#anyways about 10 years later we got married

[reticent-fate]

part 5/26ish

hey who spilled this plot in my otherkin hrt comic?

spoilers: it was me

from the beginning

[lecliss]

In the span of twelve episodes there's an accidental gay kiss between Naruto and Sasuke and Naruto gets all blushy about a boy he mistakes for a pretty girl. What was Kishimoto doing back then?????

[bnhaobservation]

Todoroki family and chap 430

In case it wasn't obvious by now, I was very invested in the Todoroki family storiline and one of the things that sadden me the most about chap 430 is this image.

We've Enji, or maybe I should say Endeavor, Rei is pushing his wheelchair as he goes somewhere, we don't know where, some want to think he's visiting Touya but it's not said and, around him there are 3 men and a woman.

It's not his children, it's his sidekicks and Hawks.

The final chapter doesn't touch what happened to Natsuo and Fuyumi, we've to assume Fuyumi is happy with her work and Natsuo with his marriage.

We don't know if Touya is still alive but, anyway, he's going to die. Even if we assume he died happily he had said smiling was why they lived their lives. He could keep on living out of anger and grudge but not out of smiles and happiness?

Fuyumi has fought for all those years so hard because she wanted back her family and she basically get nothing, not her old family as Natsuo leaves and Touya dies and it's not even hinted she has a new one as it was Natsuo the one who got a girlfriend as soon as he entered university and marries her basically a year and a half later.

Natsuo is just rushedly married to this character of which we don't even know the name. We don't know if, in the end he visited Touya again or not, we don't know if he ever managed to overcome all the anger and pain he felt inside for how his father ruined the family.

Shouto became a Hero, but his mother is not with him to support him but she is with his father. We don't see his siblings around him, cheering for him. We don't know which effect had on him to reconnect with Touya only to lose him. We're only told he became a good Hero so people don't call him anymore Endeavor's son, forgetting people also looked poorly at him for being Dabi's brother. How did he overcome that? Evidently it somehow disappeared as all the first years are already all his fans and even Dai said all the kids wanted to be like Shouto... but, at the end of the day, we aren't shown Shouto having a good moment with his family, his good moments come from being a Hero and being with his friends.

Even if we assume that, despite having to marry Enji out of duty to help her family, Rei had fallen in love with Enji while their family was having a good time before he turned abusive, and now that she had forgiven him and he stopped being abusive she's glad to be back with him... skipping this was very vaguely constructed she lost 10 years in a hospital and we can't see her with her children. She's supposed to be happy being with him with one of her children dead and one of her children keeping away from his father because just being in the same room with him makes him feel bad.

Mind you, I'm not saying Natsuo should forgive Enji or force himself to be with Enji or whatever but having a person that's related to you that makes you to feel bad just by being in the same room with you so that you've to avoid that person, is not something that's good. If Enji and Rei live together and Natsuo wants to visit his mother he has to make sure to do it when his father is somewhere else. In the past Rei was split between taking care of Shouto, who couldn't be with her other children, and taking care of Touya, Fuyumi and Natsuo, with the result Natsuo felt neglected because he was very small when all this happened and needed his mother... but likely she ended up neglecting Fuyumi and Touya too because you can't be in two places at the same time. Now, instead than having to take turns with Shouto, Natsuo have to take turns with Enji.

Ad for Enji... all his atonement for what? He doesn't manage to rebuild a relation with his children, apparently his sidekicks and Hawks have replaced them, they're conveniently of the right number. His children would have gotten where they were even without his atonement because all we hear is about others helping them, he only get the cool sentence, we see nothing of his struggle. But this is also supposed to be a happy ending for him. Who care if he doesn't have his kids? He has his sidekicks and Hawks his newfound family he would have had anyway had he focused on his work only.

The story tried it's hardest to make me think he cared about his family but then I'm supposed to think he's happy not having any of the sort apart for Rei and a new found family.

Horikishi had already established in the previous chapter Enji would have his sidekicks and Hawks' support, I didn't need a reminder of that.

I needed to see THIS image at the end...

...maybe including Natsuo's girlfriend as he could have introduced her to the rest of the family... or him holding his firstborn and letting Rei see her grandchild.

I needed to see Fuyumi finding someone with whom to form a family since she can't have her own back and she wished so badly for it.

I needed to have this being shown to me...

...or at least to see Touya out of that contraption as he died in peace, a smile on his lips since happiness somehow couldn't save him but grudge could.

I needed to be told something that Enji did that HELPED his kids, that made them be better. Not something vague, I need something concrete. Even if they would never be with him, since he's supposed to atone to them, I need him to make something more than just give them a new house and pay for the bills because he'd been paying bills through all his life so that's not new.

I would have been fine with him watching them smile from a distance or hearing from Rei how they were doing and smiling.

Mind you, I'm willing to believe in Horikoshi's mind Enji now is a changed man and very sorry for what he did and loves his family and yadda yadda but there's a reason why we say 'show, don't tell' and so far Horikoshi is more interested in telling than showing.

I get that in his mind Enji is a character more important than Rei, Fuyumi, Natsuo or even Touya, I would have been fine with all that I've mentioned being shown through his perspective because he cares about his family and so he's happy if they're happy.

If, in all that talking Midoriya does about reaching out to others, what he wanted to point out was Enji had continued to reach out to help his family even if they had cut him out of their lives.

But no, the good part is that his sidekicks and Hawks are reaching out for him. Okay, I can take this as the test trying again to point out Enji will never be a Hero, in the end he's not the one reaching out but the one others have to reach out to help but, again, it was established in the past chapter so I didn't need a reminder and it kind of steps all over his arc of trying to reach out for his family.

In the end the most he does is to just take it when they want to yell at him and let them live the live they want... I do think it's a great thing if an abuser were to realize what he had done to his victims and try to atone. It's kind of a miracle turned true... but there's just too little of it in this story.

Maybe I'm missing some deep cultural context, maybe Enji is doing something AMAZING for his family that Horikoshi thought he didn't need to show because it's obvious to Japanese readers but... but I wish he had shown it. Instead the moment Enji finally stop being a Hero and could do something for his family, the manga ends with his family disregating but I'm supposed to see it as a happy ending.

I prefer it had just been called a sad ending. Bad things happen, I can stomach them but honestly "Ano Hana" makes a much better work at portraying grief and atonement and the same goes for "Koe no katachi".

Horikoshi knew he was selling this manga also to foreign readers. I'm not saying he should have made his manga thinking to them but, if this atonement arc was so important, maybe he should have made it more understandable for us as well. This makes the diffference between a national mangaka and an international one.

[melrosing]

got bored made some Lannister ocs

besides Stafford we don’t have names or deaths or anything for Joanna’s other two brothers and her two sisters so since everyone else has ocs I decided I wanted some and it was free real estate ✨ names/ages/personalities under the cut

joanna lannister (247AC - 273AC) guess what i didn't actually make her up but not like we have much detail on her anyway so w/e. eldest child of Jason Lannister & Marla Prester, and just a frustratingly perfect girl (at least as far as Cerella is concerned) who always seems to get her way. has always enjoyed gossip and that becomes an interest in court and politics once she moves to KL at 10 to become one of Queen Rhaella's companions. as a child at the Rock she was best friends with Genna, but it was a complex relationship where Joanna was slightly resentful of Genna's power over her (as Tytos' daughter) and Genna was resentful of Joanna's apparent perfection, and the way she seems to wring an affection out of Tywin where he has none for his siblings. Joanna isn't exactly a mean girl but is well aware of the effect her charisma has on others, and can make you feel like shit by looking straight through you (albeit w a smile on her face) if she doesn't feel you're much worth her time.

stafford lannister (248AC - 299AC) i didn't make him up either but canon says he's a blundering idiot so we'll go w that. Stafford just had the luck to be the firstborn son of a Lannister knight, so he gets wealth and riches with little responsibility to show for it. he's thought of as a bit of a Tytos 2.0 but without his humour or heart of gold. thinks he has a fascinating life but is just rich. tells dreadfully boring stories but never seems to notice the snores. constantly landing himself in shit and waiting to be rescued. that's all there is to say about Stafford.

gerold lannister (249AC - 280AC) yay my first oc. well he's just a bit of a creep really. twin to Cerella, born first of the two. Gerold thinks he's the perfect Lannister specimen (he's more like.... weedy handsome squidward) and figures he ought to have been born in Tywin's place. but somehow he ended up the second son of a fourth son and nothing much is expected of him. he's not much good at anything and noone likes spending any time around him because he's perpetually consumed by bitterness. he's not close to his sister Cerella either, bc he seems to treat her worse than anyone, constantly talking down to her etc and mocking her crush on their cousin Tywin. in his final years, as his other siblings are growing up and moving on w their lives, Gerold remains bitter & stagnant, and no-one cares to see what's up except youngest sibling Loren, who has never been close to his brother but takes pity on him, believes maybe Gerold just likes men (specifically he suspects he likes TYWIN) and Loren is a theatre kid all his friends are gay it's fine. he decides to reach out. except Gerold isn't gay and in a confrontation between the two, Loren discovers that the true object of Gerold's affections is: their sister Cerella!!! who has already been married off to Sumner Crakehall. his secret out, Gerold kills himself shortly after, and Loren never tells anyone what he learnt but is consumed by guilt and disgust for the rest of his days.

cerella crakehall née lannister (249AC - 295AC) younger twin to gerold. Cerella has a cold demeanour but the heart of a romantic. when she was a small child she was in awe of Joanna and followed her everywhere, and Joanna likewise enjoyed Cerella's hero worship and treated her as a mini-me. however, as Joanna blossomed, Cerella felt ugly and awkward by comparison. Joanna only seemed to verify this by gradually ignoring Cerella in favour of Genna, and later in favour of her friends at court it KL. Joanna seems to get everything she wants before she can think to ask for it, whereas people seem to forget Cerella is in the room. and the one thing Cerella has always wanted is Tywin: she thinks they're entirely alike, and she's even modelled herself on him in hope that one day they would make a perfect match. except Joanna gets Tywin too: she has his attention without even seeming to ask for it, and takes him because she can. Cerella thinks she might have got her comeuppance when Jo is sent home from court, after Aerys affections for her become a little too heated. Tywin won't want her now. except he does, and they're betrothed not long after. Cerella, despondent, doesn't argue when she's married off to Lannister bannerman Sumner Crakehall (his second wife), and never returns to the Rock thereafter. she notices Joanna's son training in the yard at Crakehall but wants nothing to do with him; Jaime Lannister will wonder why in all those years his mother's sister never deigns to speak to him.

rowena cary née lannister (255AC - present) her father's favourite (though he dies before she turns six), Rowena looks the spit of her grandmother Rohanne Webber. Jason never knew his mother, and so has highly idealised notions of her (whilst the rest of the Lannisters loathe her for leaving without a trace). he likes the idea that Rowena is Rohanne born again, but wouldn't get away with naming her Rohanne - so names her an approximation. and she's just a fuckin disney princess lol. extremely amiable, not a girl of any great talents but does her best to please everyone. she never sees much of her eldest siblings, who are at court or squiring by the time she's old enough to engage with them, and the twins pay her no particular attention, but the adults around her love indulging her, and she's close to her younger brother Loren. there are no great expectations of Rowena, so despite many great westermen begging her hand, she marries for love to a wealthy merchant of Lannisport. sadly, they're unable to have the children they long for, but enjoy entertaining at their Lannisport manse, and enjoy welcoming nieces and nephews into their home (Tyrion is a regular visitor uwu). w her red hair, people tend to forget she's a Lannister at all, and so does she tbh.

loren lannister (257AC - 297AC) born in what many thought were finally past Marla's childbearing years, Loren is the youngest of Jason's brood. there are no great expectations of Loren, and Loren has none of himself - but in some ways he ends up being the most successful of the bunch, besides Joanna. he likes writing plays, acting in his own plays, and generally getting merry with the folk of Lannisport. the Lannisters of the Rock tend to forget Loren exists because he's seldom there, always in the city instead - till he moves out of the Rock entirely with little fanfare, and uses his inheritance to build a theatre in the middle of town. his plays do well and he's popular with the people, but very much a rich kid cosplaying poor lol. he never marries but has affairs w men and women, and when he hears of a bastard that might be his he throws a load of money their way without checking to see if it's true. Loren enjoys attention and pays close attention to others in turn, but is largely estranged from the Lannisters besides Rowena. after trying and failing to help his estranged brother Gerold, Loren falls into something of a depression for a time, doubting himself and all his instincts - his estrangement from the rest of his family becomes much more definitive as a result. anyway after a fairly prolific career Loren falls from some theatre scaffolding to his death at 40 years old, to the misery of Lannisport and the faint bemusement of the Rock

[theocddiaries]

Bruce: Clark!? Clark! They're gone! They're gone! Clark: ? Bruce: Every picture we've taken for the last seven years is gone! Clark: What are you talking about? You have backups, don't you? Bruce: No, they were on the computer, and now they're gone… Listen, I keep hearing about a cloud. Do we have a cloud? Clark: Just the black one over our heads. Jason [From the other room]: We don't have a cloud! Bruce: Well, can we get one?! We need to buy one right now. Oh, my God, everything is gone… Dick's graduation, Tim's graduation, Dick's birthday, Jason's birthday, Tim's birthday! Damian: Not hearing a lot of Damian… Bruce: Do something besides read, and we'll take your picture. Sorry. I'm just too panicked to coddle you right now. [Dick, Tim and Jason come into the living room]. Dick: Wait… do not tell me the photo where I ran up against the wall and did that perfect flip was on there! It's only the most awesome photo ever taken, and I'll never be able to do it again! Ohh! You really Tim'd this one up, Tim! Tim: Well, it's not my fault, Dick! You know, if we had the original cord that came with the computer… But no! You had to take it up to college. So now Dad has this cheap knock-off Mr. Cord, so when I plugged it into the computer, it said: "this device is not supported by your cord"! Bruce: It's not the cord! It's the computer! [Gasps] Disney World! [To Clark]. I told you we needed a new computer. Yet, the man who knows nothing about computers said this one is fine! Clark: Don't try to blame this on me. I don't even know why we need a damn computer. How many times have I said to print them out, Bruce? Just print them out. Bruce: Gee, that's really helpful right now, Clark. Thanks! I'm gonna be sick… Clark: Look, you only need six pictures in life, anyway… Born, first day of school, first car, married, first kid… Funeral. Jason: What about second kid? Tim: Or third? Clark: Kids look like kids. Bruce [Gasps]: Kids! Where are the kids pictures? Where are the picture from eight years ago and before… Before they all went digital? Damian: You lost those, too?! Bruce: No, no, no, wait. I think I have them in a box somewhere. Like a-a knock-off stride rite box from when you kids were little. Oh, my God, I haven't seen it in forever. We got to find that box! Everybody, just start looking! Clark: Really, Bruce? Are we really gonna do this now? It's Christmas Eve, and you're running around, making yourself a wreck over some pictures. Relax. Nobody's dead. Bruce: Yes, they are! 15-year-old Tim is dead! He's gone, and we'll never set eyes on him again now. And what about 10-year-old Jason, when he was sweet and he liked me? He's gone, too. There were thousands of pictures, Clark… thousands! Clark: Of this family?! Why?! I don't get it. It's like you're trying to archive for some museum that's never gonna be built. Unless you're a president or a serial killer, nobody cares! Bruce: I care! God, if we don't have computer pictures and we don't have picture pictures, we have nothing! Our history is gone! Tim: I can't remember anything without pictures! What did I eat for breakfast today? See? Gone! Bruce: Oh, God, could I have thrown it away when we did that spring cleaning a couple years ago? That would be so typical of me! Other people have a system, and I don't have a system, and now it's gone! Damian: Father, it's not your fault. Bruce: Yes, it is. This whole damn house is just a system failure. That computer has not been backed up for 67 weeks! I just kept hitting, "remind me later." Everything here is "remind me later." We live a "remind me later" life.

[dira333]

Doomed to love you - Kakuzu x Reader

Warning: Angst with a bit of fluff, Dark Themes, no happy end - it's Kakuzu after all...

Words: 4,6k - tagging @snuggleboots, @missalienqueen and @wing-ed-thing because I think you might like it

Bonus points if you get what the Kid's names are all about...

10.

His father’s hand is heavy on Kakuzu’s shoulder.

Across from him, your mother does the same with you. 

You’re shorter than him, your long hair tied into pigtails. There’s the ghost of freckles over your nose, but it could also be the sunlight, broken into a million pieces by the cascading waterfall Takigakure is soon going to be famous for.

You look like a kid, which shouldn’t be that weird. He’s just got ten years old himself.

But everyone at the Academy aims to look older while you seem perfectly fine looking the way you are.

The grip on his shoulder changes, shakes him out of his reverie.

He looks up at his father who stares down at him. Right. Don’t expect any help from the old man.

When he turns toward you, you’ve put your hands in front of your mouth as if to hide a smile. Your mother looks tired.

“Shake hands.” She tells you - or him?

So he does, stretches out his hand for you to take, and watches with almost morbid fascination as you lean down and press your lips to the back of his hand.

By the laws of his and your Clan, you’re married now. 

There are no laws for Divorce in Takigakure yet.

-

Your mother dies a year later.

You move in with him because he’s your husband and has to care for you. His father likes to remind him of that every time there’s not enough food on the table for all three of you. 

A good man, his father declares, makes sure that his wife has enough to eat.

A good father, Kakuzu wants to throw back at him, would make sure his child doesn’t have to go hungry. But he doesn’t. Because while he might not be scared of anything, he’s too smart to get into trouble with the old man. It’s less risky to stay hungry and give his portion to you.

By the time he’s twelve, he’s doing odd jobs on the side whenever he can, handing you the money whenever he’s sure no one can see it. 

You’re a quiet one. He’s too tired to talk most nights anyway, so he’s glad you don’t chew off his ear when it’s time to slip into bed at night.

Ever since his father took up drinking and lost the house, they share a single room and huddle together for warmth at night. 

-

“Kakuzu,” You whisper. His eyes snap open, Kunai ready. It takes him a moment to realize it’s you. You haven’t spoken in so long he’s forgotten the sound of your voice.

“What?”

“Sh.” You move a little closer. Your legs are warm against his. He’s never noticed before how warm you are. “Don’t wake your father. I’ve got a job.”

“A job?” He furrows his brows. “You should still be in school.”

“Like they teach me anything useful.” You quip back at him. “There’s this rich family who’s got a gaggle of kids. I make one hundred ryō an hour looking after them.”

His mouth waters at the number. One hundred ryō could buy him a decent meal every night.

“How many hours are we talking?”

They get to planning. Two days later everything is set in motion. They move out while his father is out drinking, taking with them what little stuff they can find use in. There are no rules that forbid them from signing a lease on an apartment now that he’s a full-fledged Shinobi, even at twelve years old. 

You celebrate your first night with a home-cooked meal, the best he’s ever tasted. Sure the Miso soup could have used a little bit more salt and the fish had been charred at the edges, but there was no one looming over him, taking away all the good pieces, ruining every conversation with drunken rambling.

“I will never be like my father.” He promises and you smile. It lights up your face, and transforms you into a being of light and lightness. 

Kakuzu’s only twelve years old, but he’s seen death and he’s seen misery and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if this is what love is, he will never get tired of it.

-

Kakuzu’s fifteen when he catches an illness that almost kills him.

Painful spasms shake him as he coughs, skin aflame with a fever that wants to devour him whole.

He barely remembers anything but finding himself with his head in your lap, your hands moving through his hair.

There’s a strange lightness to your voice as you talk to him. He can barely focus on your words but they sound like magic, like you’re summoning something from deep inside him.

When he wakes up from a deep slumber days later you look younger, somehow.

“What was that about?” He asks from the safety of his bed. One day, soon, he will buy a new mattress and a proper Couch, but it held out the last three years and he wants to have a bit more saved, feel a bit safer before he starts splurging again.

“What do you mean?” You’re at the stove, cooking something. He can smell ginger and citrus. You’re a terrible liar.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Kakuzu, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t bullshit me!” His temper comes and goes like a lightning strike, leaving him weak and shivering.

You stare back at him, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” He crawls out of bed. “I’m sorry.”

-

Kakuzu is fifteen when he finally understands the terms and conditions of this marriage.

Some Kekkai Genkais let you live longer than others. 

On paper, it could be really just that simple. Your Kekkai Genkai lets you live on for years and years and years, your only threat the darkness of your mind.

“Many of us have killed themselves after they lost their partners.” You explain with his head in your lap again, your hand in his hair.

“Is that what happened to your mother?” You don’t answer his question but he can tell the truth from the way your eyes lose their light.

“But why me?” Kakuzu asks, two days later when you’ve curled up next to him after Dinner. 

“I have two theories,” you explain softly. “Your Clan has brought forward many members with an exceptionally long lifespan.”

“And the other theory?”

“My Kekkai Genkai feeds on negative emotions. Misery. Sickness.” You fall silent. He doesn’t need you to keep going. He knows his family.

His father, who’s still not managed to drink himself to death. Whose temper is so famous that he’s often sent on three-man-missions alone. 

His grandfather, who’s rumored to have killed his first wife over a burnt meal. Who’s still alive because he’s too stubborn to die, living off the roots of the great tree on the edge of Takigakure.

“I’ll never be like my father.” He promises you, again. You press a kiss to the back of his hand like you did when you met for the first time. It’s the only answer you give him. 

-

Kakuzu is eighteen when his comrades make jokes about his wife.

They call her the beauty of Takigakure, say she’s even prettier because she never opens her mouth.

He gets cut from the mission roster for two weeks because he breaks one guys chin, and stabs the other guy in the thigh.

If you mind the blow to your wallet, you don’t show it. You’ve always been good at making a decent meal with the least amount of money spent.

But you sit him down when it happens again, a few months later.

“Stop it,” you tell him. “You’re becoming like your father.”

Fear engulfs him. He feels like he’s drowning, like that time he was six and his father threw him into the big cave, told him to swim or sink. 

Warm lips press onto his, breathe oxygen into his lungs. He holds onto your waist to keep himself from going under once again. 

As long as you’re there, as long as he has you, he will be able to keep afloat.

-

20.

Kakuzu turns twenty just two days before his daughter is born.

She’s got his eyes and your hair, his voice and your eerie stare.

You take one look at her and shake your head, sorrow washing over your features.

“What?” He asks, scared for his life. He’s never seen anything as precious as this little thing in your arms, that’s living and breathing and depending on him. 

“She hasn’t got my Kekkai Genkai.” You say, the words like a knife to his heart.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

The nurse, an old woman that helps with births and the like for a few scraps of meat and a few coins on the side, pats your head.

“What a beautiful healthy thing you’ve got. Cherish it, will you?”

He can see the light dim in your eyes. He makes a promise to himself that even though it might flicker, he will make sure that it does not go out. Ever.

-

Kakuzu likes this little life of his.

He likes waking up to his daughter on his chest, gurgling and garbling, grabbing everything her little hands can get. He likes the sight of you feeding her, how her cheeks are plump and warm, her belly full of milk. He likes seeing you in the village unexpectedly, knowing that the bundle tied to your front is the living, breathing proof that you like him enough, that he might even love you. 

It makes everything seem a little less burdensome. Passing his father in the streets, pretending not to hear the insults. Gong on missions that aren’t paid nearly enough for the danger they bring. The lack of good meat on the market, the hunger of the people in the streets. 

Being able to come home to you, to your soft smiles and his daughters quiet mumbles.

He could live like this, he thinks. Forever, if necessary.

But his daughter is named Fū, after the soft winds that come and go. 

When she’s just two, a sickness falls over the village. You do everything you can but just as the wind does not stay, neither does Fū.

-

Silence has fallen over his home.

Silence has fallen over Takigakure.

There are mornings when he hardly gets out of bed. There’s barely enough money in his pocket to afford the few scraps of meat that are offered at the market. But the beer is cheap.

If he drinks one, he can almost forget the way Fū looked in his arms. If he drinks five, he can almost forget she ever existed.

-

There’s a sharp pain in his left leg.

Kakuzu blinks himself awake and tries to pull away. 

“Stop it.” Your voice is hard and cold.

“What-”

“You stepped into broken glass.” You tell him. “I’m sewing you back together.”

“Don’t.” He mutters meekly. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t-” He stops. He doesn’t know.

“You promised, remember? You wouldn’t become like your father.”

“I’m not-”

“Kakuzu.” You move, your face now above his. You’ve turned younger again. Have you taken all his misery? 

“You should just leave me.”

“I will never, ever leave you.” From you, it sounds more like a threat than a promise. He closes his eyes for a second. Fū blinks back at him. He opens his eyes again.

“What do you want?”

“For you to stop drinking.”

“Granted. What else?”

You falter. “I-”

He sits up and grabs your arms. You’re so close now he can taste your breath. It’s a good thing Fū never got your eyes. There’s a truth in them he will probably never get used to.

“I’ll tell you.” You promise. “Not today. But I will tell you.”

-

He does not touch a drop of alcohol ever again.

Six months later he’s one of the most renowned Shinobi of his village, not that it pays much.

Konoha is a steadily rising threat in the distance but at least the crop is good this year, leaving everyone well fed.

When he returns home from yet another mission, bruised and bloodied, loneliness hanging off him like a second skin, you take his hands and press it to your belly.

“I want to be a mother.” You tell him, eyes alight. “Again and again and again.”

Kakuzu almost shatters at the prospect.

He’s barely survived losing Fū. How can he go through that again?

But he owes you. For keeping him alive. For giving him Fū. For liking him enough.

He watches your belly grow and wishes for a way to know if this one will inherit your Kekkai Genkai or the lack of his.

Two days after his second child kicks for the first time, he’s called to the village leader.

The mission is as simple as it’s deadly. Kill Hashirama Senju. 

He will not survive. He will not see his child grow up. But he will also not have to see it die.

Still, there’s something he can do about this. Milk the opportunities he’s got. 

“What’s in it for me?” He asks, his nose lifted to the sky. “I have a family to feed.”

You’ve never clung to him as tightly as you do the day he leaves.

When you kiss him goodbye he can taste the words you’ll never say.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me behind. I love you.

He bends down and presses a kiss to the swell of your belly.

“Take care of your mother for me.”

-

You must have bewitched him. Cursed him in his sleep.

That’s the only reason he can find why he survives. It had been a suicide mission after all.

He returns home, glad to be alive. He’s stopped at the village entrance, dragged through different caves than those who’d lead him home. To you. To the child that’s about to be born.

Kakuzu misses all of it. 

Instead, he’s sentenced to life in prison. And for what? For not dying on a mission that was meant to kill him?

He’s too proud to beg for forgiveness. But he asks for word on you. 

They refuse him even that.

All that’s left is Fū, who visits him in his sleep. And you, whose voice he can hear in every waking hour. It’s the only thing keeping him from going insane. 

-

The gurgling laughter alerts him.

It’s a sound that doesn’t belong in a prison.

“Shhhh….” A voice whispers. He knows that voice.

He calls your name, desperate to prove to himself that he hasn’t lost his mind.

You step out of the shadows into a lone ray of sunshine breaking through the cave walls. You’ve gotten a little older. Life up there must have been treating you well.

There’s a bundle tied to your front. You step closer, lift the bundle through the bars that have been made to keep out grown men, not a newborn baby.

“Her name is Mito,” you tell him quietly. “She’s got my Kekkai Genkai.”

Mito. To hope, to wish, to desire. It’s a fitting name for the little girl that’s peering up at him. She’s got your eyes, too. 

“I’ve not been a good husband to you.” He tells you. “You should leave me. Find someone who’s a better fit for you.”

His words say one thing. His arms cradling Mito close another.

You reach one hand through the bars, cradle his cheek. 

“I’m bound to you.” You state. “I will go nowhere without you.”

Kakuzu looks down at Mito, how she fits into his arms just as perfectly as Fū did.

“What life can I give you?” He asks the little girl. Her chubby fingers try to grab the marks on his hands. Prison tattoos. 

Your thumb presses against his cheekbone. His eyes flicker up to yours. There’s a determination in them he’s never seen before.

“I’m bound to you.” You repeat. “Not to this village.”

-

Kakuzu feels strangely nostalgic as he leaves the city, four beating hearts and a forbidden Jutsu in his possession.

In a way, it’s just like when you fled his fathers house, took everything with you what you could use. 

This time he’s not holding your hand through it.

This time you’re waiting on the other side of the cave system, the little ox wagon hidden from sight.

Mito sleeps soundly when he arrives, bloodied and proud.

She sleeps through everything. Her parents departure from the only place they ever called home. Her father's transformation through Earth Grudge Fear. 

He briefly wonders if she notices a difference when she looks at him. If his little girl can tell the difference between the man he was before and the man he is now.

Because he can tell that it has changed you.

You grow older outside of Takigakure. There’s not enough Misery to sustain you. One morning he wakes up to crowfeet around your eyes. He finds a grey hair on your head a week later.

It brings a new fear to his life.

And fear brings out demons he didn’t know he carried.

The little house he built for you lies in ruins over a fit of anger.

Mito hides behind you, fear in her eyes that look so much like you. 

He’s breathing hard, doesn’t even know why he flipped in the first place.

You rake a hand through his hair, pull him close until your heads touch.

He can taste your breath, can feel the misery lift off him.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him calmly, “You will leave. Go on a mission. Bring me back a son.”

-

50.

He’s fifty now. 

Mito got married last year. He barely sees her anymore.

There’s a clear distaste in her voice when she speaks to him.

She looks at him like he looked at his father.

Does she promise her husband that she will never be like her father?

Does he believe her?

Because Kakuzu has seen what her temper can do. 

She’s his daughter after all.

Yet, he believes in the power of names. He believes that she can be what she desires.

His youngest daughter is two months old. You named her Rin in his absence.

He’s missed her birth, Han’s too. But he held your hand through Yagura’s birth, pretended not to shatter on the inside when you took one look at the little boy.

“He’s not got the Kekkai Genkai.” 

Still. Yagura might be his favorite child.

He’s a quiet boy. Likes to hide behind Utakata when no one’s looking for him. 

Utakata is his oldest living child, found on that first mission that you sent him on.

“Bring me back a son,” you had said and he’d thought it nonsense until he stumbles over him, starving on the side of the road.

-

Kakuzu doesn’t mind coming home now. He doesn’t mind staying away either.

It’s a fragile thing, this thing between the two of you.

Should he call it love? He doesn’t have anything to compare it to.

He knows you’re never lonely, not with the gaggle of kids that run around your feet all day. He knows you won’t age, not when there’s almost always a kid that cries because it got hurt in one way or another. Not when there’s a growing village nearby, of farmers and their women, with a baker and a monk, all of them looking for someone to tell their sorrows to.

He knows his temper is better left outside his home, directed at people who have the misfortune of crossing him at the wrong time in the wrong place.

Yet he longs to be by your side just as much as you long to have him with you.

He can tell by the way you pull him close when he’s home. How there’s no one allowed to sleep in your bed but him. 

When you kiss him, he feels like everything will turn out all right, eventually.

When you hold him close he can almost forget the way Fū looked the day she died.

When he’s got his arms around you, nose buried in your hair he can pretend he won’t die the day Yagura dies.

-

67.

Long before he turns seventy, Kakuzu understands how you feel.

He still looks barely past thirty. It might be Earth Grudge Fear or a Kekkai Genkai his Clan never bothered to explore, but you and he both have lived too many years on this cruel earth to still be this young.

He’s so tired. 

Mito lost her first child to a famine.

Yagura lost an arm trying to save Utakata from a mob. So what if his son was born in the land of water? That does not take away his right to live!

There will never be an end to this madness, this sorrow.

There will never be an end to your life if you don’t make sure of it.

“Don’t die.” He tells you at night.

“Don’t die.” You tell him when you see him off.

There’s but a thin line separating the two of you from death and it’s the other's presence.

He cannot leave you behind. He will not leave you behind.

If this isn’t love, what is?

-

81.

Kakuzu’s barely over eighty when he meets Pain.

Bright orange hair and eyes as cold and determined as yours.

He pretends he’s not interested. But he is.

He’s long grown impatient of this world. Of its neverending cycle of pain and misery and sorrow. Why must his children die? Why must you suffer to stay alive? Why must he stay away from you to keep you safe yet come back to make sure you keep on living?

Mito barely looks at him now. 

She’s learned by now that she can never outrun his temper. It’s etched into her bones.

Yagura has grown almost silent after the loss of yet another of his siblings.

He’s a grown man, hair turning grey, yet he still crawls into his father's lap when he’s home. 

He wants to go back to the simple days. 

If only he could turn back time. 

If only he could hold Fū one more time. 

-

91.

Hidan trails behind him.

There’s movement in the bushes. 

Hidan reacts immediately, draws his scythe, curses loudly.

“Shut up.” Kakuzu gnarls. His hand shoots out, catches the perpetrator around the neck.

It’s a little girl, Kunai drawn. His mouth turns dry at the sight. Her eyes remind him of his little Rin, never mind the fact that Rin’s already got three kids of her own.

“Let me down!” She screams bloody murder at him. He drops her like she asked for. She runs away with bloody knees.

“Aw, why did you let her get away?” Hidan asks. “I could have sacrificed her.”

“Take grown-ups for that.” He huffs. 

They rest in an inn that night.

Kakuzu thinks of you like he always does when he counts his money. He should check in with you soon, to make sure you’ve got enough for the next months. Winter has been hard this year and you’ve picked up another stray. He got a beetle plush at a fair last month, won it in one of those rare moments when Hidan’s occupied with something stupid. He knows Yagura is going to love it.

“We do offer some special fun if you’re interested.” The innkeeper's grin speaks volumes.

“What do you have in mind?” Kakuzu asks. He’ll kill the guy if he gives him a reason to.

And the guy is stupid enough to do so, dragging a filthy little girl out of the kitchen.

It’s the girl that tried to trap them in the woods earlier, clothes filthy from crawling around the kitchen.

“How much for her?” Kakuzu asks before he can stop himself. The girls' eyes remind him of Fū in this low light. The price is low, telling of the man’s desperation. Or maybe he’s just not a good businessman.

“I’ll take her.” He pays upfront and demands another serving of food, pushing it toward the girl who’s now sitting next to him, trying to crawl into herself. 

“Eat.” He demands roughly. “You’re nothing but skin and bones.”

“I’ll let you have your fun then.” The innkeeper moves backward, a slimy grin distorting his face.

“Hidan,” Kakuzu’s tone lacks any emotion. “Take care of him. But be quiet about it.”

-

They leave the next morning a little richer - dead innkeepers don’t need any live savings - and with a child slowing them down.

“What’s that all about? You a pedophile?” Hidan eyes the kid curiously.

“Shut up.” 

They turn away from the main road.

It’s less than two days over the mountains if they keep moving at this pace. Most of the time he’s got to carry the kid anyway.

“What’s your name?” Hidan asks the first night when they’re sharing a rabbit Kakuzu caught.

“Kushina.” The girl says before directing her eyes at Kakuzu. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Why should I?” He asks roughly. “There’s no meat on you.”

-

A rustling in the bushes gives him away.

Kakuzu stops short, hand outstretched to keep Hidan back.

“Yagura.” He calls. “I’ve already spotted you.”

Yagura steps out with a smile. His hair has turned almost completely grey yet his eyes are that of a child.

“Have you got me a present?” He asks.

“Why would I get you one? You still suck at hiding.”

Yagura just laughs, stills when he spots Kushina.

“Oh! You brought me a friend!” He crouches down in front of the girl, his remaining hand outstretched. “Hi. I’m Yagura. Do you want to meet my Mom? She likes children.”

Kushina looks up at Kakuzu as if asking for directions. He jerks his head, telling her to go.

Yagura whisks her away, never as quick on his feet as when he’s presented with a new sibling.

Hidan’s muttering something behind him.

Right. He shouldn’t have brought him here.

“Listen.” He mutters darkly. “You can turn around and go back to the village we came from. I’m going to meet you there in a week.”

“No way.” Hidan grins. “I want to see what you’ve got hidden in the woods. Some secret family?”

“So what?” Kakuzu gnarls. “If you dare to threaten them-”

Hidan falls silent, face strangely void of any emotion. 

“Fine.” He huffs eventually. “But if you’re late, I’ll leave without you.” He turns back, coat swishing behind him as he moves quickly.

Kakuzu’s not sure what he did to be granted such a favor, but he’s not going to second guess it.

He rarely gets time off as it is.

-

Kushina’s already laughing freely with Yagura by the time he has to leave again.

All those years of misery forgotten in just a few days.

You pull him close, hug him tight.

You barely look older than thirty. 

Most people tell you that life must have treated you well.

Kakuzu knows the truth.

“What’s your next target?” You ask.

“The main one in the land of fire.” He recalls. “The nine tails.”

“That’s the worst one, right?” You ask. There’s something scratching at the back of your throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so tired.” You tell him. “I’m so tired, Kakuzu. I want to go home.”

“I know.”

He kisses you, tries to tell you through touch what he cannot say with words.

I love you. Don’t leave me. I’m with you till the end.

“This is the last one.” You tell him when he pulls away. “You hear me? No more kids. No more missions.”

He nods. “I promise.” He says but he knows just as well as you do that his promises don’t mean much.

“I love you.” You whisper, for the first time in over eighty years.

You’ve never had to say it before.

Later, when it’s much too late for it, he’ll wonder why you said it.

He’ll regret he never said it back.

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

[secretlywritingstories]

I am turning 30 today, which is the first "big" birthday since I turned 18 more than a decade ago.

Objectively, there's nothing special about this birthday compared to the one I had last year or the one I'll have next year. But it turns into something special because we assign meaning to it, and honestly, I can't really be mad about that.

I like that we as humans make all sorts of intricate rituals throughout our lives, like choosing to celebrate birthdays and even making some of them more of a big deal because you're entering a new decade. It's fun if you make it fun.

As a child, I thought someone who was 30 would officially be a Proper Adult. Looking at my own parents as examples, it was the year that they got married after a decade together and they would be having their first child (me!) about a year later. Very adult stuff.

It was supported by the view of society too, where you are meant to find a partner, settle down, get a job and a house, and start trying to have children. Especially that last one if you were born as a girl, since obviously the biological clock starts ticking real loud when you hit the big 3.0.

Thankfully, I don't feel that way anymore. I guess it isn't that surprising when you look at how my life is at the moment. I have never had a long-term partner, and while I wouldn't mind having someone next to me in my life, I also can do okay on my own. I've got the steady job, but I rent my apartment. And children are not really something I can image committing to, and as such I am freed from that particular "universal" stressor.

Oh, and I'm queer both in terms of sexuality and gender. I think that's part of the veering off from the hetero-normative constraints that are thought to be imposed on me by reaching this age. It has been confusing at times, but I am so thankful to know this about myself now.

And I have so much good in my life, even if it doesn't necessarily look how I would have thought it was "supposed" to look like when I reached this age. I have a wonderful family, absolutely incredible friends (a lot for more than a decade and also from all over the world! how lucky can I be?), my horse Moneypenny and the family dogs. I like my job and my colleagues that I have to spend so many hours with. I'm financially stable and able to take care of myself well.

I have written and shared so, so many stories, and coming out at about 4 million words total across them all. And I have so many more stories to tell, even if I don't know what they'll be yet. That's the exciting part!

I don't have a 5 or a 10 year plan. I never really did, so I don't think I'll start now. Who cares anyway? Time will pass no matter what I plan, and life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. So many of the good things in my life has been a string of coincidences that have placed me on this path and I am quite liking the view.

Still, I'll take this chance to celebrate life, on this supposed big birthday. Being happy that I now have three decades on me and know the bulk still lies ahead of me. I'll surround myself with loved ones, have an excuse to connect with people who reach out with birthday wishes, and just spend the day well.

And frankly, I think the 30s are only going to get better than my 20s.

[cutiecusp]

The Birthday Pact.

BF! Keegan Russ x Reader drabble

What happens when a childhood pact you made with your best friend becomes reality?

TW. Best Friend Keegan, marriage pact, light smut, fluff, use of endearment.

Early 90s

"Ew, Keegan. No one spits on their hand to shake on it. It's gross." Ten year old you says to your best friend, grinning in the sun, freckles and ice cream dotted over your faces.

"Do too, makes it stick." Keegan insists, shoving his hand in yours. The feeling of a clammy hand grosses you out, but you shake it anyway, shuddering as you try not to think about why his hand is wet before heading to the swings to play.

"Thirty is a billion years away. We will be so old and so not married to each other." You tease as you swing for the stars.

10 years later

"Key, we've been over this. If you find a girlfriend our pact won't mean much anymore." You laugh as you both get ready for a party, your hair cut shorter than the last time you made the pact, your eyes sparkling with glitter as you apply your lip gloss in the tiny mirror in the car.

"Maybe, but if you are thirty, and I'm thirty, and we aren't seeing anyone else, we are still getting married." Keegan replies, his gruff voice cutting over the radio.

"We made a spit shake, remember?" He teases back. He knew he had to be on deployment soon, but couldn't find the words to tell you how he truly felt, so was happy being your best friend. (For now.)

Present day.

The group of people in the busy restaurant are singing as you blow out the candles on your cake. You were having a small party, surrounded by all of your friends, bar one. Keegan was still on deployment, and while you felt odd celebrating your birthday without him, you were grateful for your friends for cheering you up.

Opening your eyes slowly, taking in your wish, you lock eyes on a familiar face. Surprise flushes over your face as you see your best friend come through the door, still in his tactical vest and combat boots.

Dropping his bag to the floor, he catches you as you fling yourself into his arms. Inhaling your strawberry shampoo, he holds you close for a minute, breathing you in.

"Happy Birthday Doll. I've missed you so much." He says against your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

Brushing his lips against your forehead, he pulls back and looks at you, remembering the girl who loved ice cream in the sun, swinging on the swings until she got sick, drawing unique designs with make up on her face, and he sighs.

"Baby, I know we were kids when we made that promise, but I'm thirty, you are thirty, and I can't pretend anymore. You've been it for me since I was ten. You were the only girl I wanted to kiss, the only girl I ever saw myself with, the only girl that mattered."

You pull on your arms surrounding his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. You could see the love in his eyes, and the faint blush on his cheeks he always got around you.

"Get me a ring, and we will talk about it tomorrow." You say before softly brushing your lips against his.

"Much better than a spit shake." You laugh.

Keegan pulls you in for a deeper kiss, his arms holding you tight.

"See, told you it sticks." He quips back, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Gonna make you mine, doll. White dress and all..."

A/N this was written while I was waiting for the kettle to brew, so hasn't been proofread, wanted to do a little drabble about this prompt, especially with Keegan, hope you like it!?

@misshugs @thevoiceinyourheadx @frudoo @rynbeerose @xoxunhinged @soraya-daydreams @shadowdark00 @enjisbf @muneca-lemon-steppa @yesornowaitidontknow

[jojojoy1]

hi! can you write with prompts 1, 2 and 31 with daniel ricciardo or george russell, like a friends to lovers?

10 years in the making

George Russell x driver!reader

A/N: This is wayyyy longer than I expected it to be. Hope you enjoy :)

You've known George since you were both seven. Karting together. Its always been you and George. It was very rare to see one of you with out the other. You're parents made jokes that you'd marry each other and your response was always the same, "We're just best friends." But when you got older those feelings changed.

15 years old. Racing was getting serious for the both of you, meaning you spent even more time together and competing. It was a dream. That's when you started seeing George in a different light. He was no longer George Russell, your best friend. Now he was George Russell, the boy you fell head over heels for but could never have.

It pained you to have these feelings. He would never feel the same. He saw you like a sister. You were in love with someone you knew would never love you back. So you tried, with everything in you, to forget these feelings.

21 years old. Entering formula one with your best friends. You and George had both signed for Williams. While you were excited to be in F1 and have a friend as your teammate, seeing George non stop wasn't going to help with these feelings. For six years you couldn't rid yourself of this longing and empty feeling.

You'd never dated anyone. George, Lando and Alex always questioned you on your love life and you never had anything to offer. You didn't want to date, you only wanted George. Every time you imagined your future George was the main component. You couldn't count the amount of times you've pictured your first date, first kiss, first anniversary, engagement, wedding, first child. All you wanted was for George to want you like you want him.

You noticed a slight change in George's behaviour in your rookie year. He became more flirty than he ever was. But you didn't want to get your hope up. He now had thousands if girls throwing themselves at him. That's just how he talks to everyone.

When George moved to Mercades you were relived. You loved spending time with George, but it was killing you to have to be with him more than everyone else. Now you had Alex as your teammate.

Alex was always questioning you on your love life. He would bring it up the most around George. He was the most observant over the years. He noticed your longing stares, the way your eyes would light up around George and your immense annoyance when ever George talked about a girl he liked. Alex knew. He knew the minute you fell, but he never spoke to you about it.

Race week, meaning you had to see George. George, who had recently broken up with his girlfriend for no apparent reason.

The five of you, Charles, Lando, George, Alex and yourself, were sat in the drivers hospitality, talking.

"And this is horsey last week. he broke a vase jumping off the shelf." Alex was showing everyone a picture of his cat.

"Is he okay?" Charles asked, concerned about the animals wellbeing.

"A piece of glass got stuck in his paw so we had to take him to the vets to get it removed."

Charles PR manager showed up a little later to usher him to his duties. Lando's manager soon followed. It was just you, Alex and George.

"So you and carmen broke up." Alex turned to George.

"Yeah." George seemed nervous about the topic.

"What happened then?"

"Well, I realised I have feelings for someone else and it'd be unfair to her to waste her time when I love someone else, y'know?"

"Yeah." the room was silent for a moment until Alex spoke again, "Who is she then?"

"What?" George looked terrified, eyes bulging out of his head.

"Who do you have feelings for?"

"It, uh, it doesn't matter." George struggled with his words, wanting to avoid the question, "It's nothing anyway."

"Well, its clearly something if you broke up with carmen 'cause of her."

"I mean, I-"

Before George could continue his sentence all three of your PR managers came to rush you to pre-race media.

The race went okay, you and Alex both scoring points. While you were happy about that, you couldn't stop thinking about George.

Everyone was walking away from the media pen, your eyes caught on Geroge.

"Crushing hard, huh?"

"What!?" You spun around to find Alex with a huge smirk on his face.

"It's obvious you like him."

"Like who?"

"George."

"I, I, wha-, I mean, no." you stumbled over your words, struggling to form a proper sentence.

"You're blushing."

"I'm not." your hands touched your face to be met with your burning skin. Alex laughed lightly at your defensiveness.

"Don't laugh." you were embarrassed to say the least, "How long have you known?"

"Too long."

...

Now knowing for sure of your feelings for George, Alex set out on a little mission. After lots of pestering George, Alex heard the best thing in the world.

"Come on, you always tell me who you like." Alex whined.

"God, you sound like a teenager." George stated, walking away.

"Just tell me." Alex ran in front of him, blocking his exit, "I won't move move until you do." There was a minuet of silence.

"Fine, I'll tell you." George sighed as Alex's face lit up with excitement.

"It's y/n, okay." George whispered, hoping Alex couldn't hear his confession.

"Didn't quite catch that." Alex teased.

"It's y/n! I like, no, I love y/n."

"See, was that so hard."

"Just move."

...

3 months since your conversation with Alex. He was putting his plan into action.

"Lily, where are you taking me?"

Lily said she had an amazing surprise for you, so now you were blindfolded and being dragged to an unknown location.

"You'll see, just be patient."

A salty smell hit you. Sand beneath your feet, dipping from your weight. Seagulls squawking.

"We're here!" Lily sounded so excited.

When she removed your blindfold you were met with the most romantic picnic ever. Candles, rose petals, wicker basket.

"If you wanted to take me on a date all you had to do was ask." you laughed. Lily laughed with you.

"No, this is for you and a special someone." she couldn't stop her excited giggles.

Before you could respond, you noticed Alex in the distance leading a blindfolded George. You were speechless. When they reached the picnic, Alex had the biggest grin on his face.

"We're here." Alex said to George.

"Finally," George sounded relived and slightly annoyed, "We've been walking for ages."

When Alex removed his blindfold you felt your heart beat a hundred times faster, like it was going to jump out of your chest.

When your eyes met it was like every worry or fear you ever had was just gone. Your heart beat slowed. It was like you and George were in your own world. You didn't even notice Lily and Alex leaving.

"Y/n." George whispered after what felt like a life time.

"George."

"So we both got tricked here by Alex?" he smiled

"Yeah." you could barely believe this was happening.

In unison, you both sat down on the checkered, red picnic blanket. Opening the basket, you were met with a beautiful selection of cakes and sandwiches.

You sat for hours just talking. Reminiscing. Realising the years you both wasted, being in love with each other and being to scared to admit it.

"The baskets empty." you stated.

George didn't respond. When you turned to look at him he reached his hand up to caress your cheek softly. without a word, his lips were on yours. In that moment, everything felt right. You fit like two puzzle pieces, you were made for each other.

When you pulled away, foreheads touching still, George spoke the words you longed to hear fall from his lips for the past ten years.

"Y/n y/l/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

With a smile so big it physically hurt, you responded, "Of course, George Russell."

Your lips met again. You were in heaven and never planned to leave.

[zweetpea]

Zhongli x reader The Dragon of Geo (Spicy, no smut)

Summary:

The classic tale of a young lady and a dragon, but with a twist. AU no deities, or Tevat (I’ll still use Liyue and the Qixing just for convenience), no Archons. And I made Shenhe an Adepti because I thought that thematically it fit better. Also female reader.

Notes:

Warning: not for the kiddos! Has foul language and mentions of heat and breeding. And if you want me to write you smut based of the sultry scene feel free to ask.

Feel free to request any genshin ideas

Ao3 version here

Once upon a great beast roamed the sky. His scales, as brown as mud yet they sparkled like crystals. His hair as thick and shiny as gold yet it was softer than silk. His claws as sharp as rocks yet somehow held a gentleness reserved for the mortals of his land. And did he ever love his mortals. Hewent by many names, Rex Lapis, The Great One, Mighty Dragon of Geo, the children often called him Zhongli, but my favorite name for him has always been Morax. Something about it just presented power and authority. To me it screamed “I am your protector! You are mine to love! Though the seasons may change and life caries on for mortals, I will be here to protect you always!”

But those were the foolish wishes of a young girl who knew nothing of the world. A girl who was enchanted by the glimmer told to her as a child to keep her innocent.

He protected us for a millennia, but a century ago he decreed that unless he was given a bride by sunset he would ravage the land. The Qixing gathered everyone together to see if there was anyone who was willing to go. In the end they had to draw up a lottery since no one volunteered. Five years later he demanded another girl. And another after another five years. Some mothers or sisters left instead to protect their family, some had to be carried away screamed and crying. When I was fifteen years old I even witnessed a girl ask that she be escorted there in a carriage with a beautiful white dress. She was convinced that she was going to die and wanted to be pampered and treated like a princess in her last minutes.

I was never convinced that he ate them. I thought that they were a part of his harem and he got bored with them eventually. But it was undignified and unlawful to let a woman marry a man after she had been deflowered, lest she be a widow.

Anyway, it’s now five years later. Liyue is waiting on a letter from one of the four Illuminated Beast. This time 15 years ago Xiao came. He was a beautiful black and teal eagle (A/n: Don’t question the animal forms). 10 years ago Yanfei a lovely salmon pink deer came. 5 years ago an adorable little blue goat named Ganyu arrived with the letter. So this year should be the elegant white crane Shenhe.

Right on time she flys down with the letter in her mouth. I inform her of my name, how I knew her and the other Adepti’s name. “Don’t worry Shenhe, there’s is no need to go back to the others. I’ve been informed that I should wait here until the letter arrives and if it never came I was to return at the end of the day. I am the new bride of the dragon of Geo.”

Well truth be told the reason that I didn’t want to go back to the others was because I had a plan to stop all of this. In the back of my traditional dress I hid a dagger. I’m not much of a fighter but I figured... someone had to try? I guess? I dressed modestly as I figured that he would like it enough to not eat me immediately. If I died in battle I was going to take down Rex Lapis. I don’t need the praise, and I just want my people to live peacefully oblivious lives. In a few centuries this nightmare will become folk lore. A cautionary tale to spook children into being good. It’s finally going to end. I wonder if they’d get most of the details accurate, maybe they’d try to scope out the cave to try and find more details.

We walk out to the middle of the wild and into the mountains. The cave of the beast. Surprisingly it had doors. They’re beautifully sculpted and chiseled with various pattern that made me stop and gape at them in awe.

“This way, young one.” Shenhe motions with her wing. The doors open slowly and I enter the unnatural dark cave.

Once they close lanterns illuminate the corridor and standing before me was a gorgeous woman with long white hair that fades to black at the end, tied in a beautiful braid. “Who...?”

“Right my apologies. It’s still me Shenhe. In the cave myself, Xiao, Ganyu, and Yanfei take on more human characteristics. Come on, we mustn’t keep the master waiting.”

She leads me to the end of the corridor and into a large room. It looks like it had to be a thrown room due to the throne at the far back on top of a short flight of stairs but it feels as if someone could throw a party in here.

“Shenhe. You’ve returned earlier than usual.” A deep voice from behind a burgundy curtain called. His glowing gold eyes peer through the semitransparent cloth. She kneels to him once we reach the bottom of the stairs.

“The mortals came prepared, this time.” She informs the man on the throne. Gold and brown plush pillows surround him as he lay there waiting for his next plaything.

I kneel too to show him that I am as loyal and docile as his servants. “Shenhe you are dismissed.” She exits the room and he rises from his throne and draws back the curtains. “Rise my bride. Rise and look at me.” I do as he commands. I gape with wide eyes at the man before me. Long thick black hair pulled back in a ponytail, he had on a strange white outfit that showed off his chest and yet was like a skirt at the bottom. His arms were black at the shoulder and gradients to a yellow at his hands, I wonder if that was natural or part of his clothes. He starts to descend towards me as I’m standing there like an idiot. He chuckles, his voice even more sultry. “Like a little bunny caught in her predictors sight.” In the blink of an eye he’s behind me, holding my dagger to my throat. His hood most likely fell off as he dashed for me. “You are the only one who has ever tried to kill me. Others have begged or tried to bargain. Some I’ve even fed to Xiao because they only cared about the prestige of becoming my wife.”

“Your eyes... the legends and one own imagination cannot do them justice. I’ve imagined them thousands of times. How could I have hated these beautiful ambers for five years?” I looked up at him as he leaned over me.

“Excuse me? Did you just ignore what I said? Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. Women who try to seduce me are fed to my servants.”

I’m off in lala land and can’t fully register his word. “My father’s probably told me your legend 100 times when I was younger. If you’re going to kill me please let me die with your eyes being the last sight I see.”

“100 times? I could never fathom hearing something 20 times let alone that many.”

“Ironically I am your 20th bride.”

“Do you think that makes you special?”

“That’s for you to decide. Are those horns real?” His horns came up from his head and slanted back then curled back towards the front. I turned around in his hold.

“Yes they are, and they’re vERY—” He cuts himself off as I grab his horn. He groans at the contact dropping my dagger, it clangs as it reaches the ground. “—Sensitive.” He grabs my hips and nearly grinds our waists together. He breathing is heavy as he layers his head on my neck and guides me up the stairs. I almost trip a few times as I have to walk backwards. “If you ever do that again, you won’t be walking for a week.” He pushes me down on his throne. He pins my hands above me.

“Was- was that supposed to be as erotic as you made it sound?” My face feels hot and is undoubtedly red.

He looks at me surprised and then angry. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take you right here, or better yet call in the Adepti to watch as I fuck you dumb on my cock like the whore that you are?”

“Morax, I know that you probably won’t care but I’d like to ask you a question before you deflower me.”

He looks a bit surprised, probably because of the name I called him by. “... this better be good.”

“Why did you ask for a bride?”

“Why? Why?! I don’t have to tell you anything!!”

“Okay. I’m ready.” I say nonchalantly. This caught him off guard.

“Excuse me.”

“You granted me my question, and from the stories I’ve been told Morax keeps his word. You told me you were going to torture the poor Adepti by forcing them to watch us propagate.”

“Do you just believe everything that you’ve been told or read in a book?” His face like the fabled Jueyun Chili’s.

“I was actually also wondering about those stories. But you’ve only permitted me with one question, so I guess I’ll never know.”

“If you were so curious about me why’d you try to kill me?” He lets me sit up.

“I mean, you are quite well known for your brides going missing and never coming back. It would be stupid not to have some kind of protection, whether or not it would work is a whole different argument. I figured that if for some reason I changed my mind I should still have some protection.”

He smirks at me. “I don’t think that’s you wanting to kill me is the truth. Not anymore at least. You wanted to convince yourself that you would be the hero. But what you really wanted was answers. Answers to the questions that you’ve been tossing and turning in your sleep about. I can see it in your eyes. The was they sparkled when you went to grab my horns. The way you looked over my body as I came closer to you just a few minutes ago. The way you were ready to use your last boon on something that should be so innocent, just so that you could get the answers that were just eating you alive.”

Could he really read you like an open book? One with the letter printed big and bold? “Okay, you forced me to face a truth I really didn’t want to confront. What does this mean now? You know that I won’t try to kill you, you know that I don’t want your power, and you know that I’m not gonna beg for my life or try to bargain for the sake of Liyue. So what will you do now?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone who’s interested in history and my stories stumble into my life. I’d like to keep you around for now.”

“What happens when you don’t want me anymore?” He walks back to where he dropped my dagger and comes back with it. He makes a slit on his palm and smeared the golden blood on my forehead in a single line.

“I make this contract to you that should I get bored of you that you may leave this place and never return. Once you wash off my blood the contract with solidify.”

(A/n: just go with it)

“Well what happens if you take my virginity then get bored of me? It wouldn’t be proper for me to marry another.”

He makes another slit on his palm as the first healed already. Then drags another line across my forehead. “If I am to take you, let our first contract become null and void and I will make you my wife.”

“Does this mean that I may ask you anything that I want?” My eyes widened probably sparkling.

He chuckles. “How about you go explore while I um... ahem, straighten up.” He gestures to the tent in his pants.

I blush and look away. “Right! So Um, bye!” I run from the room to the door on the left of the main entrance to the throne room.

<><;><><>

I didn’t see him again until dusk that same day. I got well acquainted with the rest of the rest of the adepti in their human forms. I also found water to wash off his blood. He found me wandering around and brought me to a bedroom.

“This will be your room. Mine is just across the way if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. This is my only article of clothing and if we were in the same room then I’d be too overwhelmed by that little body of you little bunny to resist.”

“Um, will I have more than one piece of clothing?”

“I’ve already asked Shenhe to get your clothes from your father. I believe that some of the other citizens have given you presents as well. Something about this being a change for the better.”

“They probably think that if I’m moving my clothes here that you’ve accepted me and won’t seek another bride at least for a few decades.”

“By then who knows what invention they will make to stop me. I might be done for.”

“I don’t think so. You’re the oldest documented creature in the world!”

“And yet you still wonder why I want a bride.”

“Your lonely?” He goes into his own room and closes and locks the door. “But what about the Adepti!”

“Good night bunny.” He says through the door.

“That not my name!” I shout my name to him.

<><;><><>

3rd person POV

When Shenhe reached Liyue she was confused about the what the people were doing. Most were celebrating. But there was a lone man in the background shaking and trying to stay calm. When she arrived the celebration stopped dead in its tracks and everyone looked panicked.

“Where is the new brides father?” No one new who she was talking about so she informed them that a new bride had offered herself up. The brides father steps up to Shenhe and asked what happened to his daughter. She asks for your clothes and tells everyone that the girl was alive and well.

After that everyone ran back to their homes and grabbed something nice to give her for the new bride. They all tagged the gifts so the bride knew, who gave her what.

<><;><><>

1st person POV

I found the gifts in my room. Very pleasant silk clothes and finely made hair pins, combs and brushes. A few even sent toys. ‘Wait, they think...’ I thought as my face heated up. ‘No, no. Get those disgusting perverted thoughts out of your head girl! He’s just keeping you around for entertainment!’

<><;><><>

The next day at breakfast I started asking him questions.

“So if you only fed a few to Xiao what happened to the rest?”

“Well I either got tired of their nonsense and killed them or they ate a Jueyun chili and died. The ones I fed to Xiao I turned into mice first. And the rest of them who left behind bodies were buried.”

“They’re real? Jueyun Chili’s I mean.”

“Of course.”

“Are they really as hot as a thousand fires?”

“Oh no, it’s more like ten thousand.” He chuckles.

“Are you making fun of me? I really am curious!”

“I know. You’re just too cute Little Bunny.” He smirks. “They are spicy enough to kill a mortal with a single bite. Even the smallest nibble would kill a fragile soul.”

“Are you going to set a limit to how many questions I get to ask you per day?”

“Why would I do that? That would just restrict my fun!”

“I just don’t want to make you annoyed.”

“You are very interested Little Bunny.” He chuckles again, as I blush.

“Are your arms... naturally like that?”

“Yes.

...it’s how I look because I my dragon form.”

“Right, Shenhe mentioned that in this cave you all transformed into human like beings. Why is that? What is it about this cave that allows you to transform.”

“I was the only one able to shape shift. They all longed to have the ability to have a human form. I carved these halls and cast a spell over this place that allows them to transform into whatever human form they desire.”

“I’m happy for them!”

“As am I.”

<><;><><>

After a four months I was still living with them and it was reaching near my birthday.

“Hello Morax! Do you want to know why today is so special for me!”

“I’ll bite, why?”

“I’m 21 today! It’s my birthday!”

“Birthday?” He looks confused.

“Well yeah! Mortals have this tradition called a birthday where we celebrate the day that we were born and how many years we’ve been alive!”

“Well good Birthday to you then.”

“Silly! Mortals say happy birthday and whoever is having the birthday receives presents. So can yours be you telling me stories from the millennia that you protected Liyue? Please?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “You are certainly interesting. You can ask for anything and you ask for that?”

“I wasn’t sure that if I asked any other day that you would tell me stories.” I look down in embarrassing.

He pulls me onto his lap as he sits on his throne. “I’ll tell you anything that you want if you tell me what else you want for your birthday.”

“Um, well I guess... the only other thing that I’d want is to maybe go outside. Only for an hour or two. It’s just, I haven’t been out since I moved in and I’d like some natural sunlight.”

“I’ll do you one better. As long as myself or one of the Adepti are with you, you can go out anytime.”

“Really?” My eyes shine brightly. He nods. “Thank you so much!” I squeal and hug him, as well as giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want to go now?”

“Just let me hug you a little longer.” I request a bit embarrassed.

<><;><><>

It’s getting close to a year now and I’ve noticed that Morax seems withdrawn from me.

“Hey. Morax? Rex Lapis? Zhongli? Are you okay?” I knock on his door and don’t get a reply. Xiao is walking past when he decides to pull me away from his masters room. “Hey what was that for?”

“You’ve made it farther than most. Except for one. Guizhong, the first bride.”

“What happened to her?”

“The legends you’ve been told are wrong. Guizhong offered herself to the master. She was much like you. Curious, fearless, trusting but not naive, but the biggest difference is that she could tell him to back off. You just let him tease you like a masochist.”

“Okay so why isn’t she here?”

“He had never had a lover before, he was possessive over her. And as time went on she started to hate him. And she flung herself off of the balcony in his room.”

“Oh my goodness, poor Morax.”

“On top of all of that she was his first love.”

“Xiao please, help me get in there! I want to let him know that I won’t leave him! That I want to stay with him!”

“Luckily I have the only other key to the masters room. I have to warn you though, he’ll be in his dragon form but it’ll be only a tenth his true forms size.” He unlocks the door and I rush in to the lavish room. It’s the most beautiful room in his palace. He lays motionless in his dragon form. Around his bed. In this form he huge. 50 feet long, brown scales, gold locks and curly horns. The legends really don’t do his majestic beauty justice.

I rush to his side and hug his head in my arms. He’s very thick though so I can’t get my hands all the way around. “I’m here, and I’m not going to leave you. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

He lets out a small roar, something akin to a whimper.

<><;><><>

I’m in my fifth year staying with Morax, and I’m madly in love with him.

On this wonderful day all of the Adepti are running around the hall in a panic.

“Ganyu what’s going on?”

“Well um... maybe you should stay in your room for a few days to about a week... and lock the door... and hide if someone tries to come in.”

“Ganyu, where is Morax?”

“Please for your own safety stay away from the master this week.”

“But-” before I could ask her anymore questions she rushed off. ‘Morax what are you hiding?’ I thought. I know that it’s rude to go into someone’s room without their permission but I am supposed to be his bride so surely an exception can be made just this once.

I slip through the door and the room is almost pitch black save for a few candles. His balcony door is closed and his curtains are drawn. I hear rustling around the room and feel arms snake around my waist. “What are you doing here, my cute little bunny?” Morax’s voice sounds strained, and yet hungry. Husky and low and so sultry. As he spoke that into my ear his hot breath hitting the shell I almost melted right there.

“Morax? What’s going on?”

“Seems there are stories that even my little scholar doesn’t know. Once every 100 years or so I go into heat, it’s a time period called breeding season. You seem so ravenous right now.” He groans in my ear and suddenly I feel my underwear becoming damp. “Don’t you know how rude it is to enter someone’s room without knocking? I think that you need to be punished.”

A small squeak was all I could muster as he threw me over his shoulder and walked me over to his bed. He dropped me down onto it and made quick work in getting rid of my clothes, leaving me in only my underwear.

“Naughty little thing aren’t you.” He teased as he felt my slit through my underwear.

“Morax, please. Stop teasing me, and just fuck me.” I whimper.

“Eager are we?” He smirks.

“I really love you and I want this. Please, let me help you. I want to help you, I want you!”

He blushes at my confession and gently smiles at me. “Whatever my love wants, she will get.”

<><;><><>

“Do you think that I’m pregnant?”

“I’m not sure. I fucked you good though.” He teased.

“Yeah and I can’t feel my legs.” I deadpan.

“What a shame. Looks like you can’t leave then.” He snuggles closer to me as the week of his breeding period is over.

“I love you.” I tell him.

“I know you’ve practically chanted it this entire week.”

“Well you better get used to it because you promised to marry me if we had sex.”

“I’ve known for a while now that I wanted to marry you.”

“Does that mean that I can touch your horns whenever I want?”

“Didn’t you get enough of that this week?”

“I like your horns, I find them very cute and so smooth.” I smile as he flushes red.

“Given the chance to become immortal and live with me forever, would you take it?”

“Staying young with you forever? Yes please, where do I get this immortality?”

“The Valberry. A single bite will give you keep you young forever and you will get to be with me, forever.”

“Really? Screw til death do us part! I want you to myself forever!”

<><;><><>

“Do you Rex Lapis, The Great One, Mighty Dragon of Geo, Zhongli, Morax, take this woman to be your wife for eternity?” Yanfei asks.

“I do.”

“And do you-”

“I do!”

“She doesn’t even need to think about it, that’s what I like to hear! I now pronounce you husband and wife.” We embrace is a long loving kiss.

All of Liyue cheers at the sight of their protector finally being satisfied.

After the wedding we went back to the palace and Morax lays me down on our bed and crawls on top of me.

“I hope you’re ready for me to fuck a baby into you.” He licks his lips with his long dragon tongue.

“We don’t have to rush anything we’ve got all this time in the world.” I smirk at him.

“I am your protector. You are mine to love. Though the seasons may change and life caries on for mortals, I will be here to protect you always. I love you bunny.”

“I love you too Morax.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I canceled my wedding or at least change the plans I already agreed to?

So I (26M) got engage to my boyfriend (28M), we’ll call him John, about 4 weeks ago. We’ve been together for the past 5 years.

To provide some context, John and I come from different backgrounds, he grew up in a upper middle class urban and very progressive family, I come from a middle class/lower middle class rural family. I have one twin brother (26M) and one sister (17F) and my mom and dad. They all are very involved in the local community and their church and basically everyone in my family is very religious (but my sister). I always was a good student growing up, so naturally about 9-10 years ago, I left my hometown and move to the big city about 4h away to study. I have been out to my family for about 3-4 years now, and while I wouldn’t say they are supportive, they are not homophobic either. Mostly we don’t talk about it and just pretend like there’s nothing. I’m pretty happy with this situation because I know of so many people who were just rejected by their family, so I feel lucky they are still here for me.

So anyway, back to the wedding, John really wants to have a big wedding where we would invite everyone in our families and friends, just like his siblings had (he has 5 brothers and 2 sisters) and since I’ve been to 2 of his brother’s weddings and enjoyed them a lot, I agreed that this is the kind of wedding I wanted.

Then I called my mom to tell her about the engagement and the wedding, but she told me that, she doesn’t want to be rude, she’s truly happy and proud of me, but that her, my dad, brother and sister wouldn’t attend because that would be too much for them. (I also suspect that they’re afraid that people in my hometown will learn about it and start talking). My sister later reached out to tell me she was saving her allowance so she could come.

I told John about the decision of my family not to come to the wedding and he gave me the look (queer/lgbt people out there, you know THAT look) and was visibly upset. Later we went to play soccer with 2 of his brothers (that I’ve actually known for longer than John) and we talked about it. I explained that I was kind of bummed out to have to do all the wedding stuff without my family (especially my bro) like choosing the tuxedo etc. of course they both gave me the look, then they told me it was non sense that I wasn’t gonna do it alone, and that they would do it with me, because after all after all these years I was like one of the brothers. Later that day also, john’s dad called to tell me how sorry he was, and that I he would also do all the wedding stuff with me and the brothers, and that John would rather have his mom with him for that anyway. That was really sweet of them and I thanked them all (and kind of agreed to it?).

Last weekend, we were discussing the guest list for the wedding with John, (we won’t get married before next summer but apparently you gotta do these things super early), and John told me he already told his whole family (that’s like 45 people) and his childhood friends (around 30 people) and they were super excited to meet me (for those I don’t know). This is the moment I became very uncomfortable about the wedding, because I’m gonna have like 10-15 people with the +1, all friends that I made as an adult and no one from my family or my childhood. I also realized that I was gonna spend my wedding day getting the look from EVERYONE we know and this is just not something that I want.

Now I’m thinking of canceling the wedding because I know this is gonna be a terrible day for me, but since I know John really wants to get married and I sort of already agreed to the big wedding plan, he talked to everyone about it and I don’t know if I can ask him to scale it down to like 10 people and close family only? So WIBTA if I canceled my wedding or change the plans after agreeing to it?

PS1: I know the real AH are my family in this situation, but this is not something I can control so pointing that out is useless. I want to know would I be an AH if I did something within my control and how can I not be one. And just fyi, they are great people, not progressive for sure, but they are trying the best they know how and for that they deserve more respect than hate.

PS2: I know my sister told me she would be here, but if my parents aren’t coming, I’d rather she doesn’t come because I’m afraid this is gonna create so many problems for her and my parents. Of course, if I feel like she’s gonna show up anyway, I’ll pay for her trip expenses, she’s still a child.

PS3: No I haven’t talk to John about the look and how I feel because I know it’s gonna ruin the day for him, and that he will try to fix it and find a solution to a problem that doesn’t really have one. He’s sweet but he would be useless in this situation. And I love him enough that if necessary I’ll go through with the original plan so that he can have this day to remember.

What are these acronyms?

[hwaseonghwasworld]

Best friends brother chapter 10 LAST PART: I Always Come Prepared

Summary: Yunho doesn’t want his baby sister (Y/n) dating any of his friends especially Mingi since they are like brothers to him and it’s an issue when all Y/n’s friends are dating Yunho’s friends but he wouldn’t let Y/n talk to any guys since he’s so overprotective, it’s such a shame that she’s been with Mingi for almost 2 years and no one knows. What will happen if Yunho finds out?

Song Mingi x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut, fights

Word count: 1k

Genre: series, angst, comedy, fluff, hidden relationship, High school au

Updates: probably Friday at 10pm BST

“Mingi we should go to Kang Daniel’s fan sign” Mingi sigh eyed me saying “why do you like him so much?” I hit his arm a little “what do you mean his voice is so angelic and his dancing” I was blushing just saying those and he rolled his eyes.

“Can we go pleaseeeeee” “fine” “why do you want me to come anyway” I looked at him and told him “for comfort” “and you know I don’t like going places alone” he nodded then I jump onto him kissing his cheeks.

A couple year later me and Mingi live together in an apartment in Seoul but Mingi is a Kpop idol with his friends while I go to Yonsei University, and I study interior design. Mingi proposed to you recently since you two have been together for 7 years.

You were about to go to uni and since Mingi has to be up early as well so you both ended up waking up at the same time, as soon as you both get ready you kiss Mingi goodbye after dropping him off to the company’s and driving to my university, I made new friends in uni since my friends are also kpop idols so they don’t go here.

“Y/n that dress that you made in class is so beautiful” I smile and thanked her, we went into class and I got a text from Mingi, I smile and texted him back.

“You’re having a wedding?” “Yeah me and Min- my boyfriend have been together for 7 years” “and you didn’t invite us?” I never told them that I was dating a kpop idol since I felt like there was no need, my graduation is soon anyway and my wedding is a month after, but since I’ve known my friends for 4 years I guess it’s best to just let them come “of course you guys are invited, we haven’t really sorted out the guest arrangements yet anyway” “ok so like when is it” I told them where and when it is, and said how they wouldn’t bring anyone I don’t know but they can bring a date, since I didn’t want people to know that I’m married to an idol yet since the groups dating ban hasn’t ended yet even though almost all the members are in a relationship.

“So why doesn’t he go here” I looked at them trying to find something to say “he works” “ohh ok” “oh yeah Y/n did you see ATEEZ’s new comeback.” “No I don’t really listen to them” she showed ma a picture of the 8 boys and I kept my eyes on Mingi “so whose your bias?” “Wait she looks like a Yunho bias” “yeah they look the same too” I looked at them shocked and disgusted, I did not want them to say that even if they don’t know about me and Yunho being siblings, “my bias is Mingi actually”

“Really?, my bias is Hongjoong” I looked at them and nodded as they were fangirling over each member “I really wish I could marry Mingi, he’s literally husband material” I nodded agreeing with them since it’s true, Mingi is husband material.

After school I decided to go grocery shopping, while I was searching for stuff someone back hugged me and I turn around seeing the man with a mask and a hat covering his eyes, I knew it was Mingi and I hugged him putting my head on his chest smelling his scent. “What are you going here, what if someone sees you” he smiled giving me a hat and mask so it seems less suspicious “I always come prepared princess” I smile as he helped me hold the basket.

When we were about to pay and Mingi could see that the woman could recognize him, he put his head down so she couldn’t see his eyes. We walked out and went into the car, “I think the lady saw me” I looked at him shocked “wait really” “Yh but I don’t think she realized who I am I nodded hoping he doesn’t get a scandal.

Once we walked into our apartment and ATEEZ and (G)-idle were here I was shocked to see them since I thought they were busy, I hugged them, they had another member called soojin and she was so nice she hugged me and smiled at me wanting to know about the wedding, “so how when’s the wedding?” I looked and Mingi and smiled then back at soojin, “it’s in 3 months”

A couple months later it was the wedding ceremony, i was taking pictures and as my friends from my uni saw me with Mingi walking up to me and kissing me, getting ready to take pictures with him. “Wait … Mingi IS YOUR HUSBAND!” I looked at them in shock as my brother answered them still lowkey not wanting us to be together “yup” “I don’t even know why my sister chose my best friend, but it is what it is” the girls were just flabbergasted, they didn’t know how to react. “Ok so let me get this straight, you’re getting married to a kpop idol, your brother is a kpop idol, and your friend are kpop idols too” “yes” I answered as they stood there in utter shock “THATS SO COOL” I laughed a little as we took pictures to and they go to the main venue.

While I was walking down the isle so me and Mingi could finally get married my friends looked at me excited as they were quietly rooting me on, I turned to look at Mingi and he kept looking at me the whole time, as soon as we finally got to kiss people cheered us on as Mingi pulled me closer and wrapping his arms around my waist while I cupped his cheeks as we pulled into a soft passionate kiss.

💖

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Taglist: @scarfac3 @huachengsbestie01 @tunaasan

Side note: I apologize if this seemed rushed I’ve been pretty busy with my exams which is the reason why the time is so messy and also because of the writers block but i will try and have better timing with the next ff and try and make it longer

Thank you for reading this ff💖

[nrilliree]

https://www.tumblr.com/miss-dollette/751777149185376256/wake-up-call-for-ballistic-team-black-and-rhaenyra?source=share

Why the fuck put that in the Daemyra tag ?

Plus, we love seeing them bring out the same bullshit that we've already contradicted a billion times.

Also, I don't understand their obsession with saying that Rhaenyra got herself into trouble for her marriage under the pretext that she could marry whoever she wanted ?

Precisely she could marry whoever she wanted, and she didn't find anyone she wanted. Namely someone she could love and co-run with. She doesn't just choose a husband but a future king.

Like, we blame her for not finding someone she likes (as if that's can be controlling...) to one of the countless idiots we've seen parade around ? WTF ?

Also, let's be realistic, the only person Rhaenyra wanted to marry is also the only one Viserys will never leave her, namely Daemon.

Plus, if I remember correctly, this situation wasn't so much about giving Rhaenyra a choice to marry whoever she wants, but about making her feel like she had a choice so that she would finally get married.

Literally Viserys had a discussion about it with Alicent !

To get Rhaenyra to marry the way Viserys wanted, he had to make Rhaenyra feel like she had a choice. So it was just the illusion of a choice from the start.

Additionally, Viserys literally choose Laenor in order to right his own mistake with the Velaryons, so a selfish behavior. He simply took the opportunity of having discovered Daemyra's escapade because of Otto to finally impose on Rhaenyra a marriage that would suit him.

Like... these people are blaming Rhaenyra for following her feelings for Daemon ? Oh yeah, she's such a spoiled brat for that.

Because it's such a spoiled person's behavior to want to be with the person you love !

I'm not even going to bother with the false mention of Daemon being a pedophile yet...

Besides, Daemon, so hungry for the throne, never really does anything to get it ? Whether it's in Fire and Blood or HOTD, the statement that he's so hungry for the throne makes me laugh. Is thinking too hard for these people ?

And sorry, but no, Daemon wouldn't have touched the Greens kids if it hadn't been for the usurpation.

He literally never had any threatening behavior towards them. He never showed the slightest interest in them, even negative. He is literally content to ignore their existence.

The fact that Daemon is ready to kill the Greens after the usurpation is not proof that he would have done it before (and I'm talking about the show). At that point the Greens have to kill Viserys for him, in addition to usurping his wife and causing the loss of his unborn daughter. And he suspects that soon they will come for them. You surprise me that he wants to get rid of it after all this mess !

The only children we see being threatened with their lives in danger throughout the show are literally the Velaryon children from the Greens. In addition, we also have proof that for the usurpation, they would have killed Rhaenyra and her family. They would have been killed if they had stayed after dinner in episode 8 ! And what's more, they wanted to take Daemyra's sons hostage !

Anyway, the only reason this argument exists is because... Otto says it. That's all.

Other than that, there's no indication that Daemyra would harm Alicent's children, you have to stop the bullshit after a while.

Everything proves that Greens are the aggressors for Blacks children. Not the opposite.

Tired of this bullshit.

Oh and this person is visibly neutral which... amounts to being a green no for me anyway.

Because such people want to attract attention so that later they can cry "TB they come uninvited and are rude :( :((".

Rhaenyra didn't want to marry a 10-year-old, or an 80-year-old, or a sexist Lannister who would force her to give up the throne to Aegon? What a spoiled, horrible brat! It's all her fault! Because you understand - her forced marriage to Laenor is her fault and she is not a victim. But Alicent and her forced marriage to Viserys, whom she visited alone in his chambers for half a year without saying a word that her father told her to, is a complete victim of the marriage. Not like Rhaenyra. Neither does Laenor. NO. Only Alicent is THE victim. Besides, I bet that if Rhaenyra had chosen Harvin, for example, she would have been advised against it so they could use her to fix Viserys' mess.

My favorite argument is always "Daemon doesn't want Rhaenyra, he just wants the throne." So why did he show interest in her when HE was the heir, not her :D?

And if Daemon and Rhaenyra wanted Alicent's children to be dead, they would be dead. They would meet with accidents over the years, because if Daemon could organize B&C, he could do this too. But he didn't. Because it was the TGs who had a plan to murder Rhaenyra and her family. Not the other way around.

[youremyheaven]

U GUYYYSSS storytime:

So I got talking to a guy a little while ago and we vibed realllyyy well. He's lowkey the textbook definition of everything I'm looking for in a guy. He's 6'2, well to do (not rich but does veryyyy well for himself), BULKY BROAD SHOULDERED, Venusian etc

The synastry of our charts is insane 🥵 He had Mercury atmakaraka (remember my Mercury DK?? 😌)

He has a Venus Moon and stellium and he's the most Venusian guy I've ever met,,, he LOVES beauty, art, the female form etc and appreciates it. The way he spoke about it was so hot to me ngl,,, mf was so poetic,, he really knew how to speak sensually without ever being creepy or vulgar

His Mercury AK was in Purvabhadrapada and he had a puppy like softie Jupiter guy personality. I loved the fact that he looked like a WWE boxer (bulky af 🥵) but had the personality of a golden retriever. LITERALLY ALL MY DREAMS seemed to be coming true.

I knew his birthday but not his rising sign. Yk what they say about "if something's too good to be true, then it is" ??? yeah, i just couldn't brush off the feeling that something wasn't right. But I couldn't straightaway ask for his birth time, esp since he's Hindu and will know what's up 🤭😂 ANYWAAAYYYS we're talking and everything and this man is love bombing me HARD and I know it because:

a) I'm a retired love bomber myself

b) This is not my first rodeo

and anyways this 🧔🏻 is talking marriage and babies, he's calling me wifey 😭 (kinda cringe bc he's known me for dayyys but good lord handsome men can get away with anything 😤) and he refers to himself as "husband" 😭😭😭 like "husband's proud of you" and "your husband doesn't want you to apologise" 😭 (ew but he's hot 👉🏻👈🏻) and I let myself have my delulu moment and try to give him the benefit of the doubt bc literally he checks every box 🥹and he's soooo completely fond of me. We used to run in the same circles like 10yrs ago, even though I had no idea who he was and never interacted with him then, he told me that he remembered me from back then and thought I was cute 🥺 and later I took a looooong break from social media and he told me he'd wondered where I was all those years 🥹🥹and then I apparently showed up in his "suggested for you" on IG a few months ago and he instantly recognised me and followed me etc 🥺🥹 he's been tryna hmu for monthsssss now but I was with my ex 🤡and then I was recovering from my ex 🤧 so I didn't pay much attention to it. When he told me all this, it kinda made me melt 🫠 how he kept trying to talk to me even though I repeatedly ignored him etc

And he did everything right. I could text him rn and he'd reply in 5 seconds. He always asked me how I was, remembered things, always sent me like 20 different messages until I replied, showered me in compliments (Venusian men love to pour you with their attention, it can even be annoying lmfao) etc like there was nothing in his behaviour, his tone or his words that was giving me 🚩 he genuinely seemed sweet, caring etc and he loved babies 😩 and sent me videos with his nieces and nephews (man's was manipulator pro max) but YK ME 🤪 when I have a gut feeling ☝🏻 I can't ignore it 🤓 so I was very much waiting for the ball to drop and watch him fuck up somehow 💀 initially I felt sooo overwhelmed by all his love (bombing) that I felt like the bad guy for not reciprocating it or feeling that kind of "love at first sight" thing 🤡 BUT

one day he said "I can't believe I found you after 10 years, that means no matter where you are after another 10 yrs, I'll find you then as well" and I was like 🤨 I thought you wanted to marry me and make me your trophy wife 🧐 huh 👀 and he was all 😂😍haha yes ofc I'm just joking bbg 😍😂 but I knew there was more to it

Finally I got his birth time AND GUESS WHAT???

He's Hasta Rising 💀💀💀💀

Idk if you know already but I don't like Lunar men 🤡 and the minute I found out, I was SCREAMING bc 😭 why would God play me like that???? Put the most perfect guy, astrologically and otherwise, in front of me, I literally have him wrapped around my pinky and HE'S A LUNAR??? why God why 😭

But him & I had come too far for me to dump his ass for no reason 😬 (can't tell him it's bc the sus vibes I got from him was further bolstered by him being Lunar 🤭) so I was praying to God to give me an opportunity where he fucks up so that I can walk away 🚶🏻‍♀️from this situation before things get out of hand

AND GOD DELIVERED 😩

I was texting him the other day and he spoke about how he wants to spend as much time with me as he can before we go out to chase our dreams (move away from this city basically) and I was like 🤨so you're looking for a short term relationship?? And he was like 🥺 no never and I was like why tf would you say you want to marry me and have babies (1 boy and twin daughters 😭🤡💀) if you already know you cannot commit???? And he was like "because we could meet again in a few years and it would be nice to have this plan ready" 💀💀💀💀 HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT AKSKKSJSJDIID brother thinks my IQ is in the negatives bc WTF sort of explanation is that 😭 and i told him "this manipulation might work elsewhere but not on me, good luck tho, bye, I'm done here 💅🏻" and he went 180 and said "I'm so sorry, I was just trying to be funny, please give me another chance, all I meant is that we never know how things go so we can try to work things out but there's no guarantee, please I'm so sorry" 😂😂 and he called me like 3 times and finally said "Can we atleast still be friends? i can't lose you like this" AJSJJSJSJ THE AUDACITY 🤡💀🤡💀

but I just want to say thank you God for showing me his true colours and for giving me the opportunity to exit with grace and dignity and making him feel like a fool 😌✨

[hollygl125-tww]

so do those two people from CSI get together or are they just like that?

This is such a totally delightful ask! (I mean, who doesn’t want an excuse to talk about their OTP! But also this is undoubtedly way more than you wanted to know, because who doesn’t want an excuse to talk about their OTP!) Thank you so much, @andmethefivefooter! 💛

Although it probably goes without saying, this answer is spoiler-laden.

Very short answer:

They were just like that for a really, really, really long time. Then eventually they got married. Then they got divorced. Then they got married again.

Slightly longer answer:

These two rival Josh and Donna in the length of their slow burn. It was quite a roller coaster ride. 🎢

She showed up in the second episode of the series as a nebulously-defined “friend” of his from San Francisco. (They’d met about two and a half years earlier at a forensics conference. I say they slept together at the conference, but that’s headcanon.) They were eye-fucking by the third episode. She tried to get him to go to dinner with her in season 3; he shot her down. But season 4 confirmed what we all knew: that he was just as into her as she was into him.

We found out at the end of season 6 that they’d gotten together at some point (later revealed to be about a year earlier). Season 8 confirmed he’d loved her the whole time (just as she had him). They got engaged. A few episodes later, she left the show, and we finally saw them kiss onscreen for the first (the first!), ever-so-heartbreaking time. Then he left the show in season 9, and they reunited in the Costa Rican rainforest (and kissed for a second—much happier—time!).

She came back to the show starting in season 10, and we found out they’d married offscreen. He never came back, though, so the incredibly unimaginative writers (very poorly) split them up during season 13. They ultimately reunited in the TV movie series finale that followed season 15 and literally went off into the sunset together on his (soon to be their) boat.

They returned together for the first season of CSI: Vegas, and it was confirmed that they’d remarried. They were flirty and loving and kind and supportive and beautiful and perfect and basically a shipper’s dream. And, at the end of the season, they finally kissed for the third (yes, third!) time (on a roller coaster, no less).

(This is my best GIF-set for an overview of the first fifteen years of their onscreen relationship. This one shows every time—yes, all three!—that they kissed.)

So, in sum, that’s something like the equivalent of eight full seasons of TV they spent onscreen together, and there were all of three kisses, two marriages, and one roller coaster ride. But, anyway, they’re amazing, and I love them. 💕💕💕