on was where her furniture was to go! Her counters and tables…then have her kitchen re-built!

As she looked around, about to meet Dex and the boys and head up to Charlotte's, she smiled to herself and exclaimed "This is all mine!" things were going to work out! Her dream was taking shape! One step closer…

So that's chapter two! Next chapter we'll learn a bit more about "Jeremy" and Lainie goes on a blind date *gasp* and it's not Dexter! Much to his annoyance and disgust! Kev continues to come between the girls and Ash clashes with a certain couple of dedicated groupies!

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

[howshemovesnj]

The “Short Men and Dating” Controversy

A man’s height is controversial in dating and there are MANY angry discussions about it online, so since I’m 5”7, let’s dig in! I have never been called short by a woman but of course, this is the type of thing that would never be said in polite conversation. I know I’m perceived as short, because in fifth grade, I was called “Short Dweeb” by another kid I was arguing with. In my late twenties, I got into an argument online with a guy I knew in person. He referred to my “little hobbit ass.” Why use that as an insult? He had never seen my hairy bare feet, so the only reason he’d compare me to a hobbit would be because I’m short, right? I have no concrete evidence if my height has been a factor in my luck with dating, so let’s explore the dating histories of four short guys I know of.

              Guy A was a close college friend. He was even shorter than me and had a nasal voice plus kind of an obnoxious, pushy personality. He had bad luck with girls his freshman year. He even pissed a girl off because he “stalked” her at a school carnival (her words were relayed back to him through a mutual friend of ours). His sophomore year, he got a hot blonde girlfriend taller than him. He told us she said he was handsome. I was sitting with my other group of friends at dinner once, and the two of them walked in. My tall bodybuilder friend remarked, “How’d he pull that off?” I said, “She says he’s handsome.” He replied, “I’m insulted!” People are aware of leagues in dating, and my muscular friend was obviously surprised, even annoyed that my other short friend could get a hot blonde. So, Guy A and this girl went out for three years, but it didn’t work out. He and I kept hanging out after that, and he went back to struggling with women, complaining about the “friend-zone” and how they want “bad boys” while he deserves love just because he has a good job, apartment, etc. He’s now 40 at the time of this article and I don’t believe he’s had a girlfriend since. He has had many female friends. However, he did date that babe for a while. He’s what I call a “one-hit wonder.”

              Guy B is only a bit taller than me and is also a one-hit wonder. He had a cute girlfriend over a decade ago but has been single since. He’s nice, good, and has a lot of close, loyal friends, but I think he’s just not perceived as sexy. I’ve mentioned before how I can tell when a man is attractive. He is by no means ugly, but he has this sort of goofy face that almost makes him look like a cartoon character: cute but not hot, if that makes sense. I know of another middle-aged guy like this who has this same goober face, and I don’t believe he has had a girlfriend recently. He also has a history of posting footage from strip clubs and raunchy television shows on social media, so make of that what you will. I think he’s very horny, and I can certainly relate! Talking about someone’s face may make me sound very shallow and judgmental but let me tell you why I bring it up: I THINK I MYSELF HAVE THIS KIND OF GOOBER FACE. I mentioned before that I’m no Channing Tatum, but I think I might also have a “cute but not sexy” face. Because people are polite, I can only speculate that this combined with my height puts me in that harmless unsexy friend category with women.

              Guy C is also short with a goofy face but is married… to a heavy woman. I know, whoa, body shaming! However, I must point out her weight to do a true deep dive into this issue. This fact is relevant because many short men and “incels” complain that they can only get fat women, and not the “hot” women they want. As for Guy C and the missus, looks are not everything. There is no doubt in my mind that they could have something deep and meaningful beyond physical appearances. But for the sake of what I’m discussing, it is worth mentioning that neither one of them is pulling a supermodel anytime soon. Could they be wonderful human beings who are perfect for each other? Absolutely! There are many successful relationships and marriages between two average or below-average-looking people. Long-term commitments are based on interpersonal and emotional factors that go way deeper than physical sex appeal. But if you only want a fit woman and you’re not a tall stud, your mileage is going to vary. There is also nothing wrong with that. I am fit and although I’m not tall, I do not settle for anyone who isn’t fit herself.

              Lastly, Guy D was kind of short, but he was very good-looking. He didn’t have a goofy face. He might have even been considered for a modeling contract, and guess what? He was a CrossFitter who was dating an attractive girl with a fit body who worked out at the same box! Here’s a crazy fact. One day, our box did this competition in the Poconos. We all went to dinner afterwards and I could hear a conversation Guy D was part of. He sheepishly mentioned that amongst his group of male friends, he was the “only one who could get laid.” There you have it! Everything about your physical appearance is a factor. If only I was as good-looking as Guy D.

              Why explore this issue? With all the grievances that have been made online ten times over about short men not getting women, I have never seen a real nuanced discussion of personal experiences and comparisons amongst a variety of short men. I’ve seen guys state they can’t get dates because they’re short, I’ve seen responses to them telling them to change their attitude and just “be confident,” and I’ve seen people give the example of that one short dude they know who has everything else going for him and never has a problem with the ladies. Tom Cruise is somewhere in that equation. I just decided to unpack this myself and share it with the world. Cheers!

[stephspurs]

ONLY ANGEL - A John Stones Fanfiction

STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST

The lights go down, the room turns dark, a murmur of people still trying to find their seats settles into the otherwise silence. The floor to ceiling screen behind the runway awakens to show a video montage of arguably the most famous supermodels in the world. “It’s difficult being a woman, and other women understand that...but it’s also fun to be a woman and I think we should be able to own that”

The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is unlike any other in the world, it is the equivalent of the SuperBowl for supermodels. Bodies like Gisele Bundchen, Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, grace the runway year in year out for the most-celebrated lingerie event in the runway calendar. A change of scenery for the traditionally American-based fashion show saw the glittery stage set up and a plethora of beautiful women touch down in London town.

Josephine Andersen, a 25 year old Danish-born supermodel found herself sitting backstage in hair and makeup, in a scantily-clad lingerie set with the iconic barely-there silk wrap adorned with the famous branding across the back of her shoulders and ‘Angel Josephine’ across her left side, right above her beating heart. Make no mistake, Josephine was meant to be here. She had worked hard every single day since the last runway event that she was fortunate enough to have walked in for the lingerie brand, to prove her rightful place as an Angel.

Yes, success is the direct result of hard work - and there was no denying that Josephine was a hard worker. She knew that she wasn’t special, and like most, she would have to work for what she wanted out of her life. What she didn’t know before going into the modelling industry at the ripe old age of 13, was that it was as mentally challenging as it was physical. Everyday was a constant battle between her head, her heart, and her agent. Nevertheless, she was aware of how difficult it was to be a woman, but she was also aware of just how fun it could be too.

John Stones, a 27 year old Barnsley-born (although his mate Kyle Walker would argue the point that his postcode says Sheffield but that's a story for another time) footballer for Manchester City Football Club, found himself sitting front row of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in London. He had never attended an event quite like it before, his mates sat either side of him ready to enjoy the spectacle that he didn’t think he would ever have the pleasure of attending. With the current season underway and the fact that his home club was a whole 4 hour drive away from his current location, it was a small miracle that the group of lads from Manchester were allowed to attend at all. These boys were down for a night of beautiful women, lingerie and getting up to no good.

The music started, the screen went black, the crowd erupted in applause for the first model through the parting screen - Angel Josephine. Strutting down the runway to Harry Styles' live version of Only Angel, John was mesmerised by the woman before him. She was working the crowd, sensual glances, little smirks, a cheeky grin here and there. Standing at the end of the runway, facing the abundance of cameras, Josephine gave her best smile and a confident wink to the camera before tossing her hair over her shoulder and proceeding to walk back up the runway.

John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the girl, he wasn’t sure he had blinked since she stepped foot out on the runway - if he closed his eyes for just a millisecond he would miss too much. He was addicted to her beauty, never having seen something so ethereal in his life. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the champagne, but he honestly believed that there was an angel before him. Following her with his eyes as she walked back towards where he was seated, he made eye contact with her and she held it. Sending him a wink, and blowing him a kiss before smirking to herself and exiting the stage. She had no idea the effect that she had on the otherwise cocky man, she had reduced him to a puddle of mush, too intimidated by her beauty. The moment she was out of his sight, it was like he could breathe again, the sound that was previously muted around him returned to its full volume and his tunnel vision had widened to take in the whole show. Taking another sip of his champagne, he caught the eye of his best friend Kyle (yes, the same Kyle from earlier) who smirked and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Kyle had seen the whole interaction, albeit limited and largely one sided, and knew exactly what kind of trouble his friend could get himself into here.

Backstage Josephine was being ushered from the runway to the small curtain that was hanging from a clothes rack, providing a make-shift dressing room for her to strip off of the current segments undergarments and into the next set that had been so kindly draped over the top rail by one of the wardrobe assistants. Normally she would be thriving under the fast paced nature of the evening, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug, however she was encumbered by her own thoughts of the devilishly handsome man in the front row. His eyes were engraved in the back of her mind, when she shut her own eyes she could see the intensity of his stare - it was numbing her, slowing her down. She was desperate for another glance at him, being brought back into the moment by the yell of a backstage hand asking for her to hurry and get into her next wings, she stripped and redressed. Was she lightheaded from the pressure that she had placed on herself to prepare for the evening, or was it because he seemed to take up all of the air in the room and space in her brain? She could argue that she was fulfilling her role as an Angel by winking at him and blowing him a little kiss. It was her job to flirt with the crowd and put on a show after all, but she knew exactly what her intentions were and they were nothing but devilish.

Perhaps the only event more iconic than the fashion show itself, the afterparty was what most people involved in the show looked forward to. The humans, even with their celebrity status, had the opportunity to mix with the angels - who, for one night only, let go of their halos and swapped them for horns. For one night, the beautiful women of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show in all of their angelic glory; could be as bad as they dared to. This was the unspoken truth of the after party, and if you had the fortune of being able to attend, it was not an event easily passed up.

John found himself once again surrounded by his mates, mingling with the models and his celebrity pals alike. Not once had he forgotten about the first angel he had ever laid eyes on, he didn’t even know her name but by God did he know her body. It was as though the 30-odd seconds she was before him his eyes scanned her from head to toe, every curve of her body engraved into his memory. He could remember how the light reflected off of the body shimmer she had bathed in before walking the runway, how the curve of her waist continued at the perfect degree to complete her perfectly-sized derriere. Before long, he felt the room get smaller and smaller, the air was thicker and his hearing had started to muffle. She was standing in his direct line of sight - not that it would matter if she was standing on the other side of the room, behind a crowd of people, John’s eyes would find and fixate on her.

John watched as she worked the room, obligatory pleasantries flowing from her lips as she double kissed the cheeks of men who were old enough to be her grandfather. He watched their leather-like hands wrap themselves around her lower back, too low for his liking. He watched her smile and pretend that she was comfortable, but he could see the look behind her eyes scream that she shouldn’t trust their words - that they didn’t want to just buy her a drink. Without realising, his hands started to curl around his scotch glass until he had to put it down on the table before him and excuse himself from the company of his friends and the new company they had invited to their table. Weaving his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the side of her face, he began to make his way towards her. No plan of action, nothing to say, anything would be good enough in an attempt to rescue her from what is looking to be her own personal version of hell. As though the universe had willed it, she looked into the crowd and locked onto the gaze of the tall man who was currently striding towards her. The look on his face told everyone around them that they weren’t to get in his way, to mess with him.

Reaching her, she held her breath and waited for his next steps. Josephine didn’t know what to expect, but the handsome smile that erupted from his previously pursed lips and filled up his face had sent her heart into a frenzy. For just that moment, she chose to believe that that smile was reserved for her and only her. Reaching forward and coincidentally knocking the older man’s arm from around her waist and replacing it with his own, he leant forward and planted a loud kiss to her cheek before wrapping her in a hug that warmed her soul. Her whole body pushed into his, she was unable to see his face but she could hear his heart and it told her that she was safe.

“I’m so proud of you, babe. I reckon I'm the luckiest guy in the room to be able to call you my girlfriend” He said into her ear, loud enough for the group of older men to hear and begin to talk amongst themselves after realising they had no chance with the Danish beauty, not that she ever gave them that impression to begin with.

Pulling away from the tall man, she looked up at him and gave him her best smile, a sincere smile. She ran her hands down from his back and found his hands that were placed on her waist, lacing their fingers together and pulling him off into the crowd to the bar.

“So, boyfriend, do you have a name?” She spoke whilst picking up the vodka on the rocks - not her favourite drink but it had little to no calories and anything that had a calorie count lower than her weight, which was difficult enough to find in the first place, was a win in her eyes.

“John, but I prefer to be called your boyfriend, even if it's only for one night” John spoke back to her, looking down at the angel who had covered herself up a bit more since the last time he had the pleasure of looking at her. However, the outfit she was currently wearing still allowed John’s mind, and eyes, to wander. A secret moment shared between the two in an overcrowded room.

PART 2. (smut warning)

[chaoticforever]

Playboy Having Fun Part 2 | Yandere Dean Winchester x Playboy! Reader x Yandere Sam Winchester

A/N: Part 1 right here!

Fear. 

Was one emotion that you never felt. 

How could you feel fear? You were someone who smelled fear from a mile away, not someone who has it. It also has to do with how you were trained to be. You were trained to be a soldier, a warrior, a fighter who can take anyone out and can break someone with their own words. 

Just how you were made to be. Eons ago. 

You, along with Castiel were one of Heaven's strongest soldiers, and one of the most powerful Angels in the Garrison. 

The two of you always fought side by side, protecting each other and taking care of any demons, or other creatures who would get in your way. You both led armies at one point and did a hella good job at it, too.

You loved being an Angel of the Lord. Well, that was until he came along. 

Caleb. 

Another angel that was created by your father to assist you on missions when Castiel had missions he needed to go on alone. 

You and Caleb had spent many decades with one another. Fighting and smiting various beings, and even going to earth sometimes when you both had nothing to do, but sit at the park and watch over your father's creations. 

He even kissed you at one point which was weird at the time and made you feel something that you weren't supposed to feel.  

Unlike Castiel, you actually understood human behavior and emotions, having spent a lot of time watching over them. 

And when Caleb saved you from a demon attack, you felt that emotion again and knew what that emotion was. 

Love. 

You were in love with Caleb and this was a huge problem because you were not supposed to feel human emotions, but you were somehow able to. 

You'd hope Michael wouldn't find out.

He was the Viceroy of Heaven since father was absent. He could either lock you up, or banish you from Heaven. 

So, you decided to ignore these feelings. 

They would surely go away soon and everything would be okay again. That was what you thought at first before one day, Caleb confessed that he somehow developed feelings for you. 

Michael found out and flipped out. He liked Caleb, but couldn't have him in Heaven anymore, so he banished him to earth and erased his memory. He was reborn and would live a human life. 

You were so pissed at Michael and wanted to hurt him for that, but knew that you wouldn't win that fight. You may be a powerful angel, but Michael was an Archangel, making him way more powerful than you. 

Feeling hurt and confused, you called on your father and begged for him to send you to earth and be reborn as well, but with your memories kept. 

You wanted to be with Caleb again and didn't even care about being an angel anymore. Father had abandoned all of you, so he could at least grant you this one wish from wherever he was. 

And that he did. 

You were reborn again and still had the memories of your former life along with a vessel that was yours forever. 

As you grew up, you met Caleb again in college, of course he didn't remember who you were, but you were at least hoping he'd remember his former life. 

Since he didn't remember you, you took the liberty of being his best friend instead. You'd rather keep him as your best friend since he couldn't remember and became a playboy to hide the feelings that would remain unrequited. 

In all of that has happened, you never felt fear. Not the fear of losing Caleb, or the fear of not returning back to Heaven, so what was Castiel on about that? 

That was a good question. 

"...What?" You asked, setting your drink down on the table, "What did you say?" 

"It's Sam and Dean," Castiel said once again, "They have grown an obsession towards you and also put up angel sigils that stops me from entering the bunker. It's best if you stayed away from them." 

You blinked at the angel and massaged your temples, letting out a sigh of frustration. Now, this was starting to get out of hand. None of the people you slept with ever acted this way. Were you really that hot? You knew the answer to that, but you were not going to fear these little humans. 

"Castiel," You sighed, "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Their obsession with me will go away eventually once they realize I'm not into them." 

Castiel shook his head, "Don't be so sure of that, Y/N. Don't ever underestimate the Winchesters. They are dangerous and my grace is running low, so I might not be able to protect you if they come after you." 

"And you shouldn't underestimate me either," You retaliated, "Don't forget that I was one of Heaven's strongest soldiers, you as well." You reminded him. 

"But I still have my powers. You don't." He pointed out. 

"That's true, but I still have my skills   and intellect from my life as an angel. That didn't go away, not to mention that I can still see your true form if I want too." 

Castiel sighed, it was so hard to reason with you. You were too stubborn to see that something is clearly wrong with them. 

You were his oldest friend and he didn't want anything bad to happen to you. 

"Just please make sure that you carry your knife around all the time cause humanity is causing me to weaken." 

"Jeez Castiel! I'll make sure to carry my knife around. Damn, why did those writers have to make you, a strong angel so weak throughout the seasons." 

"What?" 

"Nothing, man! Now, go wherever you go, or you can sleep in the guest room."

Castiel went to the guest room that he would sometimes stay in when he came to visit you. He mostly stayed there when he would lie to the Winchesters and tell them that he had Heaven business to attend to, or when he didn't feeling like being bothered by them. 

You drank the rest of your glass before walking into your room and crawling into bed, putting your phone on the charger. 

You put the covers over your body and closed your eyes, feeling yourself about to drift off to sleep. As you began drifting off, everything that Cas told you came rushing back to you in an instant. 

Their obsession would go away, right?

XXXXX XXXXX 

Multicolored lights flashed on the dance floor, as dancing sweaty bodies pressed up against each other. Music blared throughout the club as you danced to some of the songs with a bunch of people's eyes on you. Apparently, you were the main focus tonight, but you loved it. You've always loved attention, and the spotlight. 

Castiel had insisted for you not to go back to the bar you met the Winchesters at, even though you told him that it's been a week and nothing has happened to you, he was still cautious about it, so you ended up going to this bisexual club that has recently opened. 

Alex ditched you when he got here, seeing a hot girl somewhere, and Caleb works the night shifts, unfortunately. So, you decided to dance by yourself with the exception of people looking at you. 

A pair of large arms wrapped around you, taking a huge sniff of you, "Damn, you look so sexy out here. You're definitely teasing almost everyone in here with the way you were dancing." 

You turned your head slightly to see a dark skinned man with brown eyes and curly hair. This man was absolutely handsome. 

"Elliot!" Someone shouted through the loud music and you saw a woman with brown hair and hazel eyes along with glasses walking up to you, "I thought we were going back to your place to have some fun," She whined and turned to stare at you when Elliot didn't respond, "Well, that's not far, Elliot! This guy is freakin' hot!" She exclaimed, and you felt heat crawl up to your face. 

"I'm sorry Candance, but this guy is too hot to pass up." He responded, not letting go of you at all as she rolled her eyes. 

Though, she couldn't blame Elliot. 

You were freakin' hot. Like supermodel hot and she would love to have one night with you herself. 

"Or," You suddenly spoke up, and Candace turned to face you while Elliot lifted his head up from your neck to look at you, "How about we turn this into a threesome instead?" 

"I'm down for that," Elliot said without a second thought and turned to face Candace, "Are you down for that?" 

She pondered at that thought. To have a chance with these two muscular men. There was no way she could pass up this opportunity. 

She nodded, "Sounds like a good idea." 

Elliot unwrapped himself from around you and took a hold of your right hand, leading you out of the club as Candance took a hold of your left, going with you guys. 

Some bodies pressed up against you when you were leaving, but you didn't mind despite feeling their eyes on you. 

Introductions of names were made as all three of you exited the club along with Elliot and Candance glaring at some people who tried to take you. 

Exiting the club, the cool breeze hit your face and you loved the way it felt since you were in that club with a bunch of sweaty bodies. 

"I think you both should be warned," Elliot spoke, which caused you and Candance to look at him, "Most people call me The Punisher when were in bed together." 

"Punisher? And why do people call you that?" You asked and Candance nodded. 

"That I would have to show you." 

"Are you a bad boy?" You teased. 

Elliot smirked, "Something like that." Oh, you wanted to know why he's called the punisher. 

"Get away from Y/N, and we won't hurt any of you." A gruff voice insisted and to the right of you, there they were. 

The Winchesters. 

You huffed, "Why are you guys here?" 

"We came to bring you home." Sam said, taking a step forward as you backed up behind Elliot and Candance who stood in front of you protectively. 

"And I told you both already that what we had was a one night stand, that's all."

"It was more than a one night stand," Dean argued, clearly stuck in his own delusion, "That night showed us how much you love us, and how much we love you. You're coming home with us and you're going to love us." 

"You guys are freakin' sick!" 

"Were sick?" Sam scoffed, "Us loving you with both our hearts means that were sick? I think you're the sick one and your ours, okay? We love you and you're coming with us." 

Elliot pushed Dean and Sam back a few feet with one hand, and they stumbled back slightly in this alley, "He's not going with you guys. You heard the man, he doesn't want anything to do with you both, so it's time for you to bounce." 

The brothers shared a brief look with each other before pulling out 2 guns, aiming it at Elliot and Candance as Candance screamed. 

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and you kicked the gun out of Dean's hand and kicked him where the sun don't shine. He fell down, clutching his groin. 

You went to kick the gun out of Sam's hand, but he was quicker. He moved the gun out of your reach and hit the gun over your head, knocking you out. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

When you awoke after some time, you saw that you were chained to a bed and was in a room that you didn't recognize. 

The room wasn't big, but wasn't small either. Pictures covered the creamy colored walls, and you saw a map of the town you resided in. Red dots were covering certain locations and you realized that those were the places you had been. 

Seems as if The Winchesters has been watching you long before you had that one night stand with them. 

The door opened and Dean walked in, seeing that you were awake. 

"You're finally awake, my little prince." He walked over to your side, grabbing the back of your head and tried to kiss you on the lips, but you moved your head to the side and got your cheek instead. He looked disappointed, "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I'm sorry that Sam hit you over the head, but you had it coming." 

"Dean, please just let me go," You pleaded. You never pleaded for anything in with the exception of your father, but you were willing to plead if it meant that you could leave, "I don't belong here." 

"Actually, you do belong here," Sam entered the room and kissed you on the forehead, "And the reason for that is because we need to protect you. We both have watched you from afar for a long time and infatuation turned into an obsession once we saw how many people are attracted to you. We can't let you leave. We lost so many people in our lives and we can't lose you, too." 

"Too many people," Dean chimed in, "And we refuse to lose you too, so we decided to lock you up here for our eyes only. We love you, Y/N. We want you as ours and to never share you with anyone else." Dean kissed you, on the lips this time, "Do you love us, too?" 

"I. Hate. You. Both. So. Much." 

Boy, was that the wrong thing to say. 

Their eyes widened in anger, and Sam grabbed your chin roughly, making you face him as you tried your best to make sure that you didn't look scared. 

Sam grinned at you, "We are going to have so much fun breaking you down. And you're not going to have a choice, but to love us." Sam walked out of the room and now it was Dean's turn to grab your chin roughly. 

You will break for us, sweetheart. And you'll love us the way we love you. Your playboy days are over. We promise to cherish you and love you for as long as well all shall live, and your going anywhere, my little prince. Ours forever."

Dean left the room and you stared at the wall ahead with a complete blank stare.  

You let out a sigh. How did this happen? How did you go from a playboy just having fun to getting kidnapped by two crazy obsessed hunters? 

You tried calling out to Cas, but there was no answer. 

An unpleasant feeling made you feel like you weren't getting out of this situation. 

But you did have an upper hand against them because there was a little flaw in their plan to break you down until you break completely. You couldn't be broken. 

After all, how can someone with no soul be broken?

XXXXX XXXXX 

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-22)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Anxiety, feels, light flirting?

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Hey peeps, just wanted to thank you guys for all the love. Y’all are awesome! <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Thank you, babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Jesus, kid! Don’t you ever pull that one on me again, okay?”

Max was trying to escape his embrace, but Sam didn’t budge. His heart was still beating out a disjointed rhythm.  

“I didn’t do anything!” Max protested.

Alex was quick to interject. “You ran out on me.”        

Max turned in the circle of his arms glaring at Alex. “Only because you fell asleep.”

Alex’s face got all red and she sneaked a nervous glance at Sam.

“She’s got school in the morning,” Sam told Max. “She was tired. That doesn’t mean you can run out on her.”

“This isn’t the first time either,” Alex put in, emboldened by Sam’s support. “He ran to her on Sunday as well.”

“What’s this, Max?” Sam didn’t want to make his voice stern, but the fear wasn’t helping. Alex had called him towards the end of his meeting to tell him she couldn’t find Max. Sam’s heart had dropped through the ground at the mere thought. By the time he could ask Chase to pull out his car- Sam’s was still parked in the campus- a second call from Alex had already informed him that Max was back and okay. But Sam couldn’t stay put. He’d made Chase drive him back anyway.

“She’s my friend.” Max muttered.

“You’ve only met her twice!” Alex accused.

Max threw Alex a betrayed look, mumbling to himself.

Sam rubbed his face with his hand. “What’s happening?”

Alex started to say something, but Max interjected. “I want to tell him!”

“Alright, go on.”

Max told him about a new friend he’d made in one of the buildings along the playground, and that he was going to see her on Monday again.

Sam shot a look at Alex to confirm and she nodded encouragingly. Falling asleep on the watch might have been a one time thing, otherwise Alex was both smart and thorough. She wouldn’t have agreed to anything that wasn’t safe for Max.

“I can go, right?”

“Only if you promise to never go out by yourself.”

Max made an excited sound. “Yes!”

“Okay, enough of this moping,” Chase announced. He had been standing uncharacteristically quiet, watching the drama unfold. “Alex gets to sleep, Max gets his date and Sam gets to chill. What does Chase get?”

Sam turned to him. “What do you want?”

“Food. I want food.”

Alex waved to Max, who didn’t acknowledge it. He was still mad about ratting him out. “Bye, Sam. Bye, Mr. Lincoln.”

Sam nodded, and Chase waved at her cheerfully.

Sam let go of Max, not really looking him in the eyes, lest he should sense just how freaked out Sam was. That’s not what kids should see in their parents- the fear of being incompetant. Sam had learned as much from Dean. His older brother had been absolutely confident in every decision he’d made for Sam. It was only in the later years that Sam realised how freaked out Dean must have been attempting to raise Sam, even with Bobby and Karen’s help. They were all always second guessing themselves. 

The next hour was spent on a call with Stacey. She debriefed Sam about the end of the meeting, promising to forward the transcripts after she was done with editing them. He was lucky to have found someone as efficient as her. She was a blessing. Sam appreciated that her first words were of concern for Max. Stacey had designed Sam’s schedule in such a foolproof manner that Max was never neglected. He couldn’t have been more grateful. To think that they had started their work relationship disliking each other.

Sam took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of his anxiety. Just the very thought of losing Max was enough to decapitate him. Later, as he diced the bell-peppers, his eyes kept going to the sofa where Max was playing connect four with Chase, who was sucking bigtime. It was something they did at least once a week. Right now, Chase was going on at length about how awesome the cookies were, that he was stealing from a jar. Sam didn’t remember buying any cookies at all.

A sting in his finger made him hiss. Looking down, he saw blood spreading into the bell-pepper pieces and the surface of the chopping board.

The next minute small hands were taking his finger, blowing on the cut and guiding him towards the sink.

“You never pay attention!” Max admonished.

“What do you care?” Sam muttered, washing his finger under the steady stream. The cut wasn’t too deep. “It’s not like you don’t love worrying me.”

Max huffed. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“No, I’m not. Seriously, Max, do you want me to stop going to work? How am I supposed to concentrate on anything if you’re going to be a flight risk?”

“I wasn't running away from home, okay? I just went to see my friend.”

Sam knew he was overreacting but what else was there to do? Alex had sounded so frantic on the phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Sam eyed his son, turning off the tap. “Is it Lucy from school?”

“Ewww nooooo!” Max cringed, making a face. “I don’t like Lucy!”

“Of course you don’t,” Sam grinned. He added more seriously, “Don’t push Alex, okay? She might decide to not babysit you anymore.”

“It’s your fault really,” Max shrugged. Chase who had gone to retrieve the first aid box- it was ridiculous he even knew where that was in the house- handed Sam a bandaid. 

Sam gave Max an incredulous look. “How is any of this my fault?”

“If you got me a mom, we wouldn’t need a babysitter!”

Sam barely even had the time to pick his jaw up when Chase started howling with laughter. He raised his hand and Max high-fived him.

“Wha- what?” He spluttered. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I told you, you had this coming, Samuel,” Chase chuckled, superior. “Even your boy seems to be scoring more dates here. And look at the little daredevil sneaking out to get em. What’re you waiting for? Divine intervention?” He lowered his voice just for Sam’s ears. “Even Steve from HR gets laid more than you. And he smells like Kleenex!”

Sam glared at his friend. “That’s it. Get out of my house! I’m not responsible for feeding you.”

“Now, now,” Chase placated, putting his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders from behind and giving them a squeeze. “Look at these muscles. Such a waste to not have beautiful arms draped around them.”

“Well, there’s always you!”

Chase huffed, drawing back. “You don’t pay me any attention.”

Max giggled.

Sam turned to his son. “Max, having a mom doesn’t mean you won’t have a babysitter. Working mothers are a thing!”

“He’ll, at least, have quality food,” Chase put in. “All you feed him is vegetables.”

“You know what? I’m done with the both of you. Go back to that game you were playing.”

“No,” Chase shook his head. “This is more fun. Why aren’t you asking Jess out?”

“You know why.” Sam wasn’t as patient this time as he had been the last ten times, since Chase had been badgering him every damn minute. “Go wash your hands, Max. And help Uncle Chase set up the table.”

Max knew he was being dismissed, so he made a whole show of slowly dragging himself from the kitchen counter and heading upstairs at the speed of a snail. Once he was surely out of earshot, Sam hissed at his friend. “Drop it, Chase! You know it’s not going to happen. Besides, the last time was embarrassing enough. I don’t know how to face her.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “She’s a grown ass woman and super hot. You’re lucky she’s into you,” He paused, the sly grin dancing in his eyes. “That was like three or four years ago. She must be long past it.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I don’t know how else to convince you,” Chase sighed, dropping all the teasing at once. “Jess is successful, beautiful and so damn smart. If a girl like that can’t move you, I don’t know what else to do for you.”

“You can always give up.”

“No chance.” Chase ran his fingers through his hair. “I just keep trying to understand what’s holding you back.”

It was Sam’s turn to sigh. “I’m married.”

“No, you’re not!” Chase argued, with more emotion than Sam had expected, enough to make him face his friend. “This isn’t marriage, Sam. This is you holding on to something dead with both your hands. Let go before your hands start decaying.”

“Don’t say that.” The pain in his own voice depressed Sam. 

Chase grimaced. “What would I not give to see this girl! Who is she? Some supermodel? Is she gilded out of diamonds or something?”

It was no point going in circles with Chase over this. Sam knew from years of experience that he wouldn’t give up. 

“What was her name again?”

“It’s-” Sam’s gaze shifted to the base of the staircase and found Max standing there, face blank. “We’ll talk later,” Sam whispered, wondering how much Max had heard.

The dinner was a quiet affair. Sam knew it wasn’t so because Chase and Max were appreciating the sensory overload of how amazing his stir fry was. Chase was sulking and Max was lost in thought. After Chase had left for the night, Sam set to cleaning the kitchen. Max came to sit by him on the island counter, picking out a cookie from the jar Chase had abandoned. 

“How was your day?” Max asked and despite himself Sam chuckled. There was something so odd about the question coming out of a six and a half year old.

“T’was alright,” Sam told him. Most of it had been very boring, except for the evening scare and the morning lecture in which he was mere feet away from Y/N, every cell in his body hyper aware of the fact that she was there. It was pathetic and Sam knew it. “I do have a hearing tomorrow. I think we’ll win this one.”

“What’s it about?”

“Property fraud. Very interesting.”

Wiping the kitchen top, and hanging the rag on the hook over the sink, Sam came to sit by his son. “How was your day?”

“Very interesting.” Max smiled, but didn’t elaborate. Not wanting to flare up his earlier irritation, Sam didn’t ask him for the details either. Instead, he dipped his hand in the jar and drew out a Choco chip cookie.

“Is it because of me that you don’t go out on dates?”

Max’s voice was small, diminished even and it made Sam draw in a quick breath.

“Max!” He exhaled. “Why would you say that?”

His boy wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Uncle Chase is right. You don’t have any fun. I know it’s because you have to spend all your free time with me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sam stated outright, shaking his head. “I know you don’t because not one second of the time spent with you has been a sacrifice. You’re my son. You’ve got to know that I would do anything for you.”

“Except get me a mom.”

“Mom’s don’t grow on trees or fall out skies, Max.” Sam reasoned trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “And don’t you ever say that I don’t have fun in life. We have fun, don’t we? I love that and wouldn’t change it for any girl in the world.”

“Not even for Y/N?”

Sam faltered, aghast. Maybe it was because he was thinking about Y/N so much already, or because Max didn’t usually bring her up, but somewhere inside him there was a nagging feeling that he was missing something here. Max’s question was natural in the context of the conversation… but the very conversation felt out of context. Max knew very well what he meant to Sam, and even if a part of him thought that Sam was sacrificing for his sake- Sam fervently wished that wasn’t the case- the Max he knew would never bring it up this conversationally. 

So he answered with complete conviction. “No. Not even for Y/N.”

“And you get this through your head, Max,” he continued, voice pained despite his efforts. “You and I are already a complete family. I love you with everything that I have. So long as we are together, you’ll make do with just me, won’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

Sam ruffled Max’s hair, and kissed his brow, rankled by his words. Regardless of what Sam had just said, wouldn’t it be nice for Max to have a mom? Even in his imagination the face was perfectly clear, the vision already there. He’d be lying to himself if he said that over the years he hadn’t thought about her holding Max, laughing with him. There was only ever one face that completed Sam’s daydream- Y/N’s. But Sam also knew just how impossible it was. Y/N wouldn’t even think of the aftermath of an accident, imagining her as a motherly figure was simply cruel. So much that the whiplash of it hit Sam’s conscience. It was why he hadn’t mentioned Max to her.

Trying to reign in his thoughts he absentmindedly took a bite of the cookie in his hand, chewing as he tried to dislodge the idea of Max and Y/N. Impossible… too painful, his mind screamed.

Abruptly, he stopped.

“Hey, Max? Sam asked slowly, “Where did you get these cookies?” 

“Umm, those girl scouts came over this afternoon,” he said, not meeting Sam’s gaze. “I asked Alex to buy. Is that okay?”

“You sure these are girl scout cookies?”

“Yep.”

Eating the rest of the cookie in one bite, Sam jumped down from the counter and turned to his boy. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t think like that again,” Sam pleaded. “That you’re keeping me from anything. You saved me, kiddo. I would have been barely worth anything without you.”

“Same,” Max quipped. And despite the absolute horror of the situation, and how true both of their words were, Sam found himself snorting. 

“Enough with the black comedy,” he ordered, “Lets go brush your teeth.”

“Yessum.”

Max leapt into Sam’s arms, and he carried his boy out of the kitchen. Sam eyed the jar of cookies one last time before switching off the lights. 

Friday, first day of Induction fair. It was going to be one long day tomorrow.

*******************

“Alright, everybody clear on what they’re supposed to be doing tomorrow?” 

“It’s 11:30 in the night, Y/N,” Seth complained, “We aren’t going to be any more ready.”

“I’m sorry,” you waved apologetically. “You guys should go home, I’ll wrap up the rest. I’m just nervous.”

“It’ll be okay,” Madison came to your side, putting her arm around your shoulders. “Seth’s just kidding. Aren’t you?” She turned on the poor guy who shook his head and you snickered.

“Okay, pack up y’all!” You called out to the people in the background busy with the last checks on the sound system. “We’re going to have a blast tomorrow.”

Cheers went up around you. One by one everyone clapped you on your back, offered smiles and went their way; only Madison, Brad and Rebecca remained. 

“Who are you taking with you to the Saturday night dance?” Brad asked.

Well crap! “A friend of mine,” you answered. You’d have to ask one of the guys if they were free Saturday evening.

“Hmm… Does this friend happen to go to Law school?”

“Nope!”

“We’ll at least have time for one dance,” Brad insisted, leaning next to you as you packed your bag. “Your friend won’t mind, will he?”

“Brad,” you sighed. “I’m clearly not your type.”

He put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not implying anything here, but if that’s what you got out of it…”

You ignored him, walking back towards Maddie. He kept up with you easily. “What about the dance? One dance is well deserved.”

“Okay, fine!” Better to just agree and get it done with. Brad left with a superior smirk and you wondered what was the deal with him.

“Brad’s a great guy,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know what kind of Prince Charming you’re waiting for that you keep turning him down at every opportunity.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” It was true. You had found someone who could put Prince Charming to shame and then you had lost him. Now, the most you could hope for was his friendship. The thinly veiled bitterness and longing in Rebecca’s voice when she spoke of Brad led you to believe that her dislike for you wasn’t reasonless after all.

At the quad, you stopped, letting the girls know that you’d be heading towards the library, to relieve Molly from her shift early. It was supposed to be your shift anyway, Molly was doing you a favor by subbing. 

“I’ll come with you,” Madison quipped. She waved a goodbye to Rebecca and the two of you set towards the library, your footsteps echoing in the night. 

Once Molly had left, Madison logged into one of the records PC’s and started working on the case studies for professor Whitman. Meanwhile, you logged into your mail to print out the schedules and itineraries for the speakers tomorrow.

Just as you were printing out the last set, your email pinged, alerting you to an email from Sam. It was ridiculous that your heart should leap out of your chest, especially when it was merely a reply to your assignment. It was past one, and Sam was still up checking coursework. 

Oh, how you wanted to reply back, ask him why he was up this late. But this was an official email ID. It would be wrong to get personal here. Unreasonable as it was, you were miffed that you didn’t have Sam’s phone number. Friends should be able to call each other, right? You could always find it out from the directory, however, you were stubborn about getting it from him.

“Hey, I just heard back from Professor Winchester,” Madison whispered, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the library. “I scored a 21.5!”

“That’s great!” You smiled.

“What about you? Did you hear from him yet?”

“Just. Scored a 23.”

Madison scrunched her nose, “I bet that’s the highest.” She sounded rueful, but you knew she didn’t mean any ill. “You mind if I take a look at your paper?”

“Course not.”

Madison read through your document carefully. “I can see why he rated you this high. This is great work, Y/N! I wonder…”

“What?”

She looked bemused. “In my email, he’s specifically pointed out all the good things and complemented me for my good work. In your reply he’s only pointed out the one flaw that cost you the two marks. He’s not said one good word about the rest.”

Maybe he thought you would understand, or maybe he was just too tired. If not commenting on your essay earned him ten extra minutes of rest, you were very glad that he hadn't.

You shrugged at Madison. “Maybe he forgot.”

“That’s not done,” she frowned. “You should ask him tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

A glazed look came over Madison’s face. “Remember the first time we were alone here?”

“We’d been trying to research for Mr. Winchester’s first assignment,” you smiled.

“And ended up stalking him instead,” Madison winked. “After I went home that day, I read up more about that sensationalised case of his. Really gruesome, the whole deal. Never pinned him for the type of lawyer to take up a criminal law case, let alone homicides.”

“What’s there to fight for in a criminal homicide?” You wondered. “Isn’t that DA’s job?”

You remembered a little from what you had read with Madison that day, over a month ago. Twin homicides followed by a legal battle over property inheritance. The deceased’s brother vs. the deceased son. There were also connected matters of custodial rights, abuse charges and adoption.

“It was really scandalous, Y/N,” Madison said. “You wouldn’t know because you didn’t live in California. It was all over the papers and news in LA. Ralph Simmons was this bigshot producer, and his on and off girlfriend- both of them shot by some drug pimp. A whole big racket came out with it. I think Mr. Winchester moved out of LA to avoid the fanfare that followed him everywhere afterwards.”

“When was this?” 

“Ummm… about two and half years ago,” Madison said. 

So before he started teaching at Stanford, and before his job at Acton Griswold. 

“Why would he leave a successful firm in LA and move base to SF?” You asked out loud. “That too after a successful stint? It doesn’t make sense.”

To your surprise, Madison laughed. “Oh, firms must be dying to have him. Even my dad offered. Apart from offering a junior partnership, Acton Gris must have paid him a ton of money. Besides, his working hours are more like a consultants, so he can manage classes. That’s a lot of relaxations- only someone with that sort of fanfare would have been able to negotiate a deal.”

It wasn’t the money. That much you knew. Something else had made Sam uproot his life in LA and move here. 

“Uhg! I really want to work with him, Y/N,” Madison let out. “I really want the summer internship at Acton Gris.” Seeing your expression, she quickly added, “It’s not why you think. I mean sure he’s super hot and all that, but I’ve looked up to him for his ethics, and the way he thinks. He’s just such a great lawyer.”

“Sure is.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” She said in a defeated voice. “Rich girl with a firm to her name, who could get in Acton Gris by recommendation as a favor. What’s the big deal, right?”

“Maddie, I wasn’t thinking that-”

“It’s alright if you do. Everyone does.”

You placed your hand on top of hers. “I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I care about you. The Madison I know is intelligent and hardworking, who deserves whatever she sets her heart to. Law is a lucrative practice. As long as you aren’t screwing over someone else, you should use whatever means you can.”

Madison’s eyes welled up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder if I even have any real friends who care about me. Becca… Lace, Mer… they all feel like friendships of convenience than actual substance. You’re the only one I’m sure will be happy to see me succeed in life.”

Your heart reached out for Madison. She was a good person who didn’t deserve to feel this way. Slowly you reached out and put your arms around her. “Maddie,” You breathed in her hair, not knowing what else to say. You had always known she was hurting inside without her having told you. Her relations seemed frivolous to you, but by the looks of it, her family life wasn’t much good either. Deep down she was convinced that her parents, her brothers didn’t love her. What must it be like to live that way?

You’d never been rich in your life except for those short married months, but not for a minute had you questioned the love of any person you called family. How was one supposed to live on without having the assurance of being absolutely loved?

The way you’ve lived for the past six and a half years, a small voice whispered in your brain. You quelled it immediately.

“Madison,” you said firmly this time. “I love you. And I’ll always support you. To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

She hugged you closer, and you felt her broken breaths against your body. She didn’t want you to see her cry, so you held on till all her tears had dried.

********

You probably looked exactly how you felt- sleepless and exhausted. The first half of day one had gone smoothly with all introductions in place. Over two hundred and fifty alumni had RSVP’d for the event and forty two had agreed to speak or participate in panel discussions. You had been told this was one of the biggest turnouts ever. Instead of feeling like you had succeeded, you just felt more scared. Organised activity wasn’t your cup of tea. Right about then you were questioning how you even ended up heading this committee.

Everyone seemed to be asking for you, everyone had some or the other work with you and the tasks were never ending. The first time that you got a minute to sit was towards the end of lunch break. You dropped into the seat at the far end of the auditorium, head in your hands.

“Here!”

You turned your face to see Sam sitting next to you with a bottle of water in his hand. Unlike his usual self, he was dressed in a light knit grey sweater and jeans today. His glasses hung from the V-shaped neckline, revealing just enough for you to see the glint of his chain. You were so exhausted, all you wanted to do was fall against his shoulder and close your eyes for just two seconds. Sighing, you took the bottle from him and drank to your heart’s content.

“Maybe doing the late night shift at the library wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

You frowned. “How do you know?”

“The register,” He said. “I went to the library in the morning to return my book.”

“I thought you were avoiding the library like the plague.” The words slipped out before you could think them through. You hoped the bitter edge in them wasn’t very obvious. 

“I would come if I could, you know?”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked, belligerent, “Too scared to go back home in the dark?”

You knew it was unfair to put him in a spot like this. He had a home, his own bed. Why would he spend his nights at the library just because you worked there? Just because he hadn’t talked to you all that much lately, or given you his phone number, didn’t mean you had the right to be irritated at him. 

“Y/N-” he sighed, and before he could add on to that, he was interrupted. 

“There you are!” 

Chase Lincoln put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

You straightened your expression under the pretense of drinking more water, and handed the bottle back to Sam.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, standing up, “I must hurry back now. If you’ll excuse me.”

Sam stood up with you. The errant thought of resting against his shoulder made an appearance but you shoved it away violently. 

“Wait,” Sam put his hand out to block you. You looked around you to see if anyone else had noticed. No one but Chase.

“Let me introduce the two of you,” he said.

“Wait, I know you,” Chase interjected. “You work with Molly, right? And you’re heading the organising committee.” 

“Chase,” Sam said with gravity, making his friend focus, the green eyes sharpened on you.

Exhaling slowly, Sam turned to you. “This is Chase Lincoln. He works with me at Acton Griswold.” You heard the unsaid words- ‘He’s the one I was talking with that day in the coffee shop; my friend.”

“Chase.” Sam’s voice was heavy, the way Atlas’s might have sounded after a millennia of holding up the earth. There was defeat in it. “This- this is Y/N.”

Each time Sam uttered your name, a warmth settled in your chest. You suspected it was just your eternally besotted mind making up the idea that his voice grew softer when he said it. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, for Chase’s eyes narrowed as he took in the look on Sam’s face, then went wide in a split second. His head rapidly moved from you to Sam in a matter of moments, before his jaw dropped.

“S-... Your… “ Speech seemed to have temporarily evaded Chase. 

“No diamonds,” Sam murmured.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted for you from two rows down. “There’s a problem with the mic. You need to check it out.”

“Ex- Excuse me,” you mumbled, hurrying away from Chase’s astounded stare. Maybe he knew it all, that didn’t particularly surprise you. What did surprise you was how Sam had decidedly made the introduction- as if Chase had to know. 

As it turned out, the mic had only been disconnected. It was working absolutely fine. You were still grateful to have been removed from Chase’s presence, glad that you didn’t have to wait around to witness his judgement. 

The rest of the day flew by faster than you could have guessed. Most of the heavy panel discussions were scheduled for the first day itself. You were blown away by the immense knowledge and expertise of those people, which was a good thing because you desperately needed a distraction. 

You only saw Sam afterwards, once everything was over and the alumni were all catching up with each other, like old friends, reminiscing about the time they had spent together. Even though it was a lot of people there, your eyes kept going to Sam in his thin sweater, in a deep conversation with an aged man, who was laughing at something Sam had said.

“One down, two more days to go,” mumbled Madison. She was leaning against your back. “Can we just sleep here?”

“I told you to come home with me last night,” Rebecca stated, appearing out of nowhere. This time she had Lacey and Meredith with her. “Why did you have to stay up at the library?”

Usually Madison would’ve at least tried to answer. Today, her forehead and nose just dug deeper into your back. You pursed your lips so the smile wouldn’t spill over. She was taking a stand for how she deserved to be treated.

“Well, shit!” Lacey said. “Looks like I wasn’t wrong after all.”

Rebecca groaned. “Ugh she looks like an uptight bimbo.”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation till Meredith said, “She’s definitely into professor Hotchester.”

Your head snapped up in Sam’s direction, but he was out of the straight line of your vision. Obscuring him was a girl, dressed in a pretty blue chiffon top and tight fitting pencil skirt. Her five inches long pumps caught the light of the setting sun and gleamed. She was tall and beautiful, statuesque in the way a swimsuit model is, her blonde hair fell to the middle of her back in perfect curls. 

As you watched, she threw her hands around Sam’s neck and hugged him tightly. He willingly embraced her, too. You chanced a glance of the smile on his face as she disentangled and laughed, touching Sam’s chest lightly with her hand. 

“Yeah, there’s something there,” Lacey whistled.

“Wonder who she is,” Madison whispered, so only you could hear.

You didn’t need to wonder who it was, you already knew. Jessica Moore. Sam’s Ex-girlfriend.

*******************

A/N 2: I kinda really like the next chapter. I think it speaks more about about the sort of writer and person that I am than most things I’ve written yet. Can’t wait to share it with y’all.

So any predictions? ;)

Thank you for all the reblogs and comments! Not gonna lie, life’s been kicking my butt a lot lately. Believe it or not, all of your love really helps <3

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[morbidly-malicious-muffins]

Hello! I hope im not bothering you How are you doing? I absolutely adore lester because he's just so cute! May I get some fluff with him and a female S/O who likes to collect animal bones, is a child in heart and generally doesn't mind getting dirty? Thank you so much!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Heyyy! No of course you're not bothering me, kind human! 💓 Here is your request! Im gonna make this an x reader bc 😗😗

And yes I love Lester too 🥺 He's a smol dirty bean who deserves to be cherished and taken good care of 😭

Lester Sinclair x Fem!Reader

(lets all appreciate Lester posing like the supermodel he is.)

(he's so much more photogenic than I'll ever be *heart eyes*)

You guys first met at Lester's roadkill pit.

He saw you waist-deep in the bloody ditch, digging through the swamp of animal carcass, fishing out the dead animals you liked while humming a country tune.

You looked to his direction in alarm when you heard his truck pull up, and then splat into the pit.

Oh yeah did I mention that Lester was so distracted by the sight of a pretty girl in his roadkill pit, he sunk a wheel into the ditch when parking. (boy still can't park for shit smh)

You heard a distant "ah bastard." as he came out of his truck, anxiously walking around his vehicle and assesing the situation.

Tucking the carcasses you collected into your bag of goodies, you called out to him.

"Ya need some help there?"

Long story short, you end up helping him push his truck up the slope, and in repayment, he offers you a ride back to where you live, which you gladly accept.

You marveled at the decor in his truck, asking him about every piece. Lester wasn't used to someone acting so positively toward the interior design of his beloved truck, but he really appreciates it. He answers all your questions, and you end up getting along really well.

You talked about your shared interest of collecting bones and natural exploration, hence your appearance at his roadkill pit, and cracking the dumbest jokes and giggling like little kids over them in the process.

You were like, in love upon first meeting. Its practically a soulmate AU but irl.

Lester asked you out on a date then and there, despite his nerves. When you said yes, he knew you were the one. Just like that.

Bo would poke fun of him for being so invigorated by his "teensy weensy datesy", while Vincent is happy for him.

*cue fond pat on the back from Vinny*

The date was just gonna be a nice walk in the woods and then dinner, but you tripped and slipped in a puddle, and Lester gasps and starts laughing after he sees that you're fine.

You gave Lester's shirt a firm tug, making him face plant into the mud puddle as well.

It then was you turn to laugh your head off, snorting and screeching. Lester thought it was the cutest thing ever.

*Lester dreamily looking at you, as if in a trance, until--*

SPLAT!

You just! Threw mud in his face!

*Sudden bark of laughter from you*

Oh it is so on.

Shortly after, a full-on mud fight broke out between you two.

And boy, he does not go easy. Neither of you did.

That, of course, ended with you both covered in mud head to toe, running back to Lester's hut in a hurry because it started raining heaviliy.

You arrived at Lester's house, a giggling mess drenched in mud, water and sweat, trodding dirt and leaves all over the hut.

General HCs:

You share and trade cool bones you find.

Nerding over different types of animal skull is a must. Argue over which type of badger it is.

"Its obviously a juvenile!"

"No Lester! Its another species, look at that spot next to the cranium--"

Eating cake for breakfast because you both want to.

Cuddling in bed because he's a cuddlebug.

Rough housing. Playfully wrestling, shoving, tripping.

Being smelly together and being given a disapproving eye by Mister Vincent-Germophobe-Sinclair.

Smelling each other and telling the other to shower, faking a gag. (Hypocrites smh)

Collecting roadkill together and fishing for cool bones in the process.

"LESTER LESTER OHMYGOD YOU HAVE TO COME HERE NOW AND SEE THIS!"

*Amazed and excited squawking from both of you*

"HOLY-- ITS A COYOTE! LOOK AT THE VERTIBRAE MAKE SURE--"

"LOOK AT THEM HUGE CANINES THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER--"

"AHAHAAAA HAHAHAH"

You probably end up getting married without the actual documents. Its fineeee it counts.

Here it is! Sorry it took soooo long. I've been real busy lately :/

I had a lot of fun writing this, this idea is so adorable😭 thanks for the request ❤️

Y'all know how it goes, have a great week for me will ya? ;)

---Zali 🖤

[willow-salix]

Isolation update! Big thanks to @hodgehegposts for the prompt and fun chats.

Day 67 of Isolation on Tracy Island and today I learnt that the Tracy’s and I have totally different ideas of how to protect ourselves.

Some of us were watching a movie and some of us, namely Kayo, were attacking everyone stupid enough to go near enough. 

“Arghhh,” Gordon screamed as he flew backwards and landed on his butt with a bone rattling bump.

“Who’s next?” she asked, beckoning us forward.

Alan rubbed his butt in remembered pain and shook his head.

Kayo looked at Scott.

“Nope, I’m secure enough in my masculinity to know that it's not a good idea to go up against you.”

“John?” 

“Erm, let me think...no.”

Virgil was on the upper level, headphones on, totally in the zone while he painted and we all knew that nothing would get him to move bar an emergency call and that wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

She looked at me.

“Nope, don’t even think about it. I don’t know anything about your fancy moves, I’m no karate kid.”

“You don't know any self defence at all?” Scott asked.

I shrugged. “Well, I know enough to protect myself in a packed bar, does that count?”

Apparently it didn't, because less than ten minutes later I had been wrestled into my workout gear and was standing on the mats in the gym.

“I don't have a good feeling about this,” John muttered to Scott.

“Nonsense, she needs to learn, it’s important she can defend herself if the need arises. Do you want her getting hurt because she doesn't know how to take down an assailant?”

“Of course not, but it’s her.”

“True.”

“I can hear you both, you know!”

“Busted,” Scott whispered to John, who sighed, knowing he was very likely to get yelled at for that later. And he would be right.

“Don’t listen to them, don’t let them put you off, you can do this,” Kayo encouraged me. “You can’t be that bad, you must know something. You said you could defend yourself in a packed bar, so lets start there, show me your moves.”

“I don’t really have a set of moves, I kinda just make it up on the fly,” I admitted, ignoring Scott's snort of amusement and John’s groan of disbelief.

“We can work with that, on the fly is what we do best. Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Attack her, grab her from behind.”

“I dont think so.”

“John, you do it then.”

“I value certain parts of my anatomy.”

“Gordon?”

“Sure, I’ll do it, what's the worst that could happen?”

John actually laughed at that, he knew never to annoy me.

“No, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I said, backing away.

“You couldnt hurt me, don’t worry. I’m just gonna grab you and all you have to do is break my hold.”

“You sure?” I asked. “I fight dirty.”

“So do bad guys,” Kayo laughed.

“I can take it,” Gordon assured me.

“OK,” I shrugged and turned around for him to grab me.

“Just do what you would do in a crowded bar and someone grabbed you,” Scott instructed.

I nodded.

Gordon waited a few seconds and then grabbed me, one arm around my chest, another around my waist.

I didn't bother struggling, I leant closer.

“Hey, Sailor, oh, you’re strong. Are you single? Because I’ve got four kids at home that desperately need a daddy. You don’t have a fear of commitment do you? Because I feel like we could have something really special, you know? Do you feel it too? This special thing between us? Wanna get marrie-”

“I’m out!” Gordon dropped me like I was a hot potato.

I turned around, waiting for my praise.

Scott cracked up laughing, almost falling over, only his grip on John’s shoulder keeping him upright? 

“That’s what you do in a bar?” John asked in utter disbelief. “You’re never going out alone again.”

“What if your attacker isn't some creep in a bar, what if he’s following you home and jumps you in an alleyway?” Alan asked.

“Why would I be in an alleyway?”

“He could grab you and drag you in,” Scott answered, finally gaining control of himself and managing to stand on his own.

“Who’d want me?” I argued. “I’d open my mouth and he’d run away in fear.”

“Truth,” Gordon muttered.

“Grab her again,” Kayo ordered.

“Do I have to?”

“I’ll do it,” Scott sighed, stepping up to the bat.

“So no words, just fight? Anything goes?”

“Yep, fight like your life depends on it,” Kayo instructed.

“Sorry,” I told Scott in preparation for kicking his butt.

“Don’t be,” he scoffed. “Do your worst.”

I started walking.

“Oh, look at me, an innocent-” 

John snorted. I ignored him.

“-unarmed girl, all alone on this dark, dark street. It would be so terrible if someone was to grab me right about now...”

Scott struck, looping his arm around my neck and another around my waist. 

I went limp and he fumbled to catch me, seizing the opportunity I lifted my foot and stamped down on his toes.

“Oww, dammit!” 

Not giving a second I slammed my elbow into his stomach and jumped, smacking the top of my head into his chin. When he let go to grab his chin I spun round and went for his chest, grabbing and twisting.

“She went for the nipple cripple!” Alan screamed in delight as Scott screamed in pain.

I let go and dragged him into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you told me to fight!”

Scott accepted the hug, still whimpering pathetically.

“I said I was sorry, you know I love you!” I stroked his head getting a handful of gel which I sneakily wiped on his shirt when I patted his back.

“At least she kept it above waist height,” John commented.

“Well, that was…” Kayo started.

I waited. 

“Unorthodox and creative, but a woman wouldn't fight like that. Care to take me on?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. Nothing like taking down the big bro to give you a little confidence..

“Show me how you’d take on a female attacker.”

“Give me a second!” I stuck my hand in John’s pocket and retrieved the hairband I kept there for emergencies and tied my hair back.

“OK, I’m ready. Come at me!”

Kayo launched at me and I was immediately on the defensive. I head back, hands up, nails like claws.

“What are you doing?” Gordon asked.

“Cat fight, baby!”

“Cat fight?” Alan whispered to John who shrugged.

“Your hair looks awful today and those pants make your butt look huge!” I yelled at her.

“What?” she paused before aiming a punch my way but I screamed in her face and ducked, making her jump.

“Those boots give you cankles!” I kicked her in the shin and she yelped, hopping on one foot for a second, rubbing her leg.

I scrambled to my feet and grabbed her by the ponytail, yanking hard.

“Get off!” she yelled trying to spin out of my grip.

I let go and literally kicked her butt. I never go for the back, go for the butt, they never expect it. The sole of my foot hit her square on the cheeks and she stumbled in shock. That was my cue. I leapt on her back, screaming my best Xena impression, throwing all my weight on her, riding her down to the floor. I wound her hair around my fist and leaning all my weight on her shoulders, I pinned her down.

“That is not how bad guys fight!” she yelled, squirming.

“No, it's how London girls fight. I take it you’ve never been in a drunken cat fight with someone who thinks you stole her lipstick? You’re just lucky I didn't unleash my claws and go for the eyes, or smash your face into the floor.”

I got up off her back and helped her up.

“That was dirty,” she scowled at me. “I do not have cankles.”

“I did warn you all.”

“What are cankles?” John asked Alan, who shrugged.

“You don’t have a big butt either,” I promised her. “I was just trash talking.”

“Can you girls do that again?” Gordon asked, grinning at us. “Maybe have a pillow fight too?”

Kayo and I didnt dignify that with an answer.

“I think it’s time we teach you some basics,” John insisted.

“You still don’t believe I can take care of myself?” I huffed, folding my arms.

“Oh we know you can, but just in case you aren't attacking drunk people-”

“Hey! They always attack me first!”

“You still need to learn some real self defense,” Scott finished for him.

“Real self defence? How are your moobs, my man?”

“Oww, you’re mean when you fight,” Gordon accused.

“I...I do not have moobs!” he turned away, anxiously smoothing his hand over his pecs, just to be sure.

“Yeah, OK supermodel, you’re out of here,” Kayo ordered. “You guys too. We’re gonna start running through some basics. So, unless you want to be the attacker again, I suggest you get going.”

They got gone.

It was easier without them there and Kayo is actually a really good teacher. One day I might even be able to fight off a bad guy without resorting to a crotch shot. A girl can dream.

[exobyharu]

PCY - One Shot

Image source to follow. I just Googled it like this

“You just freaking downgraded me!”

Summary: PCY knows that he’s being a five -year-old for treating you like a guy. But what’s a man to do when the girl he likes is taken? Here’s a friendly little back and forth with PCY a few days after you break up with your boyfriend.

⏰10:01 AM

🌏A deserted mall parking lot, but only because it’s not open yet

🌞The kind of sunny that makes PCY squint.

👥YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun (mentioned), YBN (your ex-boyfriend) (mentioned)

Notes: It’s been forever! But I’m still alive! There’s a little mention of implied violence, but it’s all just cute, really. Sorry I take too long! 

Words: ~2,100

💙💙💙

“Or you can quit telling me how to live my life, Chanyeol,” you complain, putting your phone down because you finally spot Chanyeol getting down their company car in his glorious failure of a disguise – a white cap and facemask, worn under a hoodie with the word BALENCIAGA spelled in angry bold letters across his broad back. For an idol who has spent years in the limelight, you would think that the guy had grown wiser in his choice of outfits for public places like, this instance, a mall parking lot. Even that middle-aged woman raking leaves across the entrance gives him a second look.

Who wouldn’t?

Because there is no need to walk like that – with a slight upward tilt in his head, one hand pressing a phone to his ear and the other on his hip, strutting confidently with smooth, long strides. You make a mental note to remind him that the pavement is no catwalk. It’s almost mesmerising, watching a real-life supermodel approach you, looking fresh even when his eyes are squinting hard against the mid-morning sun.

About three meters away, his voice is distinctly Chanyeol, but just a bit huskier than usual as if he is dying to put on a show. Too bad there seems to be no one else watching but you.

“It’s real! You’re here!“ he calls out anyway, extending a clenched fist – a move that you recognise is reserved for his male friends. You stare at the fist bump that never happened, knowing well what he would say if you take his bait. Something along the lines of: For a man, your hands are small, or How’s my brother in a woman’s body? or That’s my little YN-niee! which is always followed by Yah! I really wish you were born a guy!

So you stare at his hand, not sharing the level of his excitement. Shit just happened. You have too little energy to deal with Chanyeol’s fantasies of you as his younger brother. When he notices your lack of enthusiasm, his outstretched hand goes for your head and attempts to mess your hair up instead. “You must be desperate to waste money. The mall does not open in an hour.”

Just desperate to get out of my head, really.

On a regular day, you would hate even the wind for ruining your hair. But this time, his hands are surprisingly gentle. You make an effort to ignore how it feels and snap back at him, anyway. “It’s called Retail Therapy. You just don’t understand the joy of buying yourself new clothes because you never have to.”

He proudly concurs with a smug raise of his brows. “That’s true. I never have to.” It’s that attitude of his that always earns him a slap to his arm. But his fingers are playfully combing through your hair now, and you do not exactly hate the feeling. So you just let him, hoping nobody with a camera on his person ever sees this happening.

“Meanwhile, may I comment that the whole look you went for this morning is aptly low profile,” you tell him for the sake of saying something.

But what you say makes him tug at his training pants reflexively. “These?”

When he removes his cap, pulls down his mask, and appraises his outfit, you realise that he had just overlooked your sarcasm.

“Uh-huh. It totally pleads Don’t Stalk Me, Dispatch. I'm Not Park Chanyeol, I Promise.”

He chuckles. “It’s protection,” he reasons, completely getting rid of the cap and mask.

“Protection? From what? The sun?”

This time, it is you, genuinely not picking up on the joke – or pun – either way, you know that he spends quite a lot of time with his good friend Baekhyun who gives equally horrible punch lines. You have met the guy a few times and you are sure that the baffled look you had on your face is the exact same one you’re giving Chanyeol at the moment.

He seems to enjoy it. It takes him a few seconds to explain. “It’s protection from you.”

From me?

“Excuse you, but I’m the one who needs protecting!” You argue and it makes him grin from ear to ear. You realise that you had just given him the reaction he was hoping to get.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, “Based on last night’s phone call, you’re upset over your boyfriend. And do you know what you do when you’re upset, in general?”

“What?” Frankly, you know that you do a lot of things.

“You flail your arms around and hit people!” Chanyeol exclaims, and then he stretches his arms out and flaps them, trying to imitate how you’re supposed to look. It’s ridiculous how he is making it appear worse than it actually is. “You and your little man paws! Hitting innocent people all because your boyfriend made you cry again! It’s about time–””

“Yah! For the final time, Chanyeol, I am not a man! Also, must I tell you, he’s not my boyfriend anymore!”

“Shut it! You are one of us so that makes you a – wait, you… He… What?” There’s a bit of a delay, but in a snap, his energy drops, his eyes grow wide and your first point is now obviously abandoned.

“It’s what I said,” you clarify reluctantly. “And, my main point right now, please stop treating me like a guy, already!”

Chanyeol’s not hearing any of what you just said. His eyes remain on yours, searching for any hint of a lie.

He does not find one. “You’re saying… That YBN is not?? …Anymore?”

Again, the same reaction. It’s the same words, the same tone, the same look of caution and concern – it’s always the same questions every time you tell somebody new. All the repetitive explaining is starting to become more painful than the breakup itself. You hate it more than you can express. It makes you lose it for a moment and yell at your friend with careless regard for your surroundings. “You understood the first time! Why does everyone want me to spell it out?!”

That is when you realise that he is right. Your hands have a mind of their own.

“Yah! Yah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chanyeol whines, using his forearm to fend off a jab that you were about to give him. Just as he had predicted. “Watch out because people around here will know who you’re hitting. Do that a few more times and you’ll be exposed. My fans won’t like it!”

You roll your eyes at his sudden mood shift after confirming your breakup. There’s no way you’re missing Chanyeol’s smile that is starting to inch in. He never really liked YBN. Now that you’ve broken up with the guy, you can already hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice when he delivers his much anticipated I told you so because this time, he’s right. You grumble, exceptionally annoyed, because of how right he is.

“Anywaaaay, back to why I need protecting…  You’re right. He nearly hit me.”

And you wonder why Chanyeol’s pretty slow on the uptake this morning. He takes two seconds.

“What!?” Finally, his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He takes another second to shake his head from disbelief and then asks again. “He what?!”

This morning, Chanyeol’s a freaking cartoon. His aggravated expression seems out of place, given how much he has been confronting you about your now-ex-boyfriend’s alleged tendency towards violence. He saw it coming. Why is he so surprised? Your eyes roll.

“Relaaaaax. I’m more capable than I look. I started training for–”

“Stop that!” he interrupts, dismissing all humour from the situation. “He hit you?!” And he’s angry, possibly even more furious than your father had been. You certainly don’t remember doing anything that warranted any scolding. But here he is, getting all worked up while you stand your ground with hands in your pockets because you are starting to pick on your nails. Despite your nerves, you try to remain as calm as you could, and you are determined to make him realise that you’re not the enemy here.

“You’re not listening to me, Chanyeol! I said he nearly, and by nearly, I mean he missed. He punched the wall behind my face instead.”

You say it with a convincing smile, but Chanyeol still does not respond. He inhales sharply and looks up the sky, pulling his hair – what he does whenever he could not get his point across.

“But I’m kinda proud of myself, so thanks for asking twice,” you continue, still grinning at him and trying to keep it cool. You’re not about to just watch him blow up. Not now and certainly not here. An angry Chanyeol is not a fun Chanyeol. So you let the silence ensue as you watch him, whose eyes are still closed and is obviously putting in the effort, himself.  

He fails.

“Fucking hell. Who hits a woman!?” All of a sudden, he starts to furiously rub his face against his palms until his nose turns pink. “Does he know who he’s messing with? Have you seen how small he stands beside me? I could crush him with–”

“Park Chanyeol!” You yell at him this time, because it is the only way to snap him out of it. “He messed with me. Not you. And I’ll remind you that you’re my dad’s student, not my bodyguard!”

“But I am also your friend!”

That had done it. He yells even louder, causing a dog to bark in the distance. It brings him back to the present, as you notice him consciously steal a side glance at the parking entrance, making sure nobody has come to watch the show.

When he sees that nobody’s there, he grumbles something incoherent. I’m a special friend, it sounded very much like. But he shakes his head again and promptly rephrases that. “Look, I am your good friend, first of all! I can’t believe you just freaking downgraded me!”

That you did. But that’s only because you think he’s getting too involved in this. You’ve let it go.

Why couldn’t he?

“You see, this is why I didn’t get to join your family’s dinner last Friday. Also, this is why I didn’t tell you over the phone! Look at you!”

He does. He realises that his hands are now impulsively clenched into fists at his sides, and his feet, apart, and planted to the ground as if he is preparing for a fight. With you.

“Calm down a little? I had enough testosterone when I told my dad about it last night,” you explain. You’re not about to let yourself get another round of scolding. This morning is all about recovery. “I promise I’m okay and I’ll feel even better when I get to shop for things I like!”

Your false eagerness seems to exasperate him even more. “Again, that’s a waste of money. You’ll surely buy clothes you won’t wear again!”

“How am I supposed to… Give me alternatives then!” you demand. He’s got way too much opinions any way.

But Chanyeol accepts his chance and then he goes, “Hm,” full of scrutiny, as if he has something better in mind. It turns out that he actually does. And by better, he means better by his standards. “How about I teach you how to throw a proper punch?”

“You mean, boxing?”

He nods.

And you think hell no. You eye him suspiciously, peering at him from under his cap that he had just placed on your head. “If this about making me a man, I swear to–”

“Come on, just come on! I’ll make it fun!” His mood seems to shift for good this time. “We can tape his face on the punching bag and you can pretend to be hitting him!”

“Nice try, but that only hurts my hands. It’ll make no difference,” you tell him, even though a part of you considers the idea an entertaining way to get over yourself already.

“It will, I promise. I’ll fund your next shopping spree if I don’t convince you.”

The suggestion gets you thinking even more. It’s not a bad deal, is it? You bite the bullet and Chanyeol sees that he’s got the upper hand. You both smile. “Any more benefits?” you ask. And his response comes as a reflex. “That, and I’ll make sure your punches reach him through me.”

“Park Chanyeol!”

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding!” Chanyeol promises, playfully holding his fists out in front of you. You don’t quite miss that devious smirk. “Or am I?”

💙💙💙

- end - 

[breakingthedisneyspell]

So, anything on the coding within the general aesthetic of cartoon design? The article on Aladdin mentioned how him and Jasmine had more eurocentric features but I'm sure there are far more examples with the Disney style.

Thank you for sending this in!

I am slightly confused about what you are asking. Is it about racial coding in Disney (which is too wide a topic)? About specific characters like Jasmine? About specific character types like heroines & villains? So do not hesitate to get back to me.

I stuck with the characters I was most familiar with.

In general, the heroes & heroines of color are more conventionally attractive with Eurocentric features whereas the rest of their communities, including the villain, are racialised through their appearance (darker skin tones, exaggerated features, facial hair etc) and accents. 

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“It is painfully obvious that the protagonists – Jasmine, Aladdin, and the Genie – are not. Their features are decidedly white/ European. The others have large noses, sinister eyes, and violence on the mind. Aladdin and Jasmine have none of these. They are dark-haired Ken and Barbie”

Staninger, Christiane. “Chapter 5: Disney’s Magic Carpet Ride: Aladdin and Women in Islam.” The emperor’s old groove: decolonizing Disney’s MagicKingdom. Ed. Brenda Ayres. New York: Peter Lang Pub Incorporated, 2003. pp. 65-77.

Aladdin modeled after Tom Cruise and M.C Hammer: By sexualizing the Aladdin character and transferring the despicable qualities of the magician to the villain Jafar, the stage was set for a plot which offered something for everyone: a sexy hero with a love interest and a Machiavellian miscreant who combined the worst straits of two real-life Arabs: the Ayatollah Khomeini and Saddam Hussein 

Although Disney went so far as to tinge the skin tones of Aladdin and Jasmine with a lighter ocher, it deepened the shade of Jafar’s skin. Likewise, it distinguished between the “good” characters and the “bad” by giving the former American accents and the latter clipped British or vaguely foreign intonations.

All the bad guys have beards and large, bulbous noses, sinister eyes and heavy accents, and they’re wielding swords constantly. Aladdin doesn’t have a big nose; he has a small nose. He doesn’t have a beard or a turban. He doesn’t have an accent. What makes him nice is they’ve given him this American character. They’ve done everything but put him into a suit and a tie (Washington post, 10/01/93, Yousef Salem) 

Jafar, like Hussein, is mustachioed, dark skinned, turbaned and robed silhouette from the Khomeini and “the fictional villain is a devious plotter and untrustworthy ally who pretends loyalty to his benevolent master while scheming to seize his possessions. It was this personification of Hussein-the-betrayer that was beamed from satellite dishes around the world in 1990-91 

Macleod, Dianne Sachko. “Chapter 13: The Politics of Vision: Disney, Aladdin, and the Gulf War.” The emperor’s old groove: decolonizing Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Ed. Brenda Ayres. New York: Peter Lang Pub Incorporated, 2003. pp.179-192. 

The Arab woman is often represented as light-skinned and in various states of undress while men are dark-skinned and viciously violent in works such as The Death of Sardanapalus by Delacroix and The Turkish Bath by Ingres. 

Jafar is coded as “Arabic” with darker skin, a crooked nose and slimy mannerisms while Jasmine is more Americanized while still clearly remaining Agrabian (Booker 55). She has an American accent and yearns for true love and freedom from an oppressive regime while being disconnected from her faith: she is made palatable and relatable to Western audiences (Nadel 191). Jasmine belongs to and is disengaged from a land overrun by polygamy, harem girls and belly dancers.

Yours truly, The sexualization of women of color in WaltDisney’s Aladdin, Pocahontas and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

Another example is Pocahontas, who stands out from her community with her looks and sexualisation.

film’s supervising animator Glen Keane was told “to make [Pocahontas] the finest creature the human race has to offer” (Kim 24). 

All her features, including her arresting physique, are derived from Keane “concoct[ing] a heroine that John Smith, or any man, animated or otherwise, might love” (“The Making of Pocahontas”). Her body is an amalgamation of features cherry-picked from different ethnic groups to form the ultimate human being. Keane drew inspiration from “Irene Bedard, the American Indian actor who provides Pocahontas’s voice, American Indian consultant to the film Shirley “Little Dove” Custalow McGowan, Filipino model Dyna Taylor, black supermodel Naomi Campbell, and white supermodels Kate Moss and Christy Turlington” (Edgerton & Jackson 95). 

WDC’s Pocahontas was thus given high cheekbones, full lips, feline eyes, a sensuous gait and an erotic body. Her body did not go unnoticed: she was described as a “babe” ” by John Smith’s voice actor Mel Gibson (Sardar17), “lusciously sexual” (Rudnick 67) and an “animated Playboy playmate”(Sharkey 1). Pocahontas needed to be otherworldly to logically captivate the audience and John Smith. Her extreme beautification arguably counterbalances her ethnicity (Buscombe 35). The latter seems to be considered a visual drawback that has to be compensated with increased sex appeal.

Me, The sexualization of women of color in Walt Disney’s Aladdin, Pocahontas and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

Pocahontas is “an anachronistic image composed of “aesthetically-pleasing” body parts drawn from American Indian, African American, Asian American, and Caucasian models”

Jeffrey Katzenberg charged Keane with creating a Pocahontas that would be “the finest creature the human race has to offer” (qtd. in Kim 23)”. Disney’s Pocahontas is not American Indian; she is a member of the more universal “human race.”Her long, angular facial structure, pert nose, almond-shaped eyes, and flowing waist-length hair – which constantly billows around her and is parted on one side with an artful supermodel flip – differentiate her from the other American Indian women in the film, who are pictured with larger eyes and noses, more rounded faces, their hair either in bangs or long and parted in the middle.

Indeed, in making what has been trumpeted as their first multiethnic heroine, Disney, as I will argue in the final section of this essay, collapses all non-white ethnicities onto her body in order to make her a spokesmodel for a reductive version of multiculturalism, one in which the visual marker of brownness stands in for cultural diversity.

Strikingly, in addition to screening footage of supermodels, Keane went to books on classical Western beauty so that he could “concoct a heroine that John Smith, or any man, animated or otherwise, might love” (qtd. in Making). This comment suggests, from the point of view of the Anglicized male gaze, that Pocahontas’s beauty must overcome her race – her status as a “savage,” as a racial Other.

Pocahontas’s first scene of its heroine is a highly eroticized one. As shematerializes through the mist of the waterfall, the film’s action halts as the camera gazes, simulating what Mary Louise Pratt has theorized as the imperialor pale male gaze. With her long black hair swirling behind her, her Indianprincess costume cut high in the thigh, hanging from one shoulder, and hervoluptuous figure, Pocahontas stands as a icon of Western standards ofexoticized female beauty. As Gertrude Custalow, a member of the Powhatan tribe, noted in a 1995 interview about the film, “The real Pocahontas was achild, not a voluptuous woman. And one thing’s for sure – she didn’t own anuplift bra” (qtd. in Tillotson C8). Her body signifies as a racialized sexualobject on the screen, a “brown-skinned Barbie doll,” a multiethnic, to use Mel Gibson’s term, “babe” (qtd. in Tillotson C8).

Edwards, Leigh H.“The United Colors of ‘Pocahontas’: Synthetic Miscegenation and Disney’sMulticulturalism.” Narrative, vol. 7, no. 2, 1999, pp. 147–168. JSTOR.

The film eroticizes and fetishizes Pocahontas. She is an exotic creature capable of jumping off three hundred foot waterfalls, of conjuring up magical winds thatgive humans the ability to fly, and of painting “will all the colors of the wind.” Disney constructs Pocahontas as a mystical, mist-shrouded object of desire for the heterosexual white colonizer Smith. The film endows her female body with the largest chest, the smallest feet and waist, the biggest almond-shaped eyes, and the longest hair of any character in the movie. Colonial narrative logic dictates that colonizers must protect women from barbaric men; thus, the discourse objectifies women in the name of genocide.

Buescher, Derek T., and Kent A. Ono. “Civilized colonialism: Pocahontas as neocolonial rhetoric.” Women’s Studies in Communication, vol.19, no. 2, 1996, pp.  127-153. 

Esmeralda, where she is dark-skinned but again is exponentially more attractive than her community. 

The Disney film shows a sexually appealing Esmeralda as well, despite its family-friendly target audience. Others have noted the increased sexualization and exoticization of Disney heroines, particularly of ethnic female characters, and culmination with Esmeralda. Her dress in the Disney cartoon has been called “the epitome of the exotic/sexual” and suggestive of her ethnicity. Her flirty dancing concludes with spinning around a pole, a daring move for Disney and a most explicit sexual reprtation. The heroine is also a clear object of the male gaze (Frollo’s, Phoebus’, Quasimodo’s) as suggested by intentional shots and acting techniques.

Schneeweis, Adina. “The bohemian Gypsy, another body to sell: Deciphering Esmeralda in popular culture.” Heroines of Comic Books and Literature: Portrayals in popular culture. Eds. Maja Bajac-Carter, Norma Jones & Bob Batchelor. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2014.

The costuming in The Hunchback of Notre Dame offers what may be the epitome of the exotic/sexual. Esmeralda, the gypsy dancer, is also attired in dresses that reflect a stereotype of her ethnic background. These costumes, like those of her two predecessors, bare her shoulders. Hers, however, also offers a plunging bust line that emphasizes the cleavage. Additionally, her dance costume is drawn with a skin-tight look that reveals the “cut” of her abdomen and her tiny waist.

Lacroix, Celeste. “Images of animated others: The orientalization of Disney’s cartoon heroines from The Little Mermaid to The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Popular Communication 2.4 (2004). pp. 213-229.

WDC’s Esmeralda is modeled after the romantic Bohemian. She is the only Romani inhabited by beauty, grace and sex appeal as the rest of her community are caricatured as “lazy, belligerent, vulgar, unwashed, and criminal” (Oprea 15). All the other Romani characters, including women, are unattractive with beaky noses, beady eyes, and unkempt bodies.

Me, The sexualization of women of color in Walt Disney’s Aladdin, Pocahontas and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

[tinylilemrys]

Rating: T

Word count: 3,407

Summary: Richie Tozier was an open book – some would call it the best thing about him, others would argue that it was the most annoying thing about him.

There were only two secrets that Richie fiercely guarded. One: he had been desperately and completely inconveniently in love with his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak, for years now, and two: Richie liked – no, loved – playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Richie Tozier was an open book – some would call it the best thing about him, others would argue that it was the most annoying thing about him. While it was true that you were never unsure of where you stood with Richie, there was also almost nothing others would classify as too much information that Richie wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing. They knew when he was angry, they knew when he was scared shitless about his Calc test, they knew when he’d eaten food that was more than a bit past its sell-by date as a dare and all about the day of spectacular gastrotechnics that followed, they knew (in great detail) when he’d found a new supermodel that he considered attractive, they knew when he had fought with his parents, and they knew when he was feeling particularly sentimental about his group of friends.

There were only two secrets that Richie fiercely guarded. One: he had been desperately and completely inconveniently in love with his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak, for years now, and two: Richie liked – no, loved – playing Dungeons and Dragons.

He hadn’t meant to enjoy it as much as he did. He’d only agreed to sit on a few sessions because one of the girls from his Drama class told him it was really good way to improve his storytelling and improv skills, but after one session of being sucked up into the world that Will Jones, the Dungeon Master, had spun and being frustrated at not being able to influence the decisions the party made, Richie was hooked. He had spent all of that night creating his character and eagerly (though stealthily) handed his character’s backstory to Will at school the next day.

And that had been that. His little Gnome Cleric had been a vital part of the party for the past six months and Richie couldn’t remember what life was before he started playing.

Of course, finding excuses to duck out of plans with six other friends had proven more difficult than he initially thought it would. Though the party only met to play every second Friday, it was often when the rest of the group had made plans for a movie night or a night swim at the quarry and finding excuses to not be there was tricky. Though the excuse he’d finally settled on was guitar lessons, he could almost feel how annoyed the rest of them were each time he flaked out and though he felt bad about it, D&D had become too important to give up.

The only one who seemed to understand was Eddie, who had started tutoring to make a bit of extra cash on the same Fridays that Richie had D&D and as such was also subject to the ire of the group.

Eddie, however, had a far shorter fuse for these things than Richie did.

“Could you all just give Richie a fucking break?” he snapped one Thursday when Bill had complained about them never hanging out together anymore. “We’re in our junior year. Shit’s getting busy. You can’t accuse us of being shitty friends just because we’ve got other things going on. He’s trying his best and so am I, so back the fuck off.”

Richie had wanted to kiss him – even more so when he’d given him a shy glance afterwards to make sure he hadn’t overstepped.

Though honestly, there weren’t many times when Richie didn’t want to kiss him.

The Loser’s Club had backed off a bit after that, and it had become a routine for them to schedule their movie nights on the weeks where Richie and Eddie could make it. It had also become a routine for Eddie to come over to Richie’s place the day after the Fridays where they couldn’t hang out.

This Saturday was no different, apart from the fact that Eddie wasn’t quite himself. He’d sensed that something was wrong as soon as he opened the door, but when Eddie didn’t even fight him over which movie to watch, Richie knew for sure there was something up.

“Hey, are you okay, Eds?” asked Richie, setting down the VHS tape he was about to put on. “You seem a little down.”

“I’m fine,” said Eddie, but he chewed his bottom lip the way he always did when he was lying.

“No you’re not,” Richie replied, crossing the living room to sit next to him on the sofa. “It’s not your mom again is it?”

“No, not this time,” he replied, his face screwing up when he realised that he’d just admitted he wasn’t fine. “It’s really stupid.”

“If it’s making you this upset, it’s not stupid to me.”

Eddie looked up at him then and Richie’s heart jumped to his throat. He knew he was being reckless, that being this soft with Eddie would lead to him working it out, but he couldn’t imagine being snarky when Eddie looked so sad.

Eddie heaved a deep sigh.

“Okay, well, it’s my, uh, my babysitting.”

“You mean your tutoring?”

“Yeah, what did I say?” asked Eddie, eyes wide and cheeks flooding with colour.

“You said ‘babysitting’.”

“Fuck. Well, I meant tutoring.” He was looking down at his hands now, red-faced. “It, uh, it didn’t work out. I got let go.”

“Ah man, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Richie, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Do you maybe want to ditch the movie and go for ice-cream instead? You seem like you need sugar. My treat, since you’re broke now that you’ve lost your job.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Eddie replies, and though he rolls his eyes, he’s grinning. “You know me, I’d never say no to ice-cream.”

“Thought so,” laughed Richie.

Half an hour later, they were sitting on a patch of grass near the river, quietly eating their desserts. What he appreciated about hanging out with Eddie was that the silences between them were never awkward. He didn’t feel the need to fill the air with the sound of his voice, because it was always so comfortable between them. When Richie was with Eddie, he could just be.

“Thanks for this, Rich,” said Eddie, finishing up the last of his cone. “I needed it.”

“Anytime,” said Richie, lying back in the grass to look up at the sky now that he had finished his own. “Don’t stress about it though, alright? We can find you another kid to tutor.”

Eddie sighed and lay down next to Richie, propping himself up on his elbow to look at him.

“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t… I wasn’t actually tutoring anyone.”

Richie frowned and propped himself up on his elbows too.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I lied about the tutoring because I didn’t want you or the rest of the Losers to know what I was really doing.”

“Okay, so what were you doing?” asked Richie. “Since you telling me the truth now obviously means that you want to let me in on the big secret.”

“You swear you won’t laugh?”

“Oh, my dear Spaghetti, I can promise you a great many things, but that is not one of them.” The crease in Eddie’s brow deepened. “But I can promise you that, depending on how serious this is, I will at least try not to laugh.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I suppose that’s as good as I’m going to get from you. Fine. The truth is that instead of tutoring every second Friday like I told you, ivebeeninadungeonsanddragonsgroupwithsomeoftheavguysforthepastfewmonths.”

“Jesus Christ, Kaspbrak, slow your roll,” said Richie, turning to his side to face Eddie better. “Tell me again, but slowly.”

“I’ve been in a Dungeons and Dragons group with some of the AV guys for the past few months,” Eddie repeated, his face the reddest Richie had ever seen it. Richie had been fully prepared to laugh or at least suppress a laugh, but none came. He was too astounded to hear that Eddie played D&D to do anything except stare at him. “At least I was until Steve, you know the president of the AV club? He said that because Grant and Matt can’t sort out their shit, he’s dissolving our party. That’s why I was upset earlier. And, yeah, I get that probably makes me more of a fucking loser than the rest of the other Losers, but I was really enjoying it. I wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I do, but it’s been really fun. See I play this Bard who’s less of a musician and more of a stand-up comedian and I’m starting to get really good at getting into character. He’s so different to me and it was just nice to be able to stop being Eddie Kaspbrak for a few hours to be someone else, you know. And I just –“

Richie places a hand on Eddie’s arm and his words, which had been flying at a mile a minute a moment ago, suddenly falter.

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” he said, knowing he should probably take his hand back now that Eddie had calmed, but somehow not being able to work up the will to. “If you enjoy it, fuck the rest of them, right?”

And it was at that point that he totally meant to tell Eddie that he was doing the same thing with his Fridays – that the two of them had been keeping the same damn secret for half a year – but it was also at that point that he felt Eddie’s lips crash into his.

Richie’s brain shut down. Eddie, Eddie who he’d been in love with for years, was kissing him. Eddie was kissing him. But no sooner had his brain began whirring back to life than Eddie was pulling back with a look of horror.

“Oh my god, Richie, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m so fucking sorry I–“

“Hey, Eddie,” said Richie, smiling as he slid his hand from Eddie’s shoulder to his burning cheek. “Don’t be.”

And all thoughts of dungeons or dragons or the president of the AV club left his mind as he kissed Eddie, enjoying the taste of vanilla ice-cream on the lips he’d been dreaming about for so long, enjoying the way that Eddie’s fingers began tangling through his hair, enjoying his soft laugh as they pulled apart again, and especially enjoying the euphoria rising in him at the realisation that this meant that Eddie felt the same way. He was looking at Richie shyly through his long lashes the way he often did, but now he finally knew what that look meant.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, brushing back a tendril of soft dark hair that had flopped across Eddie’s forehead, “though I totally get the appeal of wanting to be someone else for a few hours, I happen to like Eddie Kaspbrak. Like, a lot.”

“He likes you too,” Eddie replied. “Like, a lot.”

There was no way he was changing trajectory now to tell Eddie his other secret. Not when Eddie was scooting closer to wrap his arms around him, not when the two of them were lying together watching the blue sky turn from orange to pink and eventually deep blue, both the happiest they had been in years.

He later realised of course – long after Eddie finally announced that he should head home, long after the hour it had taken them to finally move after this announcement, long after trying to bring it up during the car ride home, though being unable to find the moment to – that there was no longer a good time to tell Eddie that he also played D&D, not without an unnecessarily awkward conversation.

He had missed his window and now he hoped and prayed that another would miraculously show up.

–

The next two weeks were the best of Richie’s life so far. Though he and Eddie had both agreed to keep it quiet for the time being, there were so many stolen glances, and brushes of skin and kisses that the secret felt less like a burden and more like a covert and daring mission. So far it seemed that the Losers suspected nothing, to the point that they had even gotten away with holding hands the whole way through that week’s movie night without anyone noticing.

As the two of them lived the closest to each other, they spent every moment they could at each other’s houses (though mostly at Richie’s – his parents were far more prone to knocking than Mrs Kaspbrak was). Despite all the time that they spent together, however, Richie still hadn’t found a good way of telling Eddie that he was in a D&D party. He fully acknowledged how ridiculous his situation was – he couldn’t bring himself to say it, though he also couldn’t imagine that Eddie would be too upset if he just told him and it would mean that he could potentially invite him to join their party. Their party could do with a Bard. The rest of the drama kids were too focused on exploring the tragedy of their backstories and the idea of having Eddie’s quick wit and banter at the table was a glorious one.

There was just no good fucking way to bring it up.

It was getting to the point by Thursday evening where he found himself, for the first time ever, dreading the next session. He knew he had to tell him – he wasn’t going to give Eddie a sloppy excuse – but he was already curling into a ball at the embarrassing idea of not only having to admit to Eddie that he also played D&D, but also that, for whatever reason, he had felt too awkward to talk about it until then.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to do anything when a beaming Eddie stopped by Richie’s place on his way home.

“I can’t stay – my mom’s inviting people over tonight so I have to help her set up. I just wanted to let you know that I found another group that plays D&D and I’m starting with them tomorrow. I don’t even have to change my time slot.”

“That’s great,” Richie said, pulling Eddie into a hug just as the pager in his pocket started beeping.

“Shit, that’s my mom. We’re still on for Saturday, right?”

“Always.” Richie kissed Eddie on the cheek and when it looked like he was lingering at the hope of more, Richie laughed and nudged him out the door. “Go, you dork. The last thing we need is your mom not letting you come over anymore because she thinks I’m trying to kidnap you or some bullshit.”

“Miss you already,” said Eddie and though Richie vowed he would never, ever, be one of those couples, the sentiment made his stomach somersault.

“Miss you too,” said Richie, closing the door before he said anything more cliché and sappy than that.

Richie got to Will’s house early the next night to help set up the game table and set out chairs.

“Are you alright there?” his friend asked, giving him a curious look. “You’re kinda bouncy today.”

“I have ADHD – I’m always bouncy.”

“You know what I mean,” scoffed Will. “It’s like you have an extra spring in your step or something.”

For a brief moment, Eddie’s face popped into his head and Richie couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

“I guess I’m just really looking forward to tonight’s session,” he replied and though Will still looked curious, he didn’t press the matter further.

“Oh shit, before I forget,” Will said, taking a tray of pizza rolls out the oven, “we have a new guy joining us tonight.”

It took every one of Richie’s spider-man reflexes not to drop the bowl of chips he was setting out.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded casual and not like his blood was suddenly pounding in his ears.

“Yeah. Steve Himble from the AV club says that two of his players were giving him shit so he decided to just stop the game, but he’d invited this guy from his Biology class to join them and he feels shitty that he dissolved the party just as he was starting to really get into it. Apparently, he’s really good. He’s playing a Bard, so that should be fun.”

“Yeah,” Richie replied, not sure what else to say. Was it too late to fake being sick to avoid the situation that was rapidly hurtling towards him?

The crunch of tyres in the driveway answered that question for him.

When the rest of the party had arrived and there was no sign of Eddie, Richie began to hope against all hope that Eddie had chickened out or that he wasn’t going to show, but there was a damning knock at the door five minutes later. Eddie strolled into the room a moment later, as adorable as he always was, cheeks flushed because he was no doubt embarrassed to be the last to arrive.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said as he strode towards the table. “I took a wrong turn and I got…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes locked with Richie’s and Richie, unsure of what else he could do to make the situation less awkward, waved at him.

“No worries, Eddie,” said Will. “We usually just talk bullshit for the first half an hour anyway. I take it you know Richie?”

“Yeah, we’re friends,” Eddie replied, pulling his eyes away from Richie to introduce himself to the rest of the party. When he took the seat next to Richie, Richie was certain that his heart was visibly thudding like in a Tex Avery cartoon.

“Sorry, Eds, I meant to tell you, but the moment passed on the first day and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up again without looking like a dumbass,” Richie whispered.

“The good news is that you don’t need to worry about looking like a dumbass,” Eddie replied under his breath as he set out his character sheet, notebook, and dice, “because you are one. And I’d be a lot madder at you if it wasn’t just such a fucking relief to see you here.”

He threaded his fingers through Richie’s under the table, and Richie beamed at him. The crisis had been averted.

Eddie was as good as Will said he was. It became instantly clear from the moment he opened his mouth that he was just what the party needed. His Bard was snarky, impulsive and had a witty comeback for almost everything. Richie had been right in his guess that they would role-play well together – their characters bantered back and forth seamlessly and it filled Richie with pride to see the rest of the party laughing at Eddie’s clever one-liners. It was also the best feeling in the world to glance over at the person he loved more than anyone else in the world and know that he was enjoying all of this as much as he was.

While in combat with several wyverns that had suddenly snuck up on the party, Eddie nudged Richie, pushing his notebook closer so that he could read what he had scribbled there.

Salvan is kinda based on you, just so you know.

Richie couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, despite the twenty points of damage Lucy’s character took just then. He scrawled his reply beneath Eddie’s message, the words curving up because of the angle he was writing at.

Pips is kinda based on you too.

Eddie gave him a confused look and began writing again.

An angry little gnome cleric? I don’t get it.

Richie raised an eyebrow at him.

Think about it, babe. You’re obsessed with making the people around you better – healing – and you hold a disproportionate amount of rage for someone so small.

Eddie narrowed his eyes at Richie after reading the note, but the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

Fuck you so much, Tozier. ♡

Richie’s stomach flipped at the little heart next to his name, and he smiled softly to himself as he penned his reply.

Fuck you too, Kaspbrak. ♡♡

Eddie blushed, and Richie wondered how he had gotten so lucky. For the first time in years, he officially had no secrets.

Well, he mused as he took Eddie’s hand again under the table, at least not from him.

–

@faequill

[dragongoddess13]

Marvelous Maisie Month Part 1

Bad Friends Part III

Read on Ao3

“For someone whose so sure this isn’t a date, you look pretty nice.” Robb grinned, leaning on the doorframe of Arya’s room. Arya looked up from trying to apply mascara and glared at her brother. 

“I’m still going out, I want to look nice.” Arya replied. Before he could reply, Sansa’s voice popped up behind Robb.

“Ooo, you have a date tonight?” she asked, peeking around Robb. 

“No.” Arya replied just as Robb said;

“Sure does.” 

“He’s just a friend.” she defended. 

“Yeah, but he wants to be more.” Robb smirked as Sansa looked up at him excitedly. 

“No he doesn’t.” Arya argued and Sansa turned with a knowing grin. 

“You sound upset by that.”

“She is.” 

“Do you mind, I can speak for myself.” 

“So do you want him to want more?” Sansa asked. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter if I do or not, because he doesn’t.” she shrugged. 

“What makes you think he doesn’t?”

“Because I’ve seen his ex-girlfriend.” Arya stood from her vanity, moving to her closet and disappearing inside. She reemerged now dressed in a leather mini skirt, with matching jacket and a black lace bralette underneath. In her hand she carried a pair of black studded combat boots. “She’s gorgeous. Huge boobs, full lips, almost as tall as him.” 

“What does that have to do with his interest in you?” Sansa asked. 

Arya looked at her incredulously. “Seriously? She was practically a supermodel.”

“And you’ve won multiple gold medals in the Olympics. You can’t compare yourself to other people. You’re your own person.” 

Arya sighed. “I know that. I just… he could have literally anyone he wanted. When we go out, girls hit on him all the time. Not a single one of them ever considers that we might be together, they just assume we’re only friends.” 

“Luckily, their opinions don’t matter compared to his.” 

Before Arya could reply, the doorbell rang. She got up, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. “That would be him. I’ll see you guys later.” 

Arya left her siblings behind descending the stairs and opening the front door to find Gendry on the other side. He was looking off to the side, but when she opened the door, he turned to look at her, his eyes widening at the sight of her. She looked down at herself, suddenly self conscious. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked, snapping him out of whatever thoughts had claimed him. 

“No, not at all. You look really nice.” he replied and she can feel heat bloom across her cheeks. 

“Thanks. You look nice too.” and he did. Dark wash jeans that she could tell hugged his ass and his Rugby jersey under a black leather jacket. “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah, if you are.” he said, stepping aside so she could step out onto the stoop. She closed the door behind her and followed him out to the driveway, where he left his car. She’s always loved his car. Gendry had grown up in the garage of his father’s estate, determined to keep his distance from his stepmother. He learned everything he could about cars and engineering and machining, basically anything he could do with his hands he wanted to learn and his father, impressed with his skill, had bought him an old car to restore. He did, then sold it. Then he bought another old car, restored it and sold it afterward as well. He continued to do this for years, until he was sixteen and restored a 1970 GTO, which he kept for himself. 

Arya would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about all the fun they could have in the back seat, but she put it aside as she climbed into the passenger seat, trying not to think too much of the fact that he had opened her door for her. 

xXx

The party was at one of his team mates homes. A large mansion on the outskirts of Wintertown. Arya had enjoyed it from the very beginning, but she had always been a social butterfly, as he mother liked to say. Gendry, on the other hand, was a very private person and quite frankly, would undoubtedly prefer to be at home watching movies than here working on a hangover. She wasn’t entirely sure why he asked her to come here with him if he didn’t want to go at all, and judging by the way he was sticking close to her, he definitely didn’t want to be here. 

“You okay?” Arya asked, forcing Gendry to lean over so he can hear her. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You don’t look like you want to be here.” she told him. He hesitated, then replied;

“I kinda don’t?” he looked like it pained him to say it, and Arya laughed. 

“Then let’s go.” 

He shook his head. “You’re having fun, I don’t want to take that away from you.” he told her. 

Something in the way he looked down at her, lit a flame of hope in her chest and she answered without thought; “Don’t be stupid, stupid, I’m only having fun cause your here.” 

Gendry smiled. “Yeah?” she nodded. “How about this? We have one more drink and then we head back to my flat and watch that movie you wanted to see?” 

She smiled back. “Sounds good.” 

He nodded. “I’ll get us another one.” he replied, turning to head for the kitchen. When he was gone, Arya pulled out her phone shooting off a text to Sansa. 

Arya: Don’t tell Robb, but I think he was right.

Sansa: YESSSS!!!! I want details when you get home!

Arya smiled to herself as she read her sisters reply, oblivious to the presence that approached. 

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice sounded behind her. Arya sighed, tensing at the snotty tone. She turned to find Jeyne standing there, hands on her hips and three other girls standing behind her. She vaguely recognized them from their few shared classes in high school. 

“Why does it matter?” Arya replied. 

Jeyne scoffed. “I’m just asking, no need to be a bitch.” 

Arya rolls her eyes. Jeyne Poole was a blight on the face of Arya’s otherwise good life. From an early age, she had made it a point to torment Arya, calling her vicious names, and going out of her way to tear her down. The worst part was the fact that Sansa had allowed it to happen and on a few occasions, joined in. It was only recently they had worked out their issues, but Jeyne still stuck around, still behaved like they were in middle school. From the very beginning it was obvious that Jeyne was the type of person who rode coattails, and in this case, she was riding Sansa’s. Sansa was rich and popular and while Jeyne came from a wealthy family as well, she wasn’t first family wealthy like The Starks. 

“I have friends on the team, they invited me.” she finally replied. She should just walk away, but she didn’t want Gendry to have to search for her. 

“Of course you do.” she rolled her eyes. “The only way any man would be interested in you.” her friends laughed and Arya squinted at them like she couldn’t believe they were real. 

“Do you hear yourself when you speak?” she asked, silencing them. “You’re twenty-five, why don’t you act like it? I know you peaked in junior high, but maybe if you actually put some effort into growing up, you’d achieve something for once in your miserable life.” 

“You stupid bitch.” Jeyne exclaimed in outrage, stepping forward and raising her hand. Arya grabs her wrist before she can slap her and pushes it away. 

“Could you be anymore cliche?” Arya asked, just as two larger guys approached, one of which she recognized as the owner of the house. 

“Hey, if your going to act like that you need to leave.” he told Jeyne, who looked up at him outraged. 

“Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed. 

“No, I’m not. Get out of my house.” he told her, herding her and the other girls toward the door, leaving Arya alone when Gendry appeared. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, a beer in either hand. Arya looked up at him and nodded. 

“Fine.” she replied, taking one of the drinks. She chugged it, emptying it in five gulps. 

“Yeah, you’re totally fine.” he muttered. 

“You wanna get out of here?” she asked, catching her breath. 

“Yeah, sure.” he agreed, setting his beer on a table and following her out of the house. The entire drive to his flat was quiet and Gendry forced himself to keep his eyes on the road. He’d only been gone for a few minutes, but by the time he stepped back out of the kitchen, looking out over the crowd he’d spotted those girls with Arya. it was obvious she knew them and then the girl she had been talking to got angry and lashed out. He’d started forcing his way across the room then, only for his teammates to beat him there. By the time he made it to her side they were all gone and Arya was left looking upset and angry. 

Gendry pulled into his parking space in his apartment complex and Arya jumped out of the car as he turned it off. He got out, leading her up to his apartment. Once inside she begged off to the bathroom while he set up the movie. 

“Don’t let her get to you.” she muttered under her breath as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d spent years letting Jeyne get under her skin, making her feel like she was ugly and alone and unwanted. Not anymore. She was above that, she was strong. She knew her value. And yet as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help but pick out all of her insecurities. 

Arya took a deep breath, realizing she’d been gone a little too long and made her way out into the living room where Gendry was waiting on the sofa. His jacket was gone and she removed hers, goosebumps rising up as the cold hit her. 

“Do you want a hoody?” he asked as she sat down. 

“Do you mind?” 

He shook his head, jumping up and disappearing down the hall. He returned quickly, carrying the black zip up hoody she’s seen him wear to the gym on multiple occasions. “Thanks.” she took it, slipping it on. She was immediately surrounded by the smell of his soap, spicy and sharp and surprisingly comforting. 

“So...um… can I ask you something?” he spoke up, reclaiming his seat and watching her cuddle down into his hoody. She looked at him expectantly. “Who was that girl?” 

Arya took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Her name is Jeyne Poole. She was my sister’s best friend growing up.”

“And you don’t like each other?” 

She shook her head, looking away. “I barely know her. She doesn’t like me and I have no idea why.” she explained. “When we were kids she used to torment me. She used to call me Arya Horseface and then neigh whenever I walked by.”

“Seriously?” he asked. He sounded angry and Arya looked up at him, seeing the anger in his voice play across his face. She simply nodded. “And your sister just let her do that?”

“Sometimes she joined in.” she told him. “It’s taken a lot of discussion for us to get passed all of that.” she shook her head again. “None of that matters now though. I’m well passed letting her get under my skin.”

“Good.” he replied. “Movie?” 

She smiled. “Yes please.” she smiled back, turning the TV on and starting up the movie. Arya kicked off her shoes, getting comfortable. About half way through the movie, she grabbed a pillow from the end of the couch and set it against Gendry’s leg, laying down against it. 

Arya isn’t sure when she fell asleep, but the next thing she knew, she felt the pillow under her shift and she looked up to find Gendry standing over her. 

“Hey.” he said, running a hand through her hair. 

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” she replied. 

Gendry chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s late, you can stay here tonight if you want.” she simply nodded, closing her eyes, ready to drift back to sleep. She was just falling asleep when she felt herself lifted up, startling her awake. 

“What are you doing?” she asked groggy, looking around as he carried her through the apartment. 

“Going to bed.” he chuckled. “I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa all night, you’ll be sore in the morning.” he continued, stepping into his bedroom. He set her down on his bed, and she sat up as he stepped away, mostly awake now. Gendry turned from the dresser carrying a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He set them on the bed next to her. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Make yourself at home.” 

“Kay.” she muttered as he grabbed a few more things out of the dresser and ducked into the bathroom. When he was gone, Arya quickly changed, folding her clothes and set them aside. They were way too big on her, the legs well passed her own feet and the shirt falling off her shoulder. She smiled though, climbing into bed and taking a deep breath. Everything smelled like him and she was lulled back to sleep quickly, waking only long enough to realize Gendry had gotten into bed. 

xXx

Arya woke with the feeling of steel bands around her waist and something solid at her back. It took a moment to remember where she was. She turned to look over her shoulder, studying the soft lines of his face. He was so pretty. She couldn’t stop looking at him. Long eyelashes brushed his cheek bones, neatly trimmed hair framed his mouth and covered his chin. He was just too pretty to be real, but he was real. 

He must have felt her watching him, because it wasn’t long before he began to stir, eyes fluttering open and landing squarely on her as they focused. He smiled when he met her eye. 

“Good morning.” he greeted her, voice rough from sleep. The deep timber of his voice raked over her nerves and she had to resisted the sudden urge to grind back against him and the bulge she suddenly realized was pressing against her. He didn’t seem to notice and she wasn’t about to bring it up. Instead she turned around to face him, his arms loosening to let her move around. “Sleep well?” he asked. 

“Yes. Thank you.” she smiled. “You?”

“Mmm.” he hummed. Silence fell between them and Arya eventually closed her eyes, curling up against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. He went along with it easily, pulling her closer. “Want to skip the gym this morning?”

“Yes please.” she muttered, dozing off to sleep again. 

When she woke again some time later, it was Gendry who was watching her this time. She smiles shyly up at him and curled in again, loving the way his chest rumbled as he chuckled. 

“Can I ask you something?” He said.

“Anything.” She replied. 

“I want you to be honest and remember that even if our answers aren’t the same, it won’t change anything between us. I won’t let it.” 

At the somewhat seriousness of his tone, Arya looked up, concern shining in her eyes. “Okay.” 

“Did you… think of last night as a date?” 

“I… I wanted to…” she said, her voice full of concern. He could promise nothing would change all he wanted, but if they weren’t on the same page, they certainly weren’t going to be able to get passed that easily, if at all.

Gendry smiled, and the nervous ball of tension that had tightened in her chest, released. 

“Glad we’re on the same page.” 

[queen-rogah]

Trapped in Montreux (Roger Taylor x Reader) - Part Three

Summary: You got a job as a bartender in a yacht somewhere in Switzerland, and you didn't know that the yacht was rented by a famous band for the whole weekend...

Warnings: none :) just some strong languages

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Note: We will be having the boat party scene in this part now yay! Enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

PART ONE | PART TWO

Tomorrow will be the first shift of your bartending job in the yacht with Gerda. You're now living here in Montreux for a week and it's also been two days since Roger signed your skin, the signature faded now but the feeling is still there. You can remember how his hands; that are callused from his drumming in the band, held your hands as he softly write on your skin. Nobody who is famous like him did that to you, out of all meet-and-greets with some famous people with Gerda, that is just the first time. You're still planning on wanting to leave Montreux to live in Milan. This breakfast, you have talked to Gerda about it again.

"So, my plan in Milan?..." You added the topic again, watching Gerda eat on her cereal bowl then looked up to you.

"What about it? You seem like you're loving Montreux ever since Roger noticed you." Gerda teases as she smirks at you.

"No I'm not!--"

"--yes you are Y/N. It's obvious." She rolls her eyes, continuing on eating her breakfast.

You ignored her, "I don't care, I'm still gonna leave this place if I will save up more money to go to Milan, whether you like it or not." You said, taking your empty plate and washed it yourself.

Gerda knew that you're pissed. She knew she crossed your line.

So your best friend approaches you, setting her bowl on the counter and then hugged you from the back, saying her sorry that she made you angry, "Hey, I'm sorry Y/N...I know I'm being so annoying and selfish about staying here in Montreux but..I really like it here..." She frowns.

You turn around to face her, "Yes, you like it here but I don't. If you want to live here then do it by yourself while I'm gonna save up for Milan. Okay Gerda?." You interject then turn your back from her again.

"I know Milan means so much to you Y/N, but we are now living here in Montreux for a week now and we're still arguing about this?." Gerda complained and that made you suck in a breath.

"I...I'm sorry Gerda." You stammer, facing her again. "This place means to much to you also and I'm happy that nothing is going wrong to us." You grinned.

"So, you're saying about staying here in Montreux?." She asks with a smile on her face again.

You still gave her an I don't know look but had a reassuring smile, "Maybe or maybe not. Let's just see if Montreux will change my mind for Milan." You smirked.

"Guess you're stuck with me loser." She teases. You pinched her side as she squeals, moving away from you.

"Guess I am," You responded, "I'm trapped here in Montreux with you."

...

Miami is now contacting Fionn about the party, he had his friends called too and more people with come who is in touch with Freddie. People that are like him, free, flamboyant and fun. Brian had his family over but Chrissie said to him that they'll also leave because she doesn't know what will happen in that party that his kids won't pleasantly see, John was beside Freddie who is talking on the phone with Mary, asking if she wants to come but she can't, but didn't have any excuses. Roger is also on the phone with his girl, hearing his children in the background.

"How are you and the kids?." Roger asked. His back leaning over the wall as he stare at the ground.

"Felix is taking care of Rory, he really loves her sister so much. I wish you're back home with us Rog." Dominique replied with a sad tone in her voice. Roger again felt bad but he promised that after this weekend, he will go straight home and be with his little family.

"I promise I'll be there after the party that Freddie have for us. Okay, Dom?." Roger said and his girl felt the warm feeling in her heart. Brian came inside the room with Chrissie and his kids as he suddenly handed a letter to Roger, he took it from him and open it to see a polaroid picture of Dominique holding Rory, and that made him smile.

"You didn't tell me you sent a picture." Roger said to the phone and that made Dominique chuckle on the other line.

"It's a surprise Rog. Rory looked very beautiful there, very damn beautiful that I want to take a picture of her. And I did, we took a whole lot of pictures but this one is my favorite. And I'm giving it to you." She said. Roger is still staring at the picture, looking at his daughter and the person he loves. He did pictured a future with Dominique and he thinks he's finally ready for marriage with her.

He kept thinking about proposing to her, planning on getting a ring, planning on going on one knee for her as he asks her if she wants to marry him. Roger was scared to commit himself to a person he truly knows and loved, but with Dominique inside his mind and his heart, his scared self fades away. He's now sharing two healthy and happy children with her, all that is missing with her getting his last name.

"You both looked perfect babe." Roger said, then put the picture inside his bag where it is secured.

"I miss you Roger." She sighed.

"I miss you too Dom, see you soon. I promise. I love you. Tell the kids that I love them too." Roger replied and she hum in response.

"We love you Roger, you know that. Take care always." Dominique ended the call as Roger put the phone down. His eyes trailed up to the three boys in front of him doing their own business.

"I want to marry Dominique." Roger seriously said, making the boys stop on what they are doing and stare up at him. Also Chrissie who is beside Brian had her jaw dropped open, but their kids kept playing in peace.

"Is that a good thing...or a bad thing?." Brian asks and Roger rolled his eyes.

"Of course it's a good thing Brian! Are you damn stupid?." Roger deadpans.

"I don't know, the way you just said it was a different kind of way in saying that you want to marry Dominique." Brian replied.

"But if you want to marry her, then marry her. We loved her with you and Dominique is a lovely lady." Deaky added also.

"We can help you find a perfect ring by the time we go back in London. Then I'll throw a party where you will go down on one knee as you ask her to marry you." Freddie intervene, giving Roger a genuine smile on his face.

"You mean that Fred?." Roger made sure and the lead singer nods his head.

"Of course darling. I will do that for you and for Dominique. Also to my niece and nephew." Freddie grinned. Roger replied with an ok as he thought about scenarios in his mind about the proposal.

...

You and Gerda are finding some white button up shirt and some black slacks for the uniform in the yacht by tonight already. You've been searching for different racks of clothes in boutiques around Montreux and when you both found the outfit in a local store, you both can't wait to do the job already. Gerda have mentioned that those yachts are party yachts where the people can rent it and use it all night long for themselves. Fionn's father actually owns five large boats that can fit hundreds of people on deck.

You also tested your skills on knowing how to mix the drinks, Gerda gives you a drink while you say the contents of it and how strong it is. You and Gerda take turns on the questions.

"Okay there a different types of Martini, name those and tell the contents. Let's take turns, you first." Gerda asks and you thought quickly. Remembering each drinks.

"The classic gin martini, and it should have a dry vermouth, angostura bitters, lemon twists and most importantly, the gin." You expertly said. Martini is one of your best mixes, one of the best sellers in the bar you've worked on before.

Gerda smirks, taking her turn, "The dry martini, and it can either have cranberry, pineapple, and grapefruit juice and should be mixed with a club soda and simple syrup." Gerda also expertly answered.

"My personal favorite, the Hawaiian martini, it should have...pineapple juice, coconut rum, triple sec and then vodka. That drink will never ever go away in my senses when I will have a lot of drinks with it." You licked your lips.

Gerda was about to speak but she was beat to it with the phone ringing, she picked it up and heard it's Fionn talking on the other line, "Gerda? Are you there?." He asks.

"Yeah. Gerda here." She replied, you stood beside her also.

"Are you and your friend ready for your shift tonight? Because the boat that you both will be in is going to have lots and lots of people. Maybe I'll call the other bartenders too to help you guys out. Good luck later." He said.

"Wait--wait, lots and lots of people? What's happening? A graduation? A rich men yacht party with supermodels walking around or--?."

"--what if I say it's a celebration of the biggest rock band today? It's like their success party for their latest record." Fionn interjects and that made Gerda stop in her tracks.

"Don't tell me it's Queen you're talking about." Gerda said in a serious tone and when you heard that band name, your head also turn to Gerda who is panicking on the inside.

"What if I tell you that it's actually Queen who rented the boat and will be using it by the whole weekend. Tonight will be the success party for the album and the following day will be just a huge boat party hosted by the one and only Freddie Mercury." He said. Gerda tries to contain herself from what she is hearing, but she dropped the phone and screamed like the happiest kid who got the biggest prize on a game.

"Holy fuck! Holy fuck?! HOLY FUCK!." Gerda shouted around the living room while you hear her say those words from the kitchen. You walk in the room to see her standing at the corner looking shocked.

"Who called?." You asked. She ignored you as she came back to the phone again.

"Are you fucking sure Fionn?." Gerda asked to Fionn on the phone, only to hearing him chuckle.

"Did I ever lie to you?." Fionn said and it made Gerda smile so hard again.

"See you tonight Fionn." She squeals and ended the call, facing towards you again with the biggest smile she has. Even bigger than the one where she met the Queen members.

"So? I guess that's Fionn, what did he say? Is it about the boat? Is he making us quit? Is he--"

Gerda gripped your shoulders as you stopped rambling words, "The yacht where we will be mixing drinks will be rented by them."

You furrowed your brows, "Who's them?."

"Queen! It will be used by Queen! They are hosting a success party for their new album! You're gonna see Roger Taylor again!." Gerda squeals in happiness as she jumps up and down.

But you just stood there, feeling so numb that you will see Roger again. You can probably see yourself being so anxious in the yacht, trying to hide yourself from him.

"Holy fuck it is." You mumbled and sat down on the couch, thinking what would happen in that party tonight.

...

You looked at yourself in the mirror, wearing the clothes that you and Gerda bought for bartending. Tonight is the night and you don't know what to do. What if you'll forget the drinks? What if you'll fail in doing the job? What if you'll pour a drink over someone because you're distracted. You're overthinking what would happened tonight, but thank god Gerda is with you. Probably going to guide you but also can tease you when Roger is definitely around.

You look over to Gerda beside you who's fixing her makeup and then her hair. You sighed and finally took the bag of her makeup since she's been bugging you to wear some. So when your hand reaches over to the lipstick, her head whips to you with that familiar smirk.

"Fucking finally." Gerda laughs as she continues on applying her blush on and pursed her lips with the lipstick on. She looked good actually.

"You're just gonna mix some drinks in a corner while you look like that. Makeup is just a waste of time for this event." You complained while putting lipstick on your lips and now you're done.

"Well at least we look presentable to the other people. I'm not just gonna impress Queen--"

"--specifically Brian May..." You interject as you roll your eyes.

Gerda glares at you as you snort a small laugh, "But still, I'm gonna be lookinh ravishing than the other woman there." She sassed.

"Oh wow, your confidence already ate mine." You laughed, "Just remember that supermodels come and go in a Queen party. I mean you're pretty, Gerda but they are way more prettier."

"Oh shut up, my own kind of beauty can shut their supermodel assess off." Gerda smirks again and noticed that she's already done.

"I wish I have that kind of confidence you had." You chuckled and took your wallet, putting it inside your pocket and now you're ready to go. Gerda is the one that's holding a bag.

"I'm taking these," Gerda said, reaching over the box of Marlboro laying on the kitchen counter, "And use this while on our breaks."

"Perfect." You said and now you're both ready to go. You left the flat and took a cab to where Fionn's father's boat are. You did look around the city of Montreux, it's beautiful but you just remembered that you wanted to escape here for Milan. With Gerda, you think everything will be alright in your stay.

"I can't believe we're going on a Queen party." Gerda excitedly said and you look over to her, seeing her hands slowly shaking in fear or in excitement.

"Not kidding but, upon seeing some videos of Queen parties, I think they look good. Maybe a lot of sex and drugs." You said.

"Sex, drugs and rock and roll baby. That's what they do since the 70s."

Minutes later, the cab finally stopped to see the dock at the lake. You can literally see many people around, going out of their luxurious cars. You didn't know that there are a lot of people here and that made your anxiety eat you up. Gerda was the first one to leave the cab while you paid the driver, smile at him, before leaving the vehicle too. Your heart dropped on the sight of the large boat floating on the lake, it already has a lot of people inside, hearing the loud blaring music and lights are around.

You gulped, "Holy fuck, this is huge." You mumbled, standing beside Gerda who is also astonished on a Queen party right in front of her.

You can see the sign on the boat saying, Welcome Queen! And the people laughing as they already had drinks in their hands. Just plain old champagne and ice cold pint of lagers.

"Gerda!."

You turn your head to your right to see Fionn wearing a black suit and tie, had the biggest smile on his face as he shared a hug with Gerda. In the back of your mind, you see Gerda and Fionn look good together, that's why you're smirking at your best friend who is literally enjoying the hug of this man.

"Hi Fionn." Gerda greeted as they move away from each other. "I guess you knew Y/N right here."

"Oh yes! Good evening Y/N," He said, reaching to your hand to shake it. "Hope you two have the energy to do the drinks, because Queen parties actually will die when a small peck of sunlight will come up."

Okay, so this party will last until tomorrow.

"Did the Queen boys already came?." Gerda excitedly asked.

"They are already on their way. Maybe--"

You suddenly heard some noises behind you to see the paparazzi's already flashing their cameras, it means that they have arrived. Your eyes have found Freddie Mercury in the crowd, wearing that brown leather jacket, then Brian was with his wife and his kids, which is weird because the party is filled with adults, and then you see John and Roger stopped in front of the paparazzi so they can get a clear picture.

"Is the press relevant in this party?." You asked Fionn.

"Freddie said it so. The press can actually go inside to take several pictures and videos of the party." Fionn said.

"Freddie really love to show it off." Gerda said. Fionn soon guide you both inside the party, your eyes looking at the random people having fun.

"Brandon, Arvin and Frida are already at the bar. There they are." Fionn pointed to the direction towards the bar to see the three bartenders already mixing drinks. You said your goodbyes to Fionn and made your way to the bar.

"Hi, I'm Y/N...this is Gerda." You introduced yourself to the others. Frida is the only one who waved her hand while the others gave you a small smile, too busy to greet tonight.

"Hello! I'm Frida!." Her Swiss accent came in and actually hugged us both right here. "And that's Arvin," She pointed at the blonde guy working on some margaritas, "And that's Brandon." Pointing at the brunette working on a classid daiquiri.

"Brandon is attractive though." Gerda whispered in your ear as she smirks again. You think she noticed how you just stare at Brandon making drinks.

"Oh fuck off Gerda, you're doing that again to me."

After introducing them to you and Gerda, you both took the black aprons and tie it around your waists. More guests came in and the crowd at the center where the music is loud became huge. Then one of the songs you loved to dance to suddenly came on, also the other people dances happily to it. It's Bon Jovi's, Livin' on a prayer. A hit.

When you just poured the drink on the glass to whom it will, you slightly sway your hips with the beat and start to lipsync the lyrics. Gerda is also feeling the beat as she looked over to you, giving you a wink before mixing some drinks again.

"You're quite a dancer huh."

You turn your head to see Brandon enthusiastically looking at you and your swaying hips. Your cheeks turn red when he said that and let out a shaky laugh.

"It's nothing. I just love that song." You mumbled and exhaled to stop yourself from blushing in front of him. It would be embarassing for you.

"Jovi. Love him also, such a huge hit this year." He chuckles, wiping his hand on the towel below the counter.

You and Brandon fell in awkward silence since you really don't know to get a conversation going, "I...I actually didn't introduce myself earlier since you're too busy. Hi, I'm Y/N."

"Y/N, nice to finally meet you." He smiles, holding your hand as you smiled also. His brown eyes resting to yours, already feeling the warmth of his touch.

...

Freddie, Brian, John and Roger came in the party to hear the people praise them. Congratulating them from side to side, offering them a drink as they pat their shoulders. Freddie was soom swarmed by press while talking to others. John found some friends as they are now dancing to the beat, Brian left the scene to guide his family on the top deck where Miami and others are.

Roger is now standing in the corner talking to some of his friends he called, but he kept thinking about the marriage with Dominique. He drank on the cocktail drink that they have offered him.

"Such a delicious drink, what's this?." Roger asks.

"Fuzzy Navel, got it on the bar." The girl beside him said. Roger drank the rest of the drink. He excused himself from the group to order the same drink but his steps stopped when he see the familiar girl in the meet-and-greet.

He see you laughing along with Brandon, and when someone orders a drink you both do it expertly. Roger gulped to see you here since he never had this kind of feeling towards a girl like you, only a girl that has a friend who is a Queen fan.

And the fact that Roger was attracted by you, which is the worst thing. He just kept thinking about Dominique earlier and when he sees you there, everything just fades away. He mentally cursed himself in what's happening. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be staring at you while talking to the guy you're trying to show yourself off.

"Bloody hell..." Roger groaned and inhaled before going to the bar.

Montreux stays in Montreux right?

_________________________

*TAGLIST:

@queen-turtle-boiii @toomuchtellyneck

just reply if you want to be in the taglist :)

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 60

Chapter Summary - The Hiddleston's deal with Emma's words to Danielle before Christmas, but Danielle pleads with them to drop it.

When Tom and Danielle get talking, they discuss matters that require Luke's input, which quickly leads to Tom begging her for something.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​ @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom and Danielle walked over to Diana’s with Danielle still in her nightwear and Tom in the jeans and hoodie he went to the shops in. As soon as they entered the house, the thick atmosphere was the first thing they noticed.

“Right, first things first, Yakov, get your daughter and go to mine,” Danielle ordered, Yakov nodded and rushed upstairs to get his daughter out of the horrible atmosphere. “Ready?” She asked, looking to Tom.

“For what, Emma deserves this.”

“Tom, no good comes from holding grudges, I told you that after everything with Taylor, now, she is your sister, and this is all out now so we move on.”

Tom did not seem so sure but nodded in agreement in the end. “Fine.” He conceded grudgingly as they made their way into Diana’s kitchen.

Inside, Sarah and Diana stood at one side of the room while Emma and Jack stood on the other, the older Hiddleston women glaring at the younger, her husband looking almost ashamed next to her. When Tom and Danielle entered, Sarah and Diana immediately looked to them.

“Is what I heard true Tom?” Sarah demanded as soon as Danielle closed the door. “Well?”

“Sarah…”

“I’ve sent Yakov over to mine with the Duchess, it’s not healthy to have her hear this.” Danielle began, the other adults looked somewhat ashamed. “The other day, Emma was slightly annoyed and tried to extend something of an olive branch to me, but I had just gotten out of bed and was wearing Tom’s shirt, she saw that and got pissed off again leading her to say that she wanted me to back off, she had lost time with her brother of late and I was to give her time with him and the family, I did so, resulting in my less than fine moment of fracturing my wrist, but since then she has apologised to myself and Tom and we have to her and have tried to get passed everything that happened, so please, can we continue to do that?”

“She...she actually told you to back off from us, wait, is that why you didn’t ring to say you were in fucking hospital.”

“Sarah.” Diana chastised.

“Mum, you are worried about my language right now?”

“Look, Emma felt betrayed, you and she both know, hell, even Diana knows that people have become obsessed with using you guys to get to Tom, and well, can you blame her for getting pissed off with me? I was supposed to be her friend and next thing she knows, I am dating her brother, it’s not exactly nice. So her anger is somewhat understandable, as is Tom’s for how she has acted when all he wants is for everyone to be happy.”

“So those two are arguing and you are not mad at Emma?” Sarah asked in disbelief.

“No, I’m not, she is my best friend, and recently I haven’t had a lot of time to show her how much I actually care for her as my best friend and I should have, I’m sorry.” She looked at Emma as she spoke. “I really miss you.”

Emma swallowed and her eyes darted around. “I…” But she said no more.

“It’s done, please everyone, can we not argue about it, Em’s sorry, Tom and I are sorry, and all I was is my breakfast which is going cold for no reason because we are all arguing over a non-issue.”

“She never even got you a present, that is how petty she got, and you are not getting pissed off?” Sarah questioned.

“So what? I got enough this year, seriously, the only thing she needs to give me is a chance to prove I wasn’t using her to get to Tom.”

“You realise for the youngest person here, you’re the most mature one.” Diana smiled fondly looking at her.

“Obviously, I’m Irish,” She tossed her hair dramatically as she spoke before looking over at Jack and smiling “The good kind of Irish.”

“Ha-ha, forever with the jokes, Galway Girl.”

“You know the real one was actually red haired, but it didn’t match the song,” Danielle informed him.

As though the tension had finally gotten too much, Emma burst out laughing, “Why do you know this?”

“You know I know way too much stupid information, that;s why you are always trying to get me to do Table Quizzes with you.”

“You know about American football.”

“I used work nights, there are no other sports on at four am but basketball and American football, you learn fairly quick.” She shrugged. “Came in handy, got me a job next summer with a company from the States because I was able to know who Tom Brady was, and not just that he is married to Gisele Bun-whatever her name is, supermodel lady.”

“That got you a job?” Sarah asked in shock.

“Studio people are stuck around each other for stupid amounts of hours a day, they want people they can talk to, converse with, I clearly just said the right things.”

“Wait, when are you going to America?”

“May or June, I can’t remember, the contract signing is in March.” She dismissed before looking back at him, “Why?”

“I just didn’t…”

“Are you upset I’ll be going away for a few weeks?” She asked with a knowing smile. “Well, who knows, maybe if you’re not busy you can come.”

“It’s weird being the one that will be left behind,” Tom commented.

“We will have to do so from time to time. Now, are we all calm and back to normal?” She asked, looking around; everyone nodded, though she knew they were all still quite awkward with one another. “Fine, I’m getting breakfast, it has been a fairly weird morning.” She stated, much to the confusion of everyone but Tom before towards the back door. “I feel like trash, I am walking around in my pyjamas, I swear, if today is the day the leeches try to get a new pic of Tom, I am going to die of embarrassment.” She growled as she left.

Diana and his sisters looked to Tom for an explanation but all Tom could do is chuckle and shrug before looking to Emma, his face becoming serious again. “On a serious note, she really does want to fix things between you. She is the one fighting for everything to go back the way it was, remember that.” He stated before following her back to her house.

*

“Elle?”

“Bedroom.”

“You changed your study/office.”

“I know, I was going to start studying for a few days while I was home, but I guess I’ll be having to pack it all for London now.” She smiled. “Actually, that’s why I’m in here, I am going to need more than a week’s worth of undies and t-shirts.”

“Well, I have a new suitcase that can help.” He grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I am actually looking forward to this.”

Really?” She turned her head toward him slightly.

“Yes, having you to myself.”

“You had me to yourself before now.”

“But you were working too much.”

“I still have to work,” She reminded him.

“As do I, but we’ll make time, won’t me, to just watch a film?”

“Get a takeaway, perhaps Netflix and Chill.” She smiled turning to look at him. “Maybe even go for a walk in the fresh air, together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, probably away from the city first, then when we are found out, in the park.”

Tom kissed her passionately. “I cannot tell you how much I want that.”

“Good, we also have to talk to Luke about our plan, regarding the picture and that.”

“I’ll text him in a minute, we can organise something then, but I think he will like it.”

“Text him now, no procrastinating, call if you can.” She ordered.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He gave her a military salute as he did so and took out his phone, and got up Luke’s number. “Hello Luke, how was your Christmas?”

“Tom, what’s happened?” Luke’s voice was fearful down the phone.

“Nothing.” Tom rolled his eyes, “Wait, you never used to answer the phone to me like that before.”

“I used never have to worry about you and publicity tramps before.”

Danielle frowned next to Tom. “Hang on, are you talking about Danielle?” Tom began to get annoyed.

“Tom, the only controversial thing about Ms Hughes is what way to spell her first name, she is a publicist’s wet dream in comparison to others,” Luke growled.

“So why bring up others?”

“Because I am terrified that you’re about to tell me something regarding said others.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well then, my Christmas was quite pleasurable, though I think I may never be able to look at poultry again and I may need new pants, these seem tight,” Tom chuckled. “Though I doubt this is a friendly call, so what is it?”

“Elle and I were talking.”

“And?” There was apprehension in Luke’s voice.

“About when it is found out that we are together.” Luke remained silent on the phone. “Danielle came up with an idea and I wanted to run it by you.”

“I’m listening.”

“If we find out someone has spotted us and put it online, we immediately release a photo and statement giving the basic details, her name, where’s she from, and some other tidbits that we want to be known, and if it gets as long as we can, we want to release the information ourselves a few weeks before a wedding or something so the hubbub will die down beforehand.”

“That is brilliant.” Luke was chuckling.

“So you like it?”

“I do, I think it is genius.”

“She wanted to have some control in it, she knows they will snoop regardless, but it gives her some power.”

“It makes sense.” Luke acknowledged. “I am not going to lie, Tom, people are going to go for her no matter how this comes out, some good, plenty bad, but if she remains stoic in public, if they don’t smell blood, they tend to get bored very quickly.”

“She’s nodding here next to me, she knows.”

“Well then, I suggest getting together what you want as the official line and we will keep it ready.” Luke’s smile was blatant down the phone. “This is, without a doubt, far saner Tom, honestly. She...I think she is what you’ve been so sure you could not find, so don’t be an idiot and look after this, right?”

“Okay, I hear you.” Tom grinned.

“There is one thing I am concerned for, though, her home, is it safe? I mean is it properly secured, has she a high wall and gates on it?”

Tom thought it an odd question. “She has a basic wall, about five foot or so at the front and no gate.”

“She’s going to have to get it more secured, they are not supposed to enter her property, but let’s face it, Pap’s are bottom feeders,” Luke explained.

Tom looked to the side where Elle was chewing on her bottom lip apprehensively. “Okay, we’ll get on that.” He informed Luke. “But for the time being, she is going to be in London with me, she wants to study more and her work is based in London studio’s for the new few months.”

“Well, all things considered, that is actually safer for her, but it heightens the risk of you being seen together.”

“Hence the phone call.”

“So long as you are both aware this could erupt at any time and as long as you are both prepared for that, then send on everything you wish to be publicised and I will have it ready to go at the first sign of a story,” Luke instructed.

“Will do, thanks, Luke.”

“Anytime, I also am going to need Ms Hughes’ phone number, and give her mine, if she has any issue…”

“Of course, right away.” Tom agreed.

“Then enjoy your holidays and I will see you on New Years?”

“I said I would be there.”

“And Ms Hughes?”

“Her name is Danielle, Luke, you are going to have to start calling her by it, and I will extend the invitation, should she wish to go.”

“Good, well, have a nice day Tom.”

“You too.” Tom smiled as he hung up the phone. “Luke is having a get together for clients and friends on New Years, I promised weeks ago I would go if you’d rather stay home…”

“Where is it on?”

“Private venue, no outsiders, no photographers, underground carpark so little risk of them.”

Danielle thought for a moment before walking over to her wardrobe and looking at its contents. “I think I don’t have anything for something like that,” she frowned.

Tom walked over, and as Emma had said, right at the back were a few outfits he had never thought Danielle would wear, much less own. “Darling, I know I am sounding pushy, but I am imploring you, please,” He got on his knees as though adding dramatic effect, “Please wear this to the party.” He pointed to a dress that still had tags on it.

“Oh, Jesus, that thing.” she groaned looking at it. “I have no idea what was going through my mind buying that, I could never…”

“Darling, I am begging you, you will look ravishing in it.” His eyes glinted with honesty and arousal.

Danielle looked between him and the dress anxiously. “Okay.”

Tom rose to his feet again, an elated smile on his face. “I mean it, Elle, you will look even more gorgeous than normal, which, in itself, is a difficult feat.” He grinned. “It is classy and sexy.”

“My boobs are going to be showing.”

“Showing, but not hanging out,” Tom pointed out, before grinning wickedly. “And you already know my thoughts of these delicious assets of yours.” He cupped her breasts and bit his lip.

“Insatiable.”

“That’s Mister Insatiable to you, my love.”

[vexedtonightmares]

La Fin Des Temps Chapter 7 (Elu Hogwarts AU)

Vendredi 18:48 - “How did your date go?”

Manon had dragged Lucas along to the inter house unity meeting against his will. Clearly, she had been under the impression that, since he had come to the first one, he would come every week. He’d skipped the one the week before, mostly because he didn’t really want to watch Daphné try to teach everyone how to use a smartphone when she barely knew herself.

Daphné was setting up a way for them to watch a movie, apparently, having run a poll on her Instagram story to see what activity she should plan for the meeting. Lucas supposed this wasn’t the worst way to spend his night, even if he would have rather been lying in bed thinking about Eliott or, even better, having another patronus lesson.

Things had been back to normal between Lucas and Eliott since the weird moment they’d had earlier in the week, but they hadn’t talked about whether or not Eliott would be at this meeting, so Lucas decided to send him a message.

lucallemant: Are you coming to the inter house unity movie night?

He turned his phone over in his hands while he waited for Eliott to reply, startled when someone slipped their hands over his eyes. He grinned slowly. Eliott?

He pulled the hands from his eyes and turned to greet Eliott. “Salu-- oh,” he faltered when he realized it was just Arthur.

“Jeez, don’t be too excited to see me. I only came because Manon sent me pictures of you sitting there looking all lonely,” Arthur said, taking a seat beside Lucas on the floor. Lucas turned to glare at Manon even though he was glad for the company.

“Where are Yann and Basile?” Lucas asked, scanning the room.

Arthur shrugged. “On their way, probably. Yann was finishing up some assignment, I swear to god he’s never not working, and Basile wouldn’t miss a chance to see Daphné somewhere she can’t avoid him. Have you seen Eliott?”

“No, why?” Lucas was glad Arthur had brought up Eliott, he hadn’t wanted to be the one to ask. Eliott hadn’t been at lunch or dinner, but Lucas just assumed he was caught up in his dormitory working on his schoolwork.

“Just haven’t seen him all day, even in our dormitory. I left a note for him to meet us here but… eh, whatever. Maybe he’s off with the person he’s so in love with,” Arthur grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Lucas coughed, not sure he had hear Arthur correctly. “He has a girlfriend? Why hasn’t he said anything to any of us?”

“Oh, no,” Arthur said dramatically, “He’s not dating anyone but he’s sure as hell obsessed with someone. Talks about them all. The. Time. It would be kind of annoying if it weren’t so endearing.”

Lucas wondered who it could be. Eliott had never said anything about liking anyone when they had hung out. Was he trying to keep it a secret? Clearly not, if Arthur knew so much about it. In fact, Arthur was still talking, doing a terrible impression of Eliott.

“Arthur, I couldn’t pay attention in class today because of them. Arthur, we had the best conversation today but I don’t think they feel the same about me. Arthur, their eyes are so pretty. Supermodel eyes, he calls them. Do you know any girls with supermodel eyes?”

Lucas felt his blood boil. Not that it mattered, but supermodel eyes were their thing, his and Eliott’s. The fact that Eliott couldn’t focus in class because of some girl and her supermodel eyes made him angrier than he wanted to admit. He realized Arthur had asked him a question. “I don’t know anyone with supermodel eyes,” he said coldly.

Arthur shrugged, not catching Lucas’ tone. “I’ll ask Yann and Basile. Actually, maybe I’ll ask Alexia, she might know.”

“Why would Alexia know?”

“Oh, right, this mystery person is most definitely in our potions class,” Arthur clarified. “He freaked out all night after we did the Amortentia potion-- nice one, by the way, Imane told me you had no idea what we were brewing-- because he thought he’d been too obvious and given away who he was talking about and that they didn’t feel the same way. I told him he shouldn’t have shared what his potion smelled like with the whole class, but he said he didn’t want you to be the only one who shared. Maybe it worked though, and he’s with his mystery girl right now.”

Lucas was saved from having to respond by the arrival of Yann and Basile plopping down beside the two of them. “What are we talking about?” Yann asked, and Arthur began to fill him in on their conversation about Eliott and the girl he liked. Lucas tuned them out to the best of his ability.

He couldn’t, however, refrain from checking his phone to see if Eliott had opened his message. He hadn’t. Lucas’ stomach churned at the confirmation that, wherever Eliott was and whoever he was with, Lucas was the last thing on his mind.

“Nox,” Daphné said, turning the lights out and letting the movie broadcast itself on the wall in front of them. Apparently, they were watching Star Wars. Not the most Daphné-like choice, but a movie that made him glance at Yann out of the corner of his eye. Yann grinned back, likely remembering their first year bonding over how they were going to be like Jedi once they learned how to do magic.

He let himself enjoy the movie instead of overthinking where Eliott was and who he was with any longer. It was almost a relief, actually, to know for certain that Eliott wasn’t interested in him like that. Sure, he would have preferred a different outcome, but at least now he could stop wondering if Eliott had sat by him at lunch on his first day because he liked Lucas, or if he had asked Lucas to practice patronuses as a way to spend time alone together. Those things had just been friendly, a way for the new kid to get to know someone.

Basile fell asleep about an hour into the movie, head in Arthur’s lap. Yann and Lucas were very offended that their friend had the audacity to fall asleep during Star Wars, so they got their revenge by posting a few photos on his Instagram account with captions and comments that were sure to be un-Daphné worthy.

When the credits rolled and the lights finally turned back on nearly everyone was stretched out comfortably, some asleep, some with heads on their friends or significant others’ shoulders. Basile woke up blearily and tried to pretend he hadn’t been asleep for nearly the entire movie, which was doubly amusing given the fact that he had no idea what Star Wars was and kept trying to explain parts of the movie that he hadn’t seen.

“Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia have got to be the end couple, right? Especially after that, uh, that one scene, you know what I’m talking about, with the uh, space flowers,” Basile rambled. Yann and Lucas exchanged glances behind his back.

Lucas checked his phone again, proud of himself for having avoided doing so until the movie ended. Nothing. Eliott still hadn’t even opened the message. Where was he?

“Lulu, you coming?” Yann had blanket he had brought slung over one shoulder, following Basile and Arthur as they continued to argue about Star Wars.

“In a minute, I should help Manon clean up,” he responded, wanting a moment alone. Yann flashed a thumbs up before leaving him alone. Soon it was only Lucas and the girls left.

“That went well?” Daphné looked to all of them for confirmation, and everyone nodded their heads vigorously.

“It was awesome,” Manon confirmed.

“So great,” Emma added.

Alexia nodded. “Best movie night ever.”

“By next week this club will have everyone in the entire school joining,��� Imane said confidently. The girls looked to Lucas expectantly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, it was really cool Daphy. The guys were just saying how much fun it was.” He might complain about Daphné sometimes, but he really did admire her. In just a few weeks this club had become one of the most popular clubs in the school.

She beamed at him. “Really? Eliott didn’t show up, so I didn’t know if there was something wrong…”

Daphné blushed when she said his name. It seemed he wasn’t the only one with a hopeless crush on Eliott, though that didn’t come as much of a surprise. It was weird to think that he and Daphné would have similar taste in guys, though…

“Don’t take it personally, Daphy, he’s out on a date.” Sure, he didn’t know this for a fact, but the more he repeated it to himself, the less it hurt. Well, in theory. Lucas caught sight of Imane studying him out of the corner of his eye and he did his best to ignore her. Yeah, she clearly knew what his Amortentia had meant. “I’m sure he’ll be at the next one,” he added quickly, just in case Daphné got upset.

There were footsteps and suddenly Eliott was standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath. He looked around the room, face falling. “Oh… is the movie night over?”

“Yes, we finished about ten minutes ago. It was Star Wars, everyone enjoyed it a lot,” Daphné said stiffly.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I really wanted to come.” Eliott was looking at Lucas as he spoke, but Lucas pretended to be busy folding other blankets students had laid with during the movie.

“It’s fine,” Daphné said, warming considerably. It was the Eliott effect. “There will be more movie nights.”

Eliott broke into a wide grin. “I sure hope so. The inter-house unity club is where all the cool things happen, right?”

“Right,” Daphné smiled, ducking her head to hide her blush.

Eliott shifted from foot to foot. “To say sorry, why don’t I finish cleaning up for you guys?”

“Oh, no don’t worry about it, we’re almost done anyway--” Daphné started, but Eliott cut her off.

“No, no, I insist. You’ve done enough. Lucas can help me finish.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows at Eliott, not wholly pleased to be dragged into clean up duty, especially given the messy state of the room. Eliott merely smiled in return, probably due to the lasting high of his date.

“Ok…” Daphné said hesitantly. “Call any of us if you change your mind.”

“Will do.”

With that, the girls took the few items they had brought and filed out of the room, chatting amongst one another, leaving Lucas and Eliott alone.

“You do realize what you’ve volunteered for, right?” Lucas clarified, gesturing around the messy room.

Eliott laughed. “You do realize we’re wizards, right?”

Oh. Yeah. They were, weren’t they?

Eliott cast a few quick spells, debris and dust disappearing as blankets folded themselves and food crumbs vanished from the floor. “That was easy, wasn’t it?”

Eliott made magic look so effortless, like they weren’t just words he was speaking, but a fundamental part of him. Lucas was never able to connect like that to his magic, to feel like it was a part of him. He wished he was, that he felt it deeply in his soul. He wasn’t even sure if he felt anything deeply in his soul at all. At least, not like Eliott did. Lucas held Eliott’s gaze for a moment before his eyes snagged on something in the corner of the room that he hadn’t noticed before. Eliott followed his eyes.

“Did you know I can play the Star Wars theme on the piano? I would show you but I don’t want to impress you too much.” Eliott was closer to him now, teasing grin on his face. Lucas wasn’t paying attention to Eliott for once, eyes still on the piano in the corner. Maybe there was something that made him feel connected to the deepest parts of his soul. He walked over to the piano without sparing Eliott a glance or response, sitting on the bench and running his fingers over the smooth keys. He pressed down on three of them, just to see if the piano was in tune.

“I must say, my Star Wars cover is better,” Eliott joked, sitting down beside him.

“Mmm,” Lucas mumbled in response, trying to call up the memory of a piece he had played long ago with his mom who was no longer his mom. How simple things had been back then, before his dad left and his mom was committed and he was put into the system, only to be scooped up by a different set of parents who still cared too little.

He tested out the same three keys, this time adding a fourth. Yes, this was right. It was all coming back to him now. Closing his eyes briefly, he let instinct take over, playing the song that reminded him of the life he had lost, but the best parts of that life. Sitting with his head on his mother’s shoulder as she played, memorizing her movements, running around outside with his mother and father, basking in the warm air, singing with his mother in the kitchen as she made dinner, not noticing when his father barely showed up or refused to sing along.

Lucas became swept up in the music, fingers hitting the keys softly, but intentionally, performing with a bliss he hadn’t remembered existed until that moment. It was only when he felt something brush his shoulder that he remembered Eliott was sitting beside him, watching, listening. He also remembered what the song was called. I love you. He hoped Eliott wasn’t too versed in contemporary classical music.

The song was nearing the end, Lucas hadn’t even realized he’d played the whole thing already, so he tapered off, letting his fingers trail the last few notes gently. The silence that filled the room when he finished was charged with energy. He was too scared to look at Eliott, see his reaction to the impromptu concert he had just given.

“C’etait ouf,” Eliott said, voice thick with an emotion Lucas couldn’t place. He couldn’t tell if Eliott was speaking French on purpose or because he was too dumbfounded to find the words in English. Maybe he was impressed, Lucas thought foolishly.

Eliott cleared his throat and spoke again, still in French. “T’es surprenant.”

Lucas couldn’t help it, his head snapped up to meet Eliott’s eyes, stunned by the emotion they held when he looked into them. Eliott’s eyes told him everything he needed to know, and suddenly Lucas didn’t feel so self conscious, didn’t worry about the girl that Eliott was mad for.

Eliott’s eyes flicked down to Lucas’ hands, still resting on the keys. “J’aime bien les gens surprenant.”

Lucas didn’t know what to say to that, so he just held Eliott’s gaze. Something passed between them, something Lucas didn’t have the energy or ability to tell himself meant anything other than what he wanted it to. Before his brain could get too far ahead of itself, Lucas blinked and looked away, breaking contact.

“How did your date go?” he asked, forcing the words out. They tasted bitter on his tongue.

Eliott responded with what sounded like genuine confusion. “My date?”

“Yeah, with your mystery girl. Arthur told me about her, said you won’t shut up about her.” Lucas tried to keep his voice light, teasing. This was how friends talked to each other about who they were dating, right? Eliott didn’t answer right away, so Lucas looked up at him again, trying to gauge what his response would be.

Eliott looked caught between emotions, partially amused, partially confused, and partially afraid. “Arthur told you… and where did Arthur get his information?”

“From you? He said you talk his ear off about some girl in our potions class every night. If you aren’t careful he might try to feed you to Brian.” Was he doing ok at this platonic teasing thing? Or was it coming off weird? Well, they did like weird, he supposed. Lucas was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost missed Eliott’s response.

“Even if I did have a mystery date… who said it would be a girl?”

All the breath went out of Lucas’ body at once, almost as if Eliott had punched him in the stomach. Had he said what Lucas thought he’d said? That couldn’t be right. There was no way…

But maybe there was. Eliott had sat by him in the Great Hall instead of anyone else. Eliott had told him he had supermodel eyes. Eliott had gone where he’d gone, had followed him to make sure he was ok on multiple occasions, had listed the smells of his Amortentia when Lucas had been embarrassed by listing his. Eliott had followed him on Instagram. Eliott had laid on the floor with him and drawn a hundred variations of his patronus just because he wanted Lucas to know he cared.

No, Lucas told his brain, stop it. Just because Eliott had said his mystery date wasn’t necessarily a girl, it didn’t mean it was Lucas. He was just teasing Lucas, seeing how he would react.

He looked up at Eliott and saw Eliott looking back. Lucas took a deep breath, and opened up the windows to his soul, letting Eliott see what was inside and do with it what he pleased. Neither of them were laughing anymore, all traces of humor gone from their faces. Lucas was serious in how he felt, and he wanted to know if Eliott was serious too. Am I the one you talk about at night?

Then Eliott opened up his eyes, his soul, at least a part of it, to Lucas, and the world was destroyed and rebuilt all within that single glance. Lucas saw himself reflected in Eliott’s eyes, but it wasn’t totally him. It was a version of himself that he didn’t realize existed, someone surprising, someone beautiful, someone worth loving. There was no mystery girl in Eliott’s eyes, only Lucas, and Eliott, and Lucas and Eliott.

I think I might kiss him, Lucas thought to himself, I think I might kiss him right here on this piano bench. They were already close, but not close enough. Lucas inched forward, bit by bit, taking much longer than he probably needed to, but still trying to work up the courage. He noticed Eliott was doing the same. He tilted his head up slightly, realizing he would have to do so to reach Eliott’s mouth. The thought was exhilarating to him for no reason at all. He realized then that maybe his life had been leading up to this moment. He had never met a person like Eliott before and he didn’t think that he ever would again. Everything before Eliott had been fake, had been Lucas wanting to live but being too scared. He didn’t think he was scared anymore.

Their noses brushed and Lucas closed his eyes slowly, savoring every moment. Eliott’s hand came to rest on his on top of the piano keys, their lips were so close, not even a breath of air between them. He felt like he could taste Eliott already. It took all of his willpower to not just grab Eliott by the face right there and join their lips, hungry and desperate. Lucas swallowed, jaw clenching slightly. Not afraid, never afraid with Eliott. Their top lips brushed…

“Oh thank goodness you guys are still here!”

They shot apart in an instant; Lucas nearly fell off the piano bench. Their intruder hardly seemed to notice, or care. Daphné was smiling at them, oblivious to everything she had interrupted.

“I left my prefect badge in here, did either of you see it while you were cleaning? Where did that piano come from?” She bent down to search the floor for her missing badge. Eliott hopped up off the piano bench, holding something small out for Daphné to take.

“I found this when I came in, but I didn’t know whose it was,” he offered. Lucas watched as her face went from worried to relieved, though he himself couldn’t feel anything but angry with her. It wasn’t her fault, but still.

“Thank you Eliott! You’re a lifesaver! I can’t imagine, if I would have lost it for real… I’d never live it down. Anyway, what are you two still doing here? You did a great job on cleaning up!” She smiled at the two of them eagerly. To his credit, Eliott smiled back. Lucas couldn’t make his face muscles do anything other than grimace and try not to show that he was hexing Daphné in his head. “I’ll walk out with you,” she finished.

Lucas waited for Eliott to refuse her offer, to tell her that they still had work to do before they left, but he simply nodded and looked to Lucas for confirmation, eyes duller than they had been a moment before. Had Lucas imagined everything after all?

He finally got up from the piano bench and made his way out of the room, trailing a few steps behind Eliott and Daphné, who were engaged in a conversation about the next inter-house unity club meeting. In the entry hall, at the bottom of the stairs Daphné turned to them both with a sad smile.

“I guess I have to leave you, my common room is by the kitchens, you know. Thank you so much for coming to movie night, Lucas, and thanks for helping clean up and finding my badge Eliott. You give inter-house unity a good name.” She kissed them both on the cheek before parting, nearly skipping her way to the Hufflepuff common room.

Lucas didn’t know what to do now that he and Eliott were alone again. “Walk you back to your common room?” Eliott suggested, gesturing a hand to the stairwell.

Lucas laughed, “Our common rooms are right near each other. You’re walking that way anyway.”

Eliott shrugged. “My mystery potions girl didn’t argue when I walked her home earlier,” he said with mock seriousness. Lucas laughed again and shoved Eliott lightly, making him stumble as they started up the stairs. The responding look Eliott gave Lucas almost made up for the fact that Daphné had interrupted them earlier. Almost.

Eliott was so full of light, brighter than the sun. Every look he gave Lucas was unique only to him, a secret the two of them shared. Lucas hoped that Eliott felt the same way, but he didn’t know if anyone, himself included, was physically capable of the rare beauty Eliott exuded and shared just by existing.

“Wait a minute,” Eliott said as they were halfway up their fifth set of stairs. Neither one of them had been moving particularly fast, but they were both a bit out of breath. Eliott steadied himself by placing a hand on Lucas’ shoulder, laughing through breaths. “Who designed this place?”

“Who decided we can’t apparate inside the castle grounds is a better question,” Lucas countered, “We’d get to classes so much faster. Not that I can apparate yet anyway.”

“No?” Eliott asked bewilderedly.

“Uh, no? You have to be seventeen. I don’t turn seventeen until July. Plus, apparition lessons for sixth years don’t start for a month or so.”

“Oh, right,” Eliott said, picking up his pace. Lucas hurried to try to match him, a difficult task on his much shorter legs.

“Are you going to do the apparition lessons?” Lucas asked once he caught up, then cringed internally. “I mean, of course you are, we can’t take the test unless we take the lessons.”

Eliott didn’t look at Lucas as he spoke. “I already have my apparition license.”

“Oh,” Lucas said in surprise, “That’s cool. Were the rules different at Beauxbatons?”

“No. I’m seventeen.”

Lucas waited for Eliott to elaborate, but it became clear after a moment that he wasn't going to. He tried not to feel disappointed. If Eliott didn’t feel like sharing personal details at the moment, he didn’t have to. Lucas changed the subject, joking about whether Harriet would rather murder Eliott for not paying attention in potions than unfollow him on Instagram. The relief was palpable off of Eliott when Lucas changed the subject, and Lucas tried not to worry about why.

Soon, too soon, they stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, the entrance to Lucas’ common room. “Thanks for walking me back, I know it was really out of the way,” Lucas joked.

Eliott smiled, less luminous than before. This smile had a more serious quality to it, almost like Eliott was bracing himself for something. His eyes flicked to the portrait and back to Lucas’ face. “This is where we say goodnight, then.”

“This is where we say goodnight, then,” Lucas repeated.

They stood there for a beat, just looking at one another. Tell me, Lucas urged, tell me now that I’m not making all this up. Tell me that you want this as much as I do. It was Eliott who looked away first. “Goodnight, Lucas.”

“Goodnight, Eliott.”

Eliott walked a few steps before turning back to look at Lucas over his shoulder. Similarly to the other day, Lucas was standing exactly where Eliott had left him. “Thank you,” Eliott said. It wasn’t what Lucas had been expecting, though he didn’t totally know what he had been expecting.

“For what?” He was genuinely curious.

“For showing me your soul. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Eliott answered simply. Lucas blinked in surprise as Eliott turned away once again and didn’t look back. That night Lucas would dream of pianos and Eliott and the universe and everything in between. He would see himself the way Eliott saw him, and he wouldn’t be afraid or ashamed of what he saw.

Then, he would wake up in the morning and forget he had dreamt anything at all.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 

AO3

Weekly Instagram Roundup: Week 1 Week 2

[doctor243]

The Girl Who Cried Wolf Chapter 1

So this is a story concept that I’m still working on, I hope you guys like it!!! Please, give me all sorts of feedback, I’d love it!

Summary: 5 Times MJ says she loves Peter, and 1 time he says it back.

Characters: Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

Peter knew that he had a crush on MJ. Ned knew that Peter had a crush on MJ. Heck, the only person who seemed unaware, was probably MJ herself. And chances were that she knew, because she seemed to catch any and everything that happened around school (and perhaps the world). And also because she was Michelle freaking Jones. She who had figured out Spider-Man’s secret identity all by herself, and then didn’t say anything for a whole 2 months. She who had managed to find inconsistencies in a history textbook and gotten the publisher to fix the errors. MJ was a genius, and that was putting it lightly. And she was also beautiful. With that untamed hair and matching personality, narrowed eyes and a smirk that made anyone question their own worth, she wasn’t hot like a Hollywood star or a supermodel, but she was definitely, undoubtedly, unabashedly beautiful. It was common knowledge that people were either geniuses or lookers – nobody had the best of both worlds, because apparently the universe was fair that way. Well, Michelle Jones had never been one to follow rules.

“Sup Loser,” he heard from behind.

“MJ!” he grinned, turning around and shutting his locker. She was wearing a black jeans jacket that was littered with pins from protests and cool places she’d gone. Some of them were from different countries, and some of them were from kids that she’d taken care of during her monthly visits to homeless shelters, and she kept those in pristine condition. He could observe her for his entire life and always find something about her that intrigued him, and somehow he was content with that knowledge; yeah, he had it bad.

“How was the protest?” He hurriedly asked, falling into step beside her before he was caught staring. He’d wanted to go to that Big Pharma protest with her, but Mr Stark had called him in for a lab day, something about finding chemical applications for the Iron Man suits. She technically hadn’t even told him about it, but since becoming friends, remembering events that she was prone to attend became a lot easier.

“It was good,” she replied, rubbing some sleep from her eyes. “Nothing has changed, obviously, but at least we got our voices heard.”

“I wanted to go too,” he grumbled. “But Mr. Stark called me in to work on some chemical applications for his suits.”

“Well, you are a chem genius,” she rolled her eyes nonchalantly. Oh dear, he was definitely in love with this girl. Head over heels. His heart was hers, signed, sealed and delivered. “Why’d you wanna go anyways?” She continued. “Don’t normal meds have, like, zero effect on your crazy metabolism?”

“I mean, yeah,” he huffed. “That doesn’t make what they’re doing right, y’know?” He hoped to God that he didn’t sound like some self-righteous prick.

“Guys!” Oh thank God for Ned.

“Ned!” He grinned and reached to do their secret handshake. Ned looked worse for the wear, which was saying something because Peter knew that his handsome Filipino friend hadn’t been the one out late web-slinging.

“‘Sup Nerd?” MJ mused, giving him a hug.

“Oh. My. God.” Ned groaned. “I barely got 4 hours of sleep because of that frickin’ history paper.”

“Oh,” Peter laughed. “I finished that on Friday.”

“Well excuuuuuuuse me if I’m not a genius and happened to be busy binging Brooklyn-nine-nine!” He replied indignantly. “And who in their right mind gives people a weekend for 6 pages??”

Peter shook his head. How would he survive high school if Ned hadn’t been his anchor and main source of entertainment? Turning to MJ, he started to ask her something, but stopped when he realised all the colour had drained from her face.

“Um…MJ?” He started carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal. Of course, in a normal situation, he knew that she was anything but, but this didn’t strike him as a normal situation. “You good there?”

“Um…” She seemed to struggle. “I… I might have forgotten to do the essay…”

“What?!” Ned screeched, hands flying to his hair.

“I was busy prepping for the protest okay??” She argued, eyebrows knitted in frustration, probably already formulating a plan to bribe the teacher, commit murder or call in sick.

“But this is 40 per cent of our grade!”

“Gee, thanks for the reminder, Nerd!” Eyebrow raised, she dared him to remind him any more of her own predicament, and God did she look gorgeous under pressure.

“Um…” Peter interceded, hoping to diffuse any further argument. “You can use my outline.”

His 2 friends looked at him in disbelief, but no words were said, triggering his rambling tendencies.

“WELL, I mean I’ve got some extra quotes that I didn’t use, and I know that you’re a genius so you’ll be able to write it so it doesn’t come out as plagiarism. Not that you, of all people, would plagiarise, but I’ve pretty much outlined the arguments and the necessary facts and highlighted the quotes that I used so you can use the others.” He was sure his face resembled that of a lobster, and his hand was nervously scratching his neck. “I know you probably have a back up plan, and don’t need my help, so I’m gonna shut up n-”

“I love you.”

Peter froze. He could faintly see Ned gaping like a fish in the background. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. The usual mirth and humour was missing, replaced by a vulnerability that he’d never seen in her eyes, not that he tended to stare at her eyes a lot (he did). This was the most earnest she’d ever appeared to him, and it was almost disarming not to see the strong-willed calculating person that he’d grown accustomed to and fallen in love with.

“Wh-what?” Nicely done, Parker, very eloquent. Perfect time for the frog in his mouth to jump into his throat. C’mon, man, say something else. “Really?” Well, that was something else, but still, what the hell?

“Dude, don’t get an aneurism, it was a joke.”

And as quickly as he’d seen the look in her eyes, it was gone, the usual snarky MJ returned with full force. The mirth was back and the genius stared back at him, smirk playing on her lips.

“Uh-um. Right. Haha,” he forced out as he grinned through clenched teeth, ignoring the way his heart plummeted into his stomach, like an airplane taking an emergency landing. “Of course! Ha…Ha!” Sometimes he wished she wasn’t such a brilliant actor. Sometimes he wished she wasn’t so good at pushing his buttons. Sometimes he wished she wasn’t so goddamn good at everything.

MJ just rolled her eyes. “Outline? You were saying?”

“Right! Right! Here you go!” Dropping his backpack, he hurriedly reached in, pulled out a few crumpled sheets of paper, before stuffing them in MJ’s hands and rushing off, a speechless Ned on his tail.

“Dude!” He whispered, but Peter refused to look at him in the eyes. He couldn’t stand to be looked at with pity. Ned knew of his affection to MJ, and would undoubtedly be trying to offer sympathy. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” he muttered. “Always.”

Next chapter: Here

Masterlist: Here

Tags (because you make it worth it to keep writing): @you-guys--are-losers @socially-ineptnerd @nerd-of-sorts @dej-okay @kage-e

[minecraftdiarieswho]

CELEBRITY AU || ITS BACK BABEY