#can you tell what season is my favourite based on this

[lambilegs]

does it happen in a season? (part four: SUMMER - ii)

in her senior year of university, lee is ready for nothing more but yet another monotonous cycle of meeting her new roommate, adjusting, then living in separate spheres for the rest of the year. the last thing she's prepared for is: curiosity.

last chapter: (SUMMER i) | next chapter: (SUMMER iii)

soundtrack: seasons - wave to earth; lover - taylor swift; 20201203 - mac demarco; I know you know - CHSKA; video games - lana del rey

(contains: 19K words (tumblr did not let me upload the entire 40K part two of summer, so expect a third part soon), college!au lee harker, set in the nineties, discussions of trauma, depictions of anxiety and hoarding, internalized homophobia, homophobia, intoxicated sex (specifically, having sex when high) without prior discussion, joke made about reader taking advantage of lee when they're high, graphic sexual content w/ reader's body referred to with the following terms: "pussy," "cunt," "tits," "breasts," "clit," reader receiving fingering, reader being called a "good girl," kinks include: spitting, dirty talk, spanking, slight humiliation)

important note about sexual content: the start of sexual content will be marked by ✩ (bolded green-coloured star) and the end of it will be marked by ✩ (bolded red-coloured star). minors, and anyone who doesn't desire to read nsfw content, please use these markers in order to skip nsfw content.

----

SUMMER. SOMETIME IN THE 1990s.

lee’s holding a plate of food in each hand when you come scurrying into the kitchen, fresh and acutely awake after your morning shower. the news is softly playing on the radio, filling the apartment. as you dash past her, she leans her head in your direction and you give her a small peck before rushing to the couch and flopping onto it. 

you curl your feet underneath you as you scramble for the remote with a giddy smile biting at your face.

she sets the food down on the coffee table. “you know, grabbing the remote first doesn’t make it your turn.” 

“I know,” you respond haughtily. “what makes it my turn is that the last movie was a tape you picked out.”

“yes, but then, you had us watch an episode of a show that you like two days later.”

you roll your eyes. how did she even manage to remember the exact date that was? “yes, but that’s a show. it’s only half an hour long!”

“yeah, but doesn’t it make sense to determine who chose what we watched last based on the actual act of choosing – not runtime?”

you bristle at her pristine logic. “fine, I chose last. but, it doesn’t count – it was a half hour show!”

lee’s lips creep up. you can tell she’s enjoying the little argument, and you’d be inclined to tease her for it if it weren’t a deeply hypocritical thing to do. “but, again, our turns are based on choice. not runtime.”

your bottom lip juts out, staring longingly at the tapes on your coffee table. “c’mon, please.”

she sighs at you, lips pressing in together. after a moment, she gets up, picking up the tape of Age of Innocence.

you clap your hands excitedly, cheeks aching with how hard you beam. “you are my favourite girlfriend, you know that?”

“mm, yeah.” she pops the tape in, eyebrows drawn in slightly. “I remember last night.”

your shoulders twist at the shiver that creeps up your body, mind flashing with the mental images of lee between your legs, and the taste of her on your tongue, the latter of which has already faded, leaving you with a craving for more.

when you say nothing, lee turns to you wordlessly, the corner of her lip just barely tucked upwards. “what’s wrong?”

“I never said anything was wrong,” you shoot back, sinking further into the couch, praying you look casual. 

apparently not, for lee’s grin widens as she stands up, grabbing the remote and pointing it to the television to switch it on. “well, you know, you just got a bit quiet.”

“says the queen of the monosyllabic response.”

she seats herself on the couch, the bottom edge of her boxer shorts rising up her thighs. the sight makes you want to both lay your head on her thigh or get in her lap and continue off from last night. 

your thoughts snap when she turns to you. “I’m using more than one syllable now.”

“ah, a changed woman indeed.”

“so, what was the matter? when you weren’t talking.”

you roll your eyes, which is, frankly, partially an excuse to avoid eye contact. she really wants to know, doesn’t she? it feels silly, to be this shy after how wantonly you behaved the night before. but, the sobering light of morning does wonders for your self-consciousness. “I don’t know. I just got… shy thinking of last night.”

“yeah?” her fingers skim over where your hand rests, tracing over the veins on the back of it. her voice is lightened with something – teasing and what seems to be a bit of hope.

“yeah.” you glance down at your hands. “are you trying to seduce me?”

she slides hers away with a smile. “no.” 

you can’t help the wide grin that splits over your face as the film starts. as you watch Countess Olenska approaching Newland with her soft smirk and red dress, weaving her way through the crowd, you feel like you can sink into this couch, toast half eaten on your place, for years. 

there’s something newly intimate about watching a romance film with lee. sure, it felt intimate when you guys first did it back in winter. but to do it now, as an actual couple, feels personal. those are two people in love on the screen, and you and lee are also two people in love, and finally, both of you know it. 

you flinch at the thought. in love? okay, yeah, you need to get a reign in on your feelings. you don’t even know for sure if you’re there yet, and even if you are, a singular day into dating feels a bit too soon to be making any love confessions. but, even so, it isn’t really that soon, is it? it’s been ten months in the making. friendship surely can’t be that much of a preventative measure in arousing and moving forward the process of falling in love.

you’re yanked from your thoughts when lee reaches over to grab for your plate, stacking it on hers then walking over to the sink silently.

“oh, lee,” you start, hitting the pause button, “you don’t have to–”

“it’s okay,” she quietly replies, eyes lowered as she slips on the yellow gloves and gets to work. “just keep it on pause.”

“oh?” you drawl, standing to your feet and sauntering to her. “does that mean it’s fair to imply you actually like Age of Innocence?”

she shrugs. “I haven’t seen enough of it to determine that. but, um, I want to watch it for you.”

you stop behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your face against her shoulder, which is bare from her tank top. you can hear the hesitation in her voice from saying something so affectionate, and you squeeze gently. “you’re sweet.”

she hums, continuing her task. you can feel her stomach’s muscles tightening and tensing, before a long breath is drawn from her that sends her body softening. you kiss her shoulder, and laugh when a cup goes clattering against the side of the sink.

“shut up,” she mutters, her previous confidence swept back into her usual reservations. it’s sweet how she can switch like this. it makes you wonder if her confidence is rooted in your own timid bashfulness – if it gives her a boost, knowing her effect on you. after all, you’ve certainly experienced that vice versa.

when she’s finished, you, very reluctantly, let go of her and circle the counter, sitting at the other side of it, as she so often does when studying. you don’t know why she does – the stool isn’t particularly comfortable, and the surface of the counter is cool to the touch (and therefore, probably freezing during winter). plus, her desk is but a few paces away. 

when you inquire as such, her eyes curiously raise to yours as she grabs a knife and an orange from the pantry. carefully placing the fruit on the freshly washed cutting board, she says, “I read that it helps with focus to change the locations where you study during a session.”

“really? it doesn’t distract you at all?” it makes sense in light of lee’s habits – she’s never been one to consistently study at her desk, moving from there to the counter to the library. 

she cuts the orange into neat slices. “no. sometimes, it helps because I don’t get too comfortable in one spot.”

“that makes sense.” it’s also very studious of her, as well as dilligent. you can’t help but admire her. 

after moving the slices to a plate, she slides them over to the center of the counter. you smile at the silent gesture, feeling something in you swell at how quietly she cares. it’s almost like she doesn’t want to be noticed or recognized for the things she does for other people. like she’s content to offer these pieces of kindness so long as the receiver of them gets to reap their benefits. there’s nothing in it, at least intentionally, for her. 

✩

your eyes, fondly resting on her, trail down. her thumbs pinch into the ends of the slice, bending it down so that the pieces of it spread and widen into small triangles. you don’t know why, but the soft strength she uses in the gesture makes you shift in your seat. especially with how the veins protrude along the back of her hands, like winding rivers just begging to be drunk. she lifts the fruit to her mouth and her soft lips hug and tighten around a piece, slowly sucking and drawing it in. a wet, squelching noise rasps out, tiny squeaks produced from the moisture of the slice as she presses her lips in harder, fluidly moving them in and out, like some sort of a dance. the juice of it leaks from the corner of her lips, and you can see the pads of her finger shine with the stickiness of it. you breathe heavily, mouth feeling impossibly dry when faced with the idea of taking those fingers in your mouth and sucking them clean of the sour liquid. 

you practically gasp when, after her mouth takes some twists and turns, jaw tightening and tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek, she suddenly spits a seed into her palm. as she turns her hand into the plate, dropping it, you feel your thighs tighten on instinct. the gesture is so dirty, so primal, done on pure instinct by her. it causes your mind to flood with the sticky, sweet memories of how she spat down on your folds the night before, not a moment of hesitation holding her back, riding off the pure desire to get you even wetter and ready for her mouth. did she like how shiny you looked with her saliva? did she like watching you drip with both arousal and something belonging to her? did she want to mark you up? each possibility carries a heated appeal to it.

she was so passionate and tender last night, but those moments of dominance are also seared into your brain. when she’d tease you, take her time with you, taunt you and seem to take pleasure in your shock and helplessness to her words. you don’t know if that’s all the roughness she has to offer, or if there’s more she’s holding back on, but you want to. especially when this little unintentional display of hers has the mental image of her spitting replaying without cease in your mind. you need to do something regarding sex right now. jumping her bones, talking about it, you don’t care – just anything that’ll sate some of this desire and curiosity in you.

“lee?”

she looks up, her sharp gaze making you feel reborn, revived to the very bone. “mm?” 

“I can’t remember if you answered clearly, since I passed out and all, but do you remember me asking about, um, you know, kink?”

she freezes, eyes pierced on the surface of the counter. “yes.” 

you can immediately sense the discomfort aroused by the question and slowly reach your hand over to hers. “it’s okay, alright? I just thought we could talk about it, see if we’re on board for certain things.”

“okay.” her voice is tentative.

you click your tongue in your mouth, an awkward pause hanging between you two. “okay, um…”

“I’ll go first,” she quietly offers. when you blink back in surprise, she mutters, “you always take these steps first. I want to do that for you too.”

you swallow hard, nearly driven to emotions by the words. “I… okay.”

“I, um…” she braces her palms on the counter, head ducked down. “I enjoy, um… I don’t know, power play, I guess.”

“mm,” you hum, abdomen stirring at the confession. “I thought as much.”

her eyes dart up to you. “wha– how?”

you shrug, propping your chin on your fist. “well, you just had moments of it last night.”

she sighs, nostrils flaring. “sorry. I didn’t mean to do it without asking. it just happened.”

“it’s okay. I liked it,” you mumble, mouth breaking into a smile from the nerves sparked in your body.

“you did?”

you nod. now it’s your turn to avoid her gaze, yours pinpointed on the plate of fruit. “I like power play too.”

“that’s, um– okay.”

after another quiet moment lapses, you force yourself to ask, “what else do you like?”

her fingertips skitter along the surface of the counter, jaw clenched and lips pinched in concentration and deep thought. “well, I sometimes enjoy, um, talking explicitly. as well as touch that’s a bit, well, harder.”

despite your own shyness, you break into a fit of giggles at her vague alluding. “so, dirty talk and spanking, basically?”

the corner of her mouth twitches, blinking rapidly as she keeps her gaze downcast. “pretty much.”

you press your thighs together. fuck. images flash through your mind of lee bending you over her lap, those large hands delivering swift smacks to your ass. you can picture the way your skin would burn under her sharp touches, pussy leaking and aching until she finally plugs you with two fingers. or maybe even her strap.

the last of those thoughts jolt you out of your perverted daydreams, and you realize you ought to confess the sighting of her toy. you wouldn’t want to undergo the ruse and lie of pretending you know nothing about it, especially when, or if, she reveals it to you. “I also have a small thing to admit.”

her eyes slowly rise to you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. god, you want to kiss the crease in her forehead. “what is it?”

“I’ve, well…” you suddenly laugh, anxiety flipping in your stomach like a pancake. what if she gets mad? what if she doesn’t believe you and she thinks you were snooping? it seems too late to backtrack convincingly, though, so you push yourself on. “I’ve seen your toy. and harness.”

her head visibly flinches, reeling back in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. “how?” 

“I wasn’t snooping!” you nearly cry out, hands raised in defense. “I accidentally opened your drawer because I was rushing to get your clothes. you know, on that day where it was raining and we both got wet – um, yeah, wet.” you nearly choke on your words, and internally curse. “it was an accident, I promise, I–”

“I know,” she cuts in softly. “don’t worry. I know it was an accident.” despite the pink dust on her cheek, she watches you earnestly, gaze intense.

your words melt into a shaky sigh. “I…”

she leans over the counter, and you make a muffled noise of surprise when her lips land on yours. the kiss is tender and smooth, as though your lips are a fragile work of glass, moments away from shattering. when she parts from you, she whispers, “I know, okay? I know you.”

you gulp at the words. maybe you will shatter any moment now, for the weight of being known with such certainty bears down on you heavily. “thank you.”

her forehead leans on yours. “you don’t have to thank me.”

she leans back to her side of the counter, and your skin immediately crawls with the sheer want for her to be back on you, close again. “so…” 

“did it make you uncomfortable?” 

you immediately understand the meaning of her question. she means to ask if you judge her, or think her immoral, for possessing such a toy. if you think she’s less of a feminist, less of a lesbian. “no, I don’t.” for the sake of both honesty and extra assurance, you add, “I’d like to try it.”

a small noise bursts from the back of her throat, and you force your mouth to remain stiff. “are you sure?”

“yeah. only if you want to, you know – I get it might be for, you know…” you pause, face burning. “personal use.”

“it is, sometimes,” she mutters, voice so low you could’ve easily lost it if not for the silence of the room. “but, I, um…” her fingers roll into a tight fist on the counter. “have used it on others. and have had it used on myself.”

you chew on your lip, a spark of irritation flickering in you. “hm. I see.”

she eyes you warily. “what are you thinking?”

you sigh, knowing if you don’t tell her, she probably won’t be able to piece together your quiet, petty signals on her own. “I’m jealous, okay?”

her lips press together, faintly raising at the corners, those lovely laugh lines deepening in her cheeks. “last night and now this. have you always been this possessive?”

you bristle, rolling your eyes at the dig. “no.” 

“no?” she reaches over, fingertips skimming along your jaw. “so, our relationship just brings it out in you?”

you scoff at the slightly cocky undertone of her voice. “no.” 

she rubs a piece of hair between her thumb and index finger. when you look up, you nearly whimper at the sight of her dark eyes resting on you intently. “also, to answer your question from before, I do want to use it with you.” hesitation makes her voice slightly waver, but for the most part, she manages to speak the blunt sentiment steadily. the surety of it makes you nearly squirm. she really does want you, doesn’t she?

you clear your throat, still trying to maintain your composure. it’s easier said than done, considering your mind is racing with thoughts of lee burying her strap in you, pumping in the thick length of it inside and spreading your hole loose and open. you nearly whine without realizing it. “okay. good.”

she slowly stalks over to your side of the counter. “why exactly is it good?” 

“lee, I swear to God, I– ah.” your words crumble into a moan when she leans down, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses down your neck. 

“mm, don’t be blasphemous,” she mumbles, her words deep with a gentle, playful scolding.

with the amount of words she has you spewing for the rest of the morning, blasphemy is the last thing on your mind. all you can do is lose yourself to her mouth and touch, letting yourself spin in a whirlwind of pleasure until you’re tired and worn.

✩

–

lee walks out of the exam room and feels like she’s floating – the heavy weight of it being her final exam is lifted from her shoulders, and she feels far from reality at knowing she is officially, truly done with her semester. her last semester. she swallows hard, an onslaught of anxiety thrusted at her as she processes that piece of information. she sucks in deep, even breaths. it’ll be okay. she has time to digest all of this, and let herself truly process it, before job-searching.

a job. soon, she’ll no longer be working in the library, with its repetitive structure so ingrained in her head that she can do it half-asleep. she’ll have to get an actual job. one in law enforcement, one that encapsulates all she’s been working towards. it’s an exciting thought, one that sends a surge of energy through her. but, it’s also one that makes her crack a bit, too. just a bit. this life, this routine, the dream she’s devoted four years of her life to – it’s all slipping between her fingertips and all she can do is continue stepping away from it and watch it fade away. she remembers your words. an abyss.

she barely knows what she’ll even do in these next few weeks. and something about that feels unsettling, like she’s hanging off a thread that’s about to snap. she likes having her plans set and in motion, written on her calendar and followed through without falter. but, right now, her vague plans only consist of: fix up her resume, look for work, continue working at the library until she finds something sufficient, and go to the pride march with you. 

she’s aware of how out of place the last of those is, having only agreed to it because you had asked her so tenderly to go, eyes wide and imploring. both of you had never gone to a pride march before, your university’s city holding only its second one this year. it definitely isn’t her thing, and she only felt just-barely-comfortable with the idea because you promised to stay on the edge of the crowd with her. but, the truth is, as soon as the question had left your mouth, her answer was yes. she’d probably go anywhere, so long as you were there.

but, after the march, how the rest of her weeks will look is a blur, nothing marked by the timelines that usually stabilize her. and that’s something she doesn’t like.

it’s not like this reaction is surprising. she knows herself well enough to have anticipated the anxiety that’d be triggered from having her routine and structure taken from her. 

what she didn’t expect, however, is the sadness. a deep ache weighs down on her stomach. she’s relieved, but as she walks down the halls, she just wants to transport back to some time months before. when things were secure, and had a sameness to it that was reliable and comfortable. now, she’s faced with what feels like thousands of new paths to go down on. she only has one she’s interested in, but it feels like even that branches off in so many different directions regarding how she’ll approach getting her first real job. not to mention what to do about her home – it’s only a matter of time until you and her are faced with the choice of extending the lease or leaving. how will you two handle it?

so much for that bout of relief. she sighs, tugging the door to her class’s building open, freezing two steps down when she catches sight of you. 

you’re beaming, eyes crinkled, fingers wrapped around a small bouquet of flowers. her eyes scan your face down to the yellow petals, feeling her breath hitch. are they for her? it feels presumptuous to ask, despite the burning, embarrassing want for the gift to be hers. 

she finishes walking down the steps, slowly approaching you, eyes flicking to the flowers. “what’s going on?”

your arm jolts out, thrusting the flowers at her. on instinct, she catches it, her pinky brushing against your finger. she doesn’t speak on the twitch she feels in your hand, but silently takes pleasure in it. 

“they’re for you.”

her lips part in surprise. she can’t remember the last time someone got her flowers. in fact, she doesn’t think she’s ever gotten flowers before. a tender sort of gratitude spills into her, dripping and dripping until she’s filled to the brim with a shy pleasure. is this what it feels like to get spoiled?

she grips onto the flowers tightly, feeling irrationally attached to and protective over them.  “what for?”

“a congratulations gift for being done.” with a soft smile, you rise on your toes, kissing her cheek. 

lee’s eyes dart around your surroundings. she’s not used to such unbridled public affection. just like the day of the fire hydrant, she doesn’t know what to think, what to do. she wants to return these touches, but she’s not accustomed to it, and when she’s on the edge of doing so, she can’t help but feel fear and self-consciousness spring upon her. both for herself and the people surrounding you two.

you don’t seem to notice her alarm, pulling back and hooking your arm through hers. “come on.”

she tries to shake off her thoughts. just for a few hours, she wants to forget and toss away all the fears and anxieties, and just enjoy the afternoon with you. she smells the flowers, trying to point all her senses to the sweet scent. the last thing she wants is to have another attack in front of you, or ruin your gift. 

she tenses as you two weave through the crowd filling the street in front of campus. today is the last day of exams, and as per usual, that comes with blaring music, live entertainment and stalls of homemade gifts and trinkets. her eyes drift over them as you tug her through. she’d like to get you something. maybe she should return tomorrow.

someone slams into her with a hard thump. well, only if she has it in her to.

as you two walk past a stall that is identified from an upright chalkboard with twisting letters reading out, “Psychic,” you pull gently on her arm, nodding to it. she glances at it, then raises an eyebrow to you, unsure of what your meaning is. 

“do you believe in them?” you ask.

she hesitates, carefully pondering over her answer. she’s not someone who would depend on a psychic so much so that she’d visit them consistently – she can’t see herself doing that with any spiritual practice. and she wouldn’t place enough faith in what a psychic says to the point of re-adjusting her life because of their words. but, there’s a little part of her brain, maybe a remnant of her upbringing, that’s always tickling with the possibility of something existing beyond the scope of real life. something supernatural, spiritual, or otherworldly. it lingers at the back of her head, and comes out of the shadows when she’s faced with something and left with no evidence to explain it away. then, it itches at her – the curiosity of something more, something even she can’t grasp. it’s probably another reason why she wouldn’t go to a psychic. she’s too afraid of the possibility of it all being true. so, she must believe in it at least a little.

“I guess I do – a little bit. I usually rationalize it, but I think part of me does.”

“I see. so, if you’re all for rationalizing, I’m guessing you’re not religious?”

she ducks her head down, eyes following her feet. the question, simple as it is, shouldn’t cause tension to roll down her spine. but, it does. all of it flashes through her. the years of devout worship and strict regime, the pressure she put on herself to appear perfect, be perfect. the way her mom added to it, bit by bit, like a recipe of destruction, letting her paranoia manifest in constant questioning and warning. the way those teachings, both within her household and small town, had casted her into years of deep shame and hiding.

“not anymore.”

“but, you were once?”

she nods. “yeah.” from your inquiring gaze, she can tell you want more. if she wholly didn’t want to give it, she wouldn’t. but, part of her does. she wants to share this pain with you, have you maybe help her carry some of it. she had already managed for so long on her own. not about everything, but at least this. “well, my mom was pretty religious, so she raised me as such. but, the older I got, the more I started feeling stifled by it. that was the first thing that drove me away.” she glances at you, feeling almost guilty to admit her stray from faith. “when I realized I was a lesbian, and started seeing how the people in the church and town treated gay people, I only felt more isolated. then, I did research. and in addition to feeling less inclined for organized religion, I started questioning its foundations.”

she hates that she still feels a sense of shame washing over her at the admission. her eyes tentatively raise to you. a part of her mind, a part she knows is irrational, wonders if you’re judging her. 

but, then you squeeze her hand. and in a voice so soft she nearly loses it in the crowd’s mumblings, you say, “that must’ve been hard, yeah? I’m proud of you for not brushing your doubt or discomfort away. for letting yourself question things so that you can eventually feel comfortable.”

she clears her throat. she never thought it was an experience to take pride in. “why are you proud?”

you squeeze her arm. “because it might’ve been easier to just set aside your doubts and discomfort. and, you know, pretend to be religious for the sake of peace. but, instead, you chose to question things, and research them, and take your discomfort seriously enough to not force yourself to believe in it.”

lee supposes she understands that. it probably would’ve been easier to have just let her doubts remain in the sidelines, and avoid them in her thoughts. instead, she had lingered on it, confronted it, and sought other resources. 

there is one thing wrong with your words, though. she does pretend. 

“when, um, my mom asks me if I’m saying my prayers, I lie. I tell her I do.”

“why?” 

she sighs. “we’re already… less close than when I was a child. revealing how far gone I am from religion might make things worse.” she doesn’t want that. the thought terrifies her. because distant and strained as she is from her mom, she doesn’t want to become even more removed from her life. she doesn’t want to widen the bridge between them. or disappoint her.

“I understand that. it makes sense, she’s your mom. and you guys still have some closeness there. you don’t want to just, you know, lose that.”

you’re right. she doesn’t. 

“I noticed you have a bible in your room. what is it there for? if you’re not religious.”

she starts in surprise. once again, just as you’ve been doing so since autumn, you’ve caught her off guard with your observations. she finds herself slightly impressed. “it’s one I had at my house back in oregon. it would’ve looked odd to have not brought it when I moved out.” she pauses, mouth twisting at what she’s about to say. it feels stupid, and it’s something she’d usually keep hidden. but, no secrets. that’s what she had asked for from you. “and sometimes, I read it. I don’t know why. there’s just, I don’t know, a familiarity to it.”

“because of your mom?”

she tightly nods. “and my childhood.” it’s nonsensical, really. she spent so long wanting out of that life and hoping to escape it. now, she has, and still, there exists an invisible string connecting her to it. sometimes, it tightens and pains, and she lets herself give way to nostalgia. even if she knows her longing doesn’t account for even half of the discomfort of actually being back there.

“I understand.”

you always do. and lee feels an indescribable amount of gratitude. but, telling you this much has already taken a toll, and she’s not ready for more. and so, she glances back to where the psychic’s stall was, asking, “and you? do you believe in them?”

“it’s hard to say. in my psych class, we were taught about tacts used in that kind of stuff that can make a reading feel more believable. but, at the same time, I’ve heard people recall times where their reading included some really specific stuff that actually happened.”

she’s heard both kinds of accounts, as well. it only adds to her confusion about the whole thing, which seems similar to your own stance. her eyes scan you. you had seemed so curious about the stall.

“do you want to go back to it?”

“no, no, I’m too hungry. you?” 

she shrugs. “no, I’m not really interested.”

“awe, c’mon, she might’ve had something interesting to say.” you lean close, pressing your chest into her arm, and she sucks in a tiny breath at the contact. “maybe that your roommate is an amazing girlfriend who you should spend the rest of your life with.”

“I don’t need a psychic to know that.” the words escape her mouth before she can even process them. she blinks hard. jesus, if she needed a reason to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the day, this is it. she angles her head away from you, looking down, for her fear outweighs her curiosity.

“wow, you like me,” you drawl out, words thick with the tease.

she sighs, rolling her eyes. she does, desperately so, but she doesn’t need to satisfy you even more than you already are.

“where are we going?” she asks as you two turn the corner, out of the crowd and along a sidewalk. without saying anything, she slips her arm from your grasp before placing it on your back, guiding you to the inner side of the pavement.

you falter in your words, and she bites back a grin at the sight of your eyes skittering between the two of you, your body shifting slightly under her palm. she’s not accustomed to having this effect on someone after years of singlehood – and if she had possessed it during those years, she hadn’t noticed. regardless, she knows you well enough to know what some of your little physical reactions mean. and to know she’s making you shy or thrown off course, even momentarily, makes her more smug than she’d ever admit.

you clear your throat. “um… well, I uh–”

she tilts her head at you, feeling amusement rise in her. “yes?” 

“I got us a reservation at this restaurant.” before she can respond, you smile and say, “don’t worry, I checked and it’s not a crowded one.”

her shoulders loosen at your words, gratitude rolling through her. how nice it is to have someone know her so well, so well that prompting is unnecessary before doing something like that.

“thanks,” she mutters. she doesn’t want the gesture gone unnoticed – both for the sake of wanting you to know she appreciates these things, but also because part of her is so unaccustomed to receiving them that she wants to do anything she can to make it last. she knows you wouldn’t stop giving this, she knows it, but a part of her itches in fear that if she doesn’t proceed correctly, you’ll stop helping her in these quiet ways.

“of course, babe.”

she jerks a bit at the term. the automatic reaction sends a wave of embarrassment through her. she feels like an awkward child, bashful and disjointed from your smooth, effortless words of endearment. you notice the little movement too, eyes scanning her body.

you don’t mention it until you two are in the outdoor seating area of the restaurant. you were right – it’s not overcrowded, and is small and quaint, flowers lining along the gate separating the tables from the street. as her eyes rove along curiously, exploring the architecture of the building, you speak.

“are you okay with them? the nicknames?”

she uses the bouquet as an excuse to not look at you, carefully setting them on her lap. the truth is, she’s more than okay with them. to be called something that only belongs to the two of you carries an intimacy she more than welcomes. the only thing that acts as a barrier is how foreign it is, how unaccustomed she is to someone other than her mom using those soft words with her. as well as how she isn’t used to seeing herself as, let alone being, the receiver of affection. it’s not something she let herself think of much through the course of her life, nor something she ever felt would be easy for a person to give her. but, you do it as naturally as breathing. it’s frightening at times.

“I am. I’m just not used to it. and I,” she adds lowly, bracing herself for the vulnerability of the next words, “I don’t really – I mean, I’m not used to thinking of myself as someone who people can be affectionate with.”

“why?” 

lee’s mouth twists at how gently you ask it. “I don’t know. I’m not used to receiving it.”

“but, amaya and maria…”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve had them these past four years. but, for most of my life…” she shrugs, eyes cast down from the humiliation coiling in her. “I’ve either isolated myself, or had no choice in the matter. it might not make sense, but I feel like I’m still used to it being that way.”

you blink slowly at her, and she tries to not let her gaze linger on you and your bright eyes, your hair, the slope of your nose, or the tiny blackheads scattered around it. your eyebrows are relaxed, lips pursed – you don’t look like you’re judging her. rather, just perceiving her. maybe with thoughtfulness, with sympathy, she isn’t sure.

“remember when you told me, a few weeks back, that we, I don’t know, regress to our child selves with parents?”

her eyebrows scrunch, perplexed at the change of topic. “yeah.” 

“well, I feel like we do that kind of stuff with a lot of our relationships. like, how we were treated in our core, developmental years kind of frames our sense of worth sometimes, and we sort of just… linger in it.”

she nods, slightly feeling like she’s being psychologically assessed. 

“but, that’s okay, you know? it happens, and it makes sense to still carry it with you. and, you know, it also doesn’t make it true. you are loveable, lee.”

she nearly winces at such a tender sentiment, feeling her jaw ache with how hard it tightens. a jerk racks her body when she feels the back of your fingers brush her knuckles.

“anyone who has rejected or isolated you had no idea what they were missing out on. you’re really easy to… um, care for. trust me, it’s one of the easiest things I know.”

part of her wants you to stop. it’s too much, all the praise and compliments. she didn’t mean for the conversation to go this way, to land her in even more of a vulnerable position. it was one thing to confess her insecurities, but being comforted feels like a whole other ordeal. confessing is at least active, and in her control in some kind of way, whereas receiving your words of adoration renders her passive, an open cup to be filled and filled with your praise, at nothing but your will. 

you make it sound like caring for her and showing this affection is so easy. and it probably is to you. a conclusion she arrives at not because she thinks she’s easy to love. but, because you conduct the ordeal of it with such a lack of hestiation. at least, that’s how it appears to her. maybe it’s a lot harder for you than she realizes. maybe it’s just the feelings of care that are easy for you, but the action takes a lot of work. as much work as it takes for her.

with that thought in mind, she forces her eyes to move up to your face. her fingers uncurl from their fist, and she lightly traces your fingers with hers. “um, thanks. for everything.”

your thumb rubs along a nail on her finger, neatly trimmed from when she cut it last night. “of course.” 

“it’s not…” she pauses, rolling the words in her mind before speaking. “easy for me. to do these sort of things.”

“really? you’ve been so touchy, though.”

she clears her throat. “yes. but, I mean, well, verbally. I’m trying, but, it’s hard for me.”

“it’s unfamiliar?” 

“mm,” she hums. “it’s just been a while. and it’s always been hard to… make that transition. from not doing it to getting used to it.”

“I mean, are you forcing yourself to? does it not feel natural?”

she doesn’t exactly know what “natural” means in this context. the feelings come to her without persuasion or calling for it. but, the execution is intentional. “I do want it. I want to say those things. but, then, I’ll start thinking hard about it and I won't do it.”

“hm.” you cross your arms on the table, and her mouth twitches at your pondering. “well, maybe it’ll just take practice. like, the first few times will feel foreign, but you’ll adjust.”

she tries to think of something other than how attractive your problem-solving is. “probably.” 

“did you use them with your other girlfriends?”

she hesitates, hoping she doesn’t make you jealous with her next words. “not with my first. but, with the one from my first year, yeah.” she picks at the napkin on the table. “it was an adjustment then, too.”

you nod slowly, eyes downcast. she shifts in her seat, feeling a twinge of worry at your silence. but, she lets it linger – it’s not uncomfortable, per say. it never really is with you.

“was it about consciously doing it first and just letting it become natural?”

“yeah, pretty much.” 

“okay, then, I guess we’ll just do that, right?”

it’s the sensical choice, she knows, but still she feels a flicker of disappointment for herself. “I know. I just wish it would come easier to me.” her jaw flexes. “I wanna be where you are.”

“you are.” you twine your fingers together, and her wrist goes slack under your touch. “struggling with this doesn’t mean you aren’t. it just takes… practice. then, I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

“yeah. I know.” she sighs softly, eyes lingering on the yellow petals of the flowers.

“‘I know’...?”

her eyebrows draw in together, confusion rumbling through. “what?” 

“isn’t there a word you’re missing?” you drawl out, tone so husky she’d almost mistaken it as flirtatious. actually, maybe you are being flirtatious. “one right at the end? one pretty romantic?”

her mouth twitches. how did she manage to see you as a friend for so long, when you’re this endearing, this cute? “are you fishing for affection right now?”

“okay, well, ‘fishing’ is quite a negative term to use for your girlfriend.” you roll your eyes. “this is me, from the good of my heart, helping you use terms of endearment.”

she scoffs. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re welcome. now, c’mon, I’m waiting.” 

lee sighs, pursing her lips together. the first time she was gonna say it would’ve been cringe-inducing no matter what, so maybe it’s better that you’re anticipating it and can brace yourself. it probably would wound her ego less to say it when you’re expecting it and less likely to be caught off guard and unable to mask a wince at her delivery. though, she supposes it’d be good to know if you are internally cringing. then, she can know how to adjust her tone next time.

she lifts your locked fingers to her face. “okay, um… baby.” she pushes her face against the back of your intertwined hands, your nails gliding along her forehead as she hides away. she’s aware, painfully so, of how pathetic she must look right now, but the word tastes foreign and she’s convinced she’s doing it all wrong, and maintaining eye contact is too much.

but, then she looks up. and your face looks like it’s milliseconds away from shattering with how wide your grin is.

she gulps. “was that, um, okay?”

“‘okay’ feels like too meek a word to cover it.”

she hums deeper into your skin, pressing a quick kiss before she can even take a moment to remember where the two of you are. 

–

“c’mon, just answer it,” you whine, gently kicking a foot to lee’s behind, which, as much as she covers it, is pretty nice and firm.

the movement has her head bumping lightly against the rim of the drying machine. “okay, don’t do that right now.”

you giggle, totally absolved of any guilt. “sorry.” 

she continues peeling the clothes from the hollow machine, dropping them into the basket. your eyes linger on it, something whirring in your chest at the sight of your underwear mixed with hers. how intimate it is, to have the dried fluids and stains on both your clothes mixing and flowing in the same stream of water as the soap cleans it out. 

when she’s done, she looks up at you from where she’s crouched down while you sit perched on the machine opposite to her. “fine. if I had to, I’d rather fight the ogre.”

“but, it has blades for fingers!”

she sighs. “yes. but, the cricket is less noticeable and faster, therefore less easy to detect and anticipate. at least you can maintain some long-range attacks with the ogre.”

“wow, someone did their homework.”

she picks up the basket, standing up, and you try not to think with your pussy. which is hard, considering how as she grips it, the faint outlines of her muscles flex, and the veins on the back of her hand stick out. and all the while, that white tank top deliciously clings to her body from the weather. it’s an impossibly irritating day with all the suffocating heat and sticky sweat. but, with lee’s body, for once, barely hidden in shape, her peachy skin glistening like washed fruit, it’s all worth it. you try to focus as she shoots you a blank, but marginally incredulous, look. “it’s just common sense.”

you hop off the machine. “I see – well, now, you’ll make a great fbi agent.”

“or a very scared one. something tells me these hypotheticals won’t accurately measure up to the reality of the job.”

you chuckle as she braces her back against the door, still managing to get it open for you despite her arms being full. “thanks. and, well, you know, that’s the duality of man. you can be both a scared agent and a really badass one.”

the afternoon is searing with moist heat, the thick humidity fanning your face, and the pavement golden with the afternoon sun. as you watch lee carry the basket, something in you softens. you love the life you two have shared this past year. and with an evident lack of post-graduation plans on your end, it’s tempting to just remain here, and continue working at the grocery store, so that you can take time to ponder over your future. not the most secure plan, you know, but it’s the only one that doesn’t send you tossing and turning into an ocean of panic at the prospect of. 

but, what if lee wants to leave? she knows what she wants to do, the path she wants to tread upon. now that you two have graduated, she may want to try something different, and be situated elsewhere. but, you’re not sure if you’re ready for that. it would be a huge move for someone who is already unsure about the rest of their life.

it’d be different if it were a year or two from now, when lee goes to virginia. hopefully, by then, you’d have more of your goals aligned, as well as a firm idea as to what it is you want in a career. but, to move now, when you’re still floating, barely tied town, tossing and turning over what you want – it feels like too much change. even if you do badly want to remain with her, and practically ache to your fingertips with the sheer intensity of that wish.

that is, if lee even wants you to come with her if she decides to leave. you know how solitary she is, for it shows even in your current living conditions. you sigh at the thought. you don’t mind it, how she enjoys her time alone, but what if it’s a sign that she’d prefer to live by herself once the lease is up? what if she decides to leave? the notion leaves you with a sting to your chest. you know if she decided to leave, it wouldn’t be personal, but rather just a testament to her preferences. but, it causes a wave of anxiety to roll into your stomach. if she decides she’d rather live alone, even if she stays in this city, is it a sign you guys will never live together again? what will happen years from now, if you guys reach an age where it becomes more reasonable to live together? will she only do it under obligation, but never really want it? what if she doesn’t really want it now, and just reconciles with it? 

besides, god, you’d miss her. you’d miss her so much. even if you two end up living apart because you want to stay here and she wants to leave, even if the space was just temporary, you’d be devastated.

“I’m not so sure those co-exist with ease.”

your eyes shoot back to her, trying to anchor yourself back into the conversation. the two of you can talk about all the living stuff later, maybe when the lease is up and you’re forced to. for now, you want to enjoy this while it still lasts.

and so, you reign yourself back in and bump her shoulder. “well, then, you’ll be the exception.”

the corner of her lip curls up. “you’re that confident?”

“I am.” you ensure the words are said earnestly, paired with a direct gaze to her. because it’s true. with lee’s natural tendency for what’s right, as well as her chivalry, gentleness and efforts to help, you’re more than sure of her capability. not to mention how sharp she is – she’s beaten your ass at more card games than you can count. 

eyes downcast, she nods. “thank you.”

“of course.”

back at home, the laundry long forgotten next to the shoe rack, you and lee share a joint, the scent of the weed quickly swarming through the apartment. after a few hits, the world seems to soften, your awareness tinged with a lovely sort of drowsiness. lee seems to be affected by it, too, her smiles a bit easier and the usual stiffness she sits with melted into a relaxed sag against the couch’s cushions. 

her thigh touches yours, and your skin burns from the sensation.

“you know, maybe we should put summer decorations on it,” you muse, tilting your head in the direction of the christmas tree.

lee doesn’t even turn to what you’re gesturing to, yet still manages an, “I don’t know why we still have it up.” you wonder how she does that.

“it’s festive.”

“it’s summer.”

“and?” 

“do I need to explain the connotations of that?”

you roll your eyes, suddenly tingling with the urge to laugh. “no. but, you should explain why we need to follow such arbitrary rules.”

“‘arbitrary’?” joint dangling from between her fingers, she slowly lifts it to her lips, and just like that night in fall, you feel practically needy at the sight. even her side profile is something to behold – cheekbones pronounced and shiny with sweat, eyebrows soft and dark, lashes curling so prettily. her slim shoulders lift gently as she takes the puff, easing as she releases the stream of smoke. 

“mhm. arbitrary.” in the state of your high, you need a moment to rack your brain to come up with an argument, even if the topic is playful. “like, it’s just a tree with decorations. but, culturally, we attach these ideas and meanings to it, and use them to limit ourselves. but, in the most literal sense, it’s just… a tree.”

she shakes her head. “please, save me from the marijuana-induced philosophy.”

“hey, you can learn something from it!”

“such as what qualifies as a tree?” she hands you the joint, and you drown in the feeling of brushing against the dry skin of her fingers. “I think I’m already sufficiently aware.”

“okay, you’re definitely not as high as you should be if you’re using words like ‘sufficiently.” 

a small smile brushes her face. “and why exactly are you trying to get me more high?”

“think of it as a celebratory gesture for finishing uni.”

“does ‘celebratory’ mean lowering my inhibitions and getting me to confess my secrets?”

“wow, and the trust issues rear their head!” you bellow, laughing loudly. 

she snickers before murmuring, “I do trust you.” 

you smile. “I know.” it feels good to know it. “maybe, I don’t know, maybe I’m trying to lure you into complacency.” you draw out the last syllable with a teasing stroke to her cheek, which sends her jerking back in surprise. 

✩

the corner of her eyes crinkle, eyes still hooked onto the opposite wall. “so, you can take advantage of me?” 

“maybe.” it’s a joke, but still, it has you fidgeting. especially when she lifts the edge of her tank top to wipe it along her gleaming face. the flash of her toned stomach, paired with the shadow of her breasts, makes you hiss sharply. 

she gently grips the wrist of the hand near her head. “you don’t need to.” something in her voice shifts, and you nearly tremble when she mutters, “you know I’d give anything to you.”

god, that’s hot. but, you feel a twinge of resistance. “but, you know, I only want you doing what you want to do as well. don’t just do something solely because I want it.”

she plants a kiss to your wrist, and you feel the warmth of her lips combine with the damp sweat lining her upper lip. “I know. I do want these things with you.”

you make a small noise in the back of your throat. “yeah?” 

“yeah.” a thin layer of saliva begins shining on the inside of your forearm as her open mouth kisses turn into long, slippery licks of her tongue. your breathing grows heavy as the tip of it curls at the sweaty inner crease near your elbow. 

“lee, I…”

she pulls back to take another hit, the musky scent of the weed making you feel nearly delirious as it wraps around you both. eagerly, you crawl across the couch and into her lap, thighs on either side of hers. as she takes in another deep breath of it, her head turns to the side as she releases the smoke. you nearly whimper at the sight of it. her smooth pink lips hugging the tip, the way they round into a small O as she blows, how her jaw tenses and flexes through it all. you want to taste the smoke that she’s breathed in, swallow down the air that’s been trapped in her mouth.

you press your nose into her cheek, breathing in her tangy sweat. “kiss me when you do that.”

she hums, one of her hands snaking under your t-shirt, rubbing the hairs on your back. wordlessly, she sucks in another puff from the joint, then finally turns to you, dark eyes entrancing and focused as her hand reaches up to cup your face, thumb stroking a patch of dry skin near your lips. she leans in, kissing you, with a small, wet squelch signifying the meeting. you suck in deep breath, moaning lowly when lee opens her mouth, tongue sliding against your bottom lip as the warm cloud flows from her mouth to yours. god, it tastes so much better from her, to get dizzy from both the weed and her insistent mouth, prodding and pushing against yours.

your hips buck, pressing down against her thigh. her short nails dig into your ass, one hand clutching and groping as the other continues to curl around the joint. your hands run along the firm grooves of her arms, gripping hard at her shoulders as your tongue continues to flick along hers, slippery and uncoordinated. the heady smoke continues to get swapped between your mouths, paired with spit and the salty taste of sweat. you need more.

you part from her with a gasp, pulling your t-shirt off and tossing it to the side of the couch. lee’s eyes immediately dart to your chest and without a moment’s hesitation, she ducks down, taking a perked nipple into her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as she slowly sucks on it, lips pressing around it to draw out a slow build of pressure. you make a pathetically whiny noise, taking a long moment to process why her hand is raising up before spotting the joint in between her fingers. you grab it, smoking as she uses both hands to hold your tits, switching between them as she pops your nipples in and out of her mouth, tongue sliding out to lap at them, the cool feeling of her saliva making your hand tremble as you smoke from the joint. 

a long sigh is drawn from your lips when one hand skims under your loose shorts, travelling to your underwear, which is heavy with arousal. 

“so needy,” she whispers against your lips, her fingertips tantalizingly light as they stroke your folds over the fabric. 

you clench at her words. you two had agreed to try out more of your guys’... unorthodox desires, and a desperate part of you hopes today will be that day. wanting to urge her on, you play into the game. “I’m not,” you breathe against her lips.

“mm, I’m sure of it.” her fingers dip under the fabric and you gulp as they skim along your pussy’s lips, gathering the wetness seeping from your opening and spreading it. “you’re just this wet, because..?”

“the, um, weed has me more… susceptible,” you whisper against her lips, pressing in another long, hard kiss.

she pulls away, rolling up the ends of her tank top and pulling it off. you bite your lip, desire shooting through your abdomen. it’s the first time you’ve seen her like this. her tits are round and perfect, heavier than you had expected. her nipples, a dark pink-brown colour, are stiff, just like they’ve always been under her shirts whenever you snuck a glance in. 

she leans further back into the couch, fingers continuing to massage your pussy as she sits comfortably, staring up at you. you brace your palms along her stomach, fingers sliding along the shape of her ribs. tracing the shape of a part of her, hidden beneath skin and flesh, makes you wanton in the intimacy of it. when you reach the sweaty underside of her breasts, you look up to her for permission.

when she nods, her tight expression melts away moments later into a contortion of pleasure as your fingers begin to stroke her nipple, thumb and index fingers rolling the stiff bud. as you watch their swelling in fascination, her thumb begins to languidly stroke and rub at your clit, using your juices to easily glide over it. the firm press of her finger sends you losing yourself for a second, accidentally toying with her nipples too hard, inciting a small cry from her. you immediately pause from your ministrations, though you can feel your hole squeeze at the noise. 

“are you okay?”

eyes still screwed shut, she nods. “yeah. you can, um, do that again.”

oh? you smile at the revelation, excitement bubbling up in your stomach. carefully, you tweak her nipples again, the sharp touch sending her lovely body arching up again, quietly calling out your name. your breaths grow heavier, body jerking when her fingers begin to move again, rubbing against your entrance, tantalizingly close to the rim of your hole. 

she sits up, wrapping her arms around your waist, mouthing slowly at your neck, her index finger beginning to push through your entrance. you whine at the tight fit of it, hips unconsciously bouncing on their own, your pussy so much more attuned to touch from the high you’re in. she gnaws and licks with an almost animalistic want, sharp teeth sinking into your skin and making you toss your head back, lost in the sensations of her fingers and mouth. 

after sucking in what feels like her fourth hickey into your neck, she pulls back, lips hanging open.

your clit throbs at the sight. “what is it?”

“the joint.”

“oh.” you laugh shyly. even with a finger deep inside you, the tip achingly close to your g-spot, you still feel yourself cower under the weight of her gaze as you lift the joint to her lips, a giddy feeling flapping through your stomach as she draws it into her mouth, inhales deeply, then keeps it dangling from her mouth until you pluck it from her mouth again. when you do, she blows the stream of smoke in your face, the heat of it soaking through the sweat on your face and making you feel even more moist and sticky. when the last of it is almost gone, she kisses you hard, shoving her tongue into your mouth and forcing you to breathe in the smoke. the rough gesture has you whining against her, your hole tightening up on her finger. when she pulls back, you laugh against her lips, “I thought you wanted me to spit in your mouth or something.”

surprisingly enough, she seems unfazed by your comment, nuzzling against your neck. “you can.”

you freeze at the proposition. memories of lee spitting on your pussy wander into your mind. so sloppy, so dirty. you want to do that, too. want to give her something that’s a part of you, that’s been in your body. 

you tug her from your neck, eager and beginning to rock against her finger. the entire motion is broken at the edges, soft and melting into every action before and after, intoxication clouding every one of your senses but adding to your sensitivity all at once. “open up.”

a corner of her lip quirks up, and she follows your demand, silently opening it. you hover your mouth over hers, hesitating before pushing a gush of saliva from your mouth, a long, thick drop of it falling to her bottom lip while the rest slides down your chin. you laugh in embarrassment, especially when a small chuckle leaves lee’s mouth. but, any embers of humiliation are washed away with the cold awareness of arousal when she licks up the white bubbles of your spit, swallowing it down, then follows suit with your chin, the soft texture of her tongue roving around it as she licks up the mess you’ve made. 

“you’re so clumsy,” she murmurs between kisses. “sloppy.”

“shut u–”

she shushes you, cutting you off with a small kiss. “no backtalk.” 

the small show of dominance has you clutching onto her tighter, your tits rubbing against hers, sweat making your bodies hot and sticky as the drops on her chest soak into your skin. it’s so wet, so messy, and the floaty state your body is in has you mindlessly moving against her, grinding on her thigh and whimpering for more. “fuck, I need you.” you lick your lips and swallow, mouth dry and scratchy. 

lee murmurs, “thirsty?” 

“mhm,” you softly whine.

“open.”

your movements faltering slightly, your lower lip hangs down, patiently awaiting her.

the sound of her spit is loud and clear as a wad of it splatters into your mouth. the sudden burst of wetness has you moaning and jerking on her lap, quietly whimpering for more. lee’s longer fingers grip your jaw hard, and she easily does it again, sharp and precise, her warm saliva spilling onto your tongue just right.

her fingers on your jaw loosen. “is this okay? being… rough?”

“yes,” you gasp. “I want more.” lost in your desire for it, you begin babbling. “you can be rougher. you know, like, the talking, the, um, spanking.” you swallow hard, sprinkling kisses on her face to avoid eye contact.

her next words are shaky, muddled with a quiet moan. “come, get up.”

you tighten your arms around her neck in protest. “why?”

in a mere few minutes later, lee has your back pressed against the cold tiles of the shower’s walls, one hand cupping your thigh, encouraging you to keep your foot propped on one of the shelves. with this angle, her fingers are able to pump in and out of you with ease, your pussy making soaked noises from your wetness and the shower’s water, the latter of which coats you and lee in cool droplets, immensely relieving. lee’s mouth is latched onto your neck, kissing and sucking as she plays with your g-spot, pressing it lightly in, while her palm curves just right against your stiff clit.

from your encouragement, and perhaps the tight, moist space of the shower, she’s gotten bolder. against your skin, she murmurs, “such a good girl. getting so loose and open. so easy, mm?”

you cry out at her lewd words. as embarrassed as it makes you to match the dirty nature of them, you can’t resist. you want more of this from her, and something about her pushing you to admit your most lustful desires out loud is irresistible. “fuck, can’t help it, you’re so hard on me.”

she huffs a quiet laugh, and the mocking edge to it has you writhing against her. “you think this is hard?” 

your pussy aches as she begins jamming her fingers into you harder and faster, brutally pressing against that sensitive spot in you, spreading you open to accommodate her. 

“this is hard,” she mutters, voice absent of feeling lest for the heavy breaths coating it. “how you’re gonna come is going to be hard.”

“I– you don’t know that. maybe–” 

a sharp gasp cuts into your words when she smacks your thigh, the noise of it loud and wet from the shower. her fingers immediately skim along the burning spot, which is sizzling with sensitivity. “okay?” 

you nod. fuck, ‘okay’ didn’t even cover it.

she nods back. “now, what were you saying before?”

you’re at a loss of words, and take several long seconds before responding. “I said that, um, you don’t kno–”

she delivers another swift swat to your ass, and your body arches against her, nails digging into her strong back. she hisses at the feeling of it, pulling you plush to her body before grabbing the spot she just hit, kneading it before slapping it again. they’re not harsh smacks, per say, but have enough of an impact to send your butt stinging delightfully. 

she makes you come just like that, one hand stroking and spanking your ass, while the other is buried in you, massaging your g-spot and coaxing whines, whimpers, and eventually, your orgasm out of you. it hits you hard, your slightly dizzy mind whirling into nothing but a focus on the sensations, the tension within your tummy snapping and sending a thick flood of warmth and tingles through you, from your guts to your toes. 

after one more orgasm is pulled out of you with the pressure of the shower head directed to your swollen clit, you’re back in lee’s room, impossibly comforted by the scent of her sheets pressed against your nose as you lie on your side, lee applying a thin layer of aloe vera to your aching skin. 

“you know, I’m not sure I wanna know exactly how you know to do this,” you giggle.

“I’m not sure you do either.” her fingers make massaging circles, slippery from the substance. 

you scoff, curiosity prickling at you. “you do realize that’s only going to make me more curious, right?”

she snickers, and you crane your neck to find her wearing an impish grin. “I know. that’s why I said it.” 

you grunt. “asshole.” 

“minutes ago, you were just singing me praises.”

you can’t help but laugh, feeling an itch of embarrassment dig at your stomach from the memory of how explicit you were earlier. “well, the shower sobered me up.” after a moment, you ask, “your ex from first year?”

“mhm.” 

you roll your eyes, amusement, tinged with slight jealousy, whirling in you. 

she runs a thumb over your warm skin. “was it too much, though?”

“what?” your head whips to her, concern squeezing your chest when you see her eyes fixed on a wrinkle in the bed, brows drawn in. “baby, no! it was perfect. really, it was. it felt, like, so good.”

her lips purse together. “okay.” 

you try to lie on your back, but wince at the feeling of the itchy sheets on your ass, which sends lee’s eyes darting up to you, wide and alert. her palm rests on the small of your back, gently pushing you back to your side. 

you tug on her wrist. “okay, well, sit closer to me so I can see you.”

she obliges, standing from the chair she was plopped on, and sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. eyes downcast, she absent-mindedly strokes you. her torso is still bare, skin warm and flushed under the light streaming from her window. you’ve noticed she’s quite comfortable with how she looks. shy and awkward when it comes to the vulnerability of being seen, that much is clear, but it doesn’t seem like those emotions are fused with any sort of self-consciousness. look at her now – a few weeks of having sex, and she’s completely open and at ease at being half-nude in front of you.

it’s not so easy for you to do the same. your relationship with your body has been non-linear, to say the least, and while you thought some of that would change upon being wanted by the girl who you’ve pined over for months, there are still bouts of self-doubt that plague you every now and then. sometimes, it comes during sex – a flood of anxiety-inducing thoughts about how you smell, taste, look at this angle or that angle. other times, it comes when she touches you, and you wonder if she likes what she feels. sometimes, just a glance from her is enough to trigger it. you know you shouldn’t care so much about her opinion, even if she’s the one you hold in your heart. but, you can’t help it. you want her to like you, you want her to be so attracted to you that it doesn’t fade to a full stop in the future.

the future. it’s still stomach-turning to think of sometimes. while things feel a lot more comfortable than they had weeks ago, there’s still a flicker of anxiety that burns brighter at moments where you least want it to show up. like now.

you try to ignore the thoughts, grasping her hand gently. “it was amazing. did you enjoy it?” 

“I did.” her eyes raise tentatively to you. “a lot.”

“yeah, you got really into it.”

she rolls her eyes, her mouth twitching. “I wouldn’t say… really into it.”

you guffaw, eyes squeezing through your laughter. “the state of my ass would say otherwise.”

“I see. I’m not yet well-versed enough with it to know its language.”

“something tells me you soon will be.”

she snorts, ducking her head away. “maybe.” after a small pause, still not meeting your gaze, she lowers herself to press a kiss to your back. “you did really good, too. thank you for all of this. it was really good.”

satisfaction carries a comforting weight in your stomach and you smile. “of course.”

✩

–

lee had been correct in her assumption. pride, like every other march, really is overwhelming. which she had anticipated, of course, having had requested a few hours alone in the morning just to mentally prepare, which you had been glad to give her, leaving her to stay in her room as you watched television and prepared dinner for later that evening.

it’s overwhelming in a myriad ways, some expected and others as a surprise. for one, it’s suffocating. people crowding in everywhere, hot, sweaty bodies pounding into her even when the two of you remain on the sidelines of the crowd. there’s music blasting on some speakers, her eyes feel like they can barely capture just how many textures and colours exist amongst all the clothes, and some of which she can confidently claim she hasn’t even seen before. bodies are so exposed that they have her immediately averting her eyes, pointed at the ground in embarrassment as seeing such intimate parts revealed. there’s loud chanting wrapped around her, screams and shouts of all octaves, while signs of different organizations are thrusted into the air, creating a layer of coloured blocks running through the top of the crowd. she knows it’s all for a good cause, and she’s glad to offer her own dose of support. but, visually, auditorily, she’s a mess.

so, it’s suffocating, yes. but, she also feels like for the first time, she can breathe. there’s no sense of the discomfort she once possessed at being a girl in her high school who didn’t want to wear a skirt and who didn’t look at boys. there’s no tightness in her chest from sitting in a church. there’s no fear at your touch. she knows that here, the rules she spent her entire life keenly aware of are bent, loosened, and maybe even completely dissipated. there are no boundaries of everyday life, and while rules and standards usually help to offer her a semblance of structure in a world she still doesn’t know how to navigate, and she usually is glad to use them as a guidepost, she doesn’t always agree with them. and here, in this hot, searing afternoon, they’re banished. it makes her feel both lost and like for the first time, every action of hers is ripped from obligation and the awareness of others’ eyes on her. it feels wrong, and off, but more freeing than she’s ever known. 

but, it all shatters. in just a singular moment. the march moves past a church, and she’s so weak that that’s all it takes. just a few church-goers standing on the steps, watching the crowd like prey. just the sight of one woman whose grey hair is like her mom’s.

her mom, whose eyes had widened in shock when she had caught lee lying with her girlfriend in her cramped up bed back in high school. her mom, who had never mentioned it again and acted like it didn’t even happen. her mom, whose feelings on the situation lee didn’t even know, but paired with her mother’s faith, the cross she wore on her chest, the reminders of sinning and praying, lee had felt casted to shame. her mom, whose evasion in the situation, just like with everything else, made lee never bring it up again. she almost preferred the unknowingness of the silence, rather than the confirmation of her mother’s disgust. maybe that’s presumptuous of her to assume, considering her mother’s silence may have just been stemmed from shock, or wanting to give lee privacy. but, lee doesn’t know and she isn’t ready to find out. not when just a flash of grey is enough to make her panic.

like it’s an instinct that’s stuck with her through all of evolution, something to tap into without a second thought, she lets go of your hand. 

when you jolt in surprise next to her, her body immediately floods with a sea of shame. her fingers twitch and ache for you to return, but she knows you won’t. not when she let go first. not when your own mind must be clouded with the confusion over what she just did. what is wrong with her? how did she ruin this so fast?

the frustration and embarrassment begins to wring out the bits and pieces of ease she felt just moments before, the crowd feeling hotter and more stifling than before. irrationally, her eyes burn, jaw clenched together as her mind becomes drowned in a whirlwind of thoughts, all of which are anxiously appointed to her, her mistake and how you must be feeling.

“can we, um…” she mumbles into your ear, voice trembling. “can we please move from the march for a second?”

your eyes widen, and she thinks you look concerned. she swallows hard. she doesn’t deserve your concern right now.

but, you give it nonetheless, nodding to a park and saying, “come on.”

you leave lee for a few minutes to head to the convenience store, your hands clutching water bottles and popsicles when you return.

as lee sucks on hers, red and bloody, she can’t help but thrum her fingers along her pants. she feels like a child, lost and needing to be consoled even though she’s the one who made an error. “thank you.”

“yeah, of course.”

of course. it’s always that. your care for her is an automatic, an unasked for response that’s drained of doubt or hesitation. it makes her feel all the more self-conscious of what just happened. you care for her so easily, and she couldn’t even manage to hold your hand for a full hour.

“I’m sorry. for letting go.”

“lee, babe–”

“I don’t know what happened,” she speaks, voice low. “I just saw the church, the people. and it felt like an instinct to hide.”

“that’s understandable, though,” you insist to her dismay. “you grew up hearing all sorts of stuff from the church.”

“I know, but I don’t want to hide now.” the words unravel on her tongue before she can think twice. the longer the silence passes after she says them, the more she realizes how true they are. she spent so long hiding away, reserving her love, her attraction, to shame-filled shadows and dirty corners. these past few weeks, she hasn’t known for certain if she wants you to touch her in public. but, for the first time, she’s realized that to limit your touches, and reserve them to privacy only, is to succumb to what she was before. it means going back to hiding herself through restricted grazes and the same four walls always encapsulating her and a lover. up until now, she hadn’t thought of it that way. how asking you to only touch her at home is going to drag her right back to the shame-filled secrecy she inhabited throughout most of her life. the secrecy that was so stifling, so overbearing, that she partially went to another city just to escape from. 

it all feels tragically wrong now, to think of hiding you away. to having you two resemble the life she led back in oregon. she doesn’t want you, another person she feels so strongly for, to become the shame she carries. “listen, I… I don’t know if I’d be able to hold your hand in, I don’t know, my hometown.” she sighs, the noise heavy. “but, I’d like to do it here. I’d like to do it more.”

you peel her hair behind her ear. “I know. it scares me too, you know? to touch publicly, be open. but, I try. to make it easier for others, to make it easier for us.”

“some people would say it’d make it harder for us.”

you frown, and she purses her lips together. she wishes she hadn’t said that. “if we know a place would be dangerous for us, we don’t have to. but, if we’re not in danger, I’d rather have the temporary discomfort than long term shame.”

temporary discomfort rather than long term shame. that’s really what it is, isn’t it? 

“I do, too.” she keeps her eyes locked onto the ground, mulling for a few moments before speaking again. she’d prefer to move past this, but she knows you deserve more than that. “I think what happened just now made me realize how much I… don’t miss the shame. and it made me realize how it’d feel to re-enter it. I can’t go back to it. and I don’t want you to ever feel that way either.” she hesitates, then raises her eyes to yours, forcing herself to hold your gaze. “if we’re safe, then I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to go back to how it felt before.”

you lean in, kissing the corner of her mouth. the safety the touch brings, the comfort – this feels like a touch that cleanses her of sin, that plunges her into water and runs through her until her body is whole.

maybe one day, she’ll be brave enough to be like this with you even if it isn’t safe. maybe one day, she’ll have the courage to bring you to her hometown and kiss you at the gas station, on the street leading up to the church. maybe the courage will outweigh the ridicule, the punishment she could face. but, even then, she doesn’t want to see you go through that. she doesn’t want to see you punished. 

“thank you,” she murmurs into the fabric of your shirt a half hour later. you smell like her detergent, and she inhales how it mixes with your scent over and over again.

the two of you have slowly become surrounded by more couples and friends, splayed on their backs or hunched over each other. the chatter is still too loud for her liking, but the longer you two remain there, the more it melts into a faded noise. the only things at the forefront of her senses are the cherry taste of the popsicle and the solid weight of your body. 

“what for?” you mutter. you’re on your back, hand stroking the strings of grass near her head. it takes her a moment to absorb your question, a tad distracted by how your eyes search hers. 

“for suggesting we come.” the march has been pretty draining on her, yeah, but it’s unlike anything she’s ever seen before. such an unadulterated sense of freedom, boundless expression. her whole life, she’s felt like an outsider, the feeling only expanded with each unorthodox decision she’s made. the aversion to femininity, the abandonment of religion, the entrance into law enforcement. but, here, it feels like any decision she makes is out of the shackles of expectations.

it makes it easier to lean down, her lips hovering just over yours. her chest is tense, for this kind of affection, kissing and more intimate touches, is something she prefers keeping private. but, who knows if she’ll ever get the chance to kiss you without the fear of others again?

and so, she plants her lips on yours, swallowing down the little huff of air that escapes your lips. one hand fists into the grass, while the other holds herself up, lips coaxing for you to open so that she can slip her tongue in. 

when your sigh gets pushed into her mouth, she swallows it down and leans over you further, shoulders loosening as she loses focus on the rest of the world for once. 

yeah, she doesn’t want to lose this feeling 

“when are you going back home?” you mumble into her neck a few long kisses later.

“our home?”

you laugh against her neck. “no, I mean, your home in oregon.” you push away, eyelashes fluttering up at her. “you call our place ‘home’?”

lee blinks down at you. she supposes she does. it happened so gradually that she completely missed it. but, somewhere amongst the tree that out-stayed its welcome, the movie nights, the blood stain she left on your bedsheets three weeks ago, the one you told her you’d be honoured to sleep next to, what was once just the apartment became home. “yeah.” she clears her throat, uncomfortable with being caught unexpectedly in such an exposing moment. “I do.”

“have you called any of your past places a home?”

“other than my house in oregon, no.” and even that she only continues to consider a home because she grew up there and her mom still remains. those two factors, embedded in her for what she presumes will be forever, form an unbreakable, metallic bond to her old town and rotting house. 

lee sighs, glancing down to you, and she nearly flinches when she sees the moisture in your eyes. “what… are you okay?” her stomach squeezes in anxiety. what did she do wrong? she mentally reviews the last hour. was the church thing affecting you now?

“yeah.” you sniffle, pressing your face into the sweaty skin of her neck. “I’m just happy you see our place in that way.”

lee’s mouth twitches. this is what you’re crying over? she’s not even sure what to say. “okay. are you okay?”

you nod against her, your hair tickling right under her chin. “I just – I… I really like you.”

her arm tightens around your shoulders, the confession making her feel completely thrown off her guard, unbalanced and toppling. it doesn’t make sense, but your outright declaration of your feelings, leaving nothing to the imagination, and your confidence in the words, make her overwhelmed. how can someone like her so much? how can it be so easy?

“thanks,” she responds feebly.

you gently thwack her stomach with a chuckle. “‘thanks’? that’s all I get?”

“I’ve already made my feelings… known. remember, five weeks ago, your bedroom, you had purple socks in your hands.” lee could practically recite the details of the moment like scripture, ingrained into her memory from her repetition of it during the week it occurred. 

“how do you remember my purple socks?”

“I don’t know, I just do.” if it were up to lee, she’d be able to remember anything and everything that happened since last september. sear it into her mind until she can open it up like a book whenever she wants to look back on anything that’s happened. she wishes she was powerful enough to secure all the details. but, she still manages a satisfactory amount. she remembers the top you wore when you two first met, the rough patch of skin that had remained on your skin for weeks during winter, the nervous laughter you gave during your presentation during finals season, the sight of your hand next to hers when you touched the tapes during your first visit to the video shop, the crackle of your voice when you first spoke on the phone before you had even met. somehow, almost as though her body had anticipated what would happen before her conscious mind did, you had been leaving imprints on her since the beginning. small flecks of you, your mannerisms, what you shared – they all remain collected in her mind. not all, unfortunately. but, enough to sate her. “you were fiddling with them.”

“was I really?”

“mhm.” it was cute. it made her feel a bit reassured, for you were evidently just as nervous as her. 

“you’re sweet for noticing it.”

she turns away from you, stroking her fingers over your top. “do you feel better?”

“much.” you peck her cheek. “now, back to before, when are you going back to your mom’s?”

“second week of august.”

“for how long?”

her lips fold in. she’s been trying not to think of it much. “three weeks. maybe a month if she needs me.”

you hum. “I’ll miss you.”

she silently presses a kiss to your head. it makes her feel slightly hollow to think of the weeks she’ll be away from you, your guys’ home, even that little christmas tree that has a plastic little umbrella hanging from it, courtesy of the restaurant you two had eaten at after her exam. unexpected as it is, what you guys have is now a home. it’s comfortable.

“thank you,” she pushes herself to say.

“again? what for?”

her eyes latch onto a drifting cloud, tinged with gold at the edges. “for… making the apartment a home.”

you fiddle with the material of her button-up. “you did that too, you know.”

lee isn’t really certain how. you got the tree, you spoke to her first, you were kind to her when all she really wanted was amicable silence. “not really.”

“yes, really. you wash my dishes, you make me coffee regularly, you’re a lot cleaner than I am so half of the time, the place is only standing because of you. you schedule in our movie nights and never miss them, you surprise me with tapes I mention. you’re just so sweet.” you kiss her neck. “really sweet.” another kiss, and lee’s hissing, face hot from the words and your affection.

“stop,” she whispers. “we’re still in public.”

“says the girl who just made out with me.”

“I had momentum.”

you press another wet kiss to her neck, and lee has to resist letting her hips flinch when you slowly suck on the spot. “so do I.” you let go of her neck with a pop. “but, before I get ahead of myself, thank you. for saying I helped make the apartment a home.”

lee needs a moment to digest and dim the pleasure aroused by your attention. “it’s just the truth.” she takes a moment mulling over what she wants to say next. it feels heavy on her tongue, but she lets the weight of it roll off. “I didn’t really think I’d get to have that. unless I lived alone.”

you face creases, lips tightening. she thinks you look upset. “why?” your tone is soft, soothing, as though you’re consoling a child.

“I don’t know.” she can’t meet your eyes, not like this. “I don’t think I’m easy to understand. not as in I’m special, but I just don’t fit… socially. not in the right way.”

“well, what even is the right way?”

she knows you’re trying to challenge her not to argue, but to prove to her that there’s nothing wrong with her. and while the effort is appreciated, lee knows it’s not viable. she’s spent enough years analyzing other people, taking careful observations of them so she could learn the right and wrong ways to proceed socially, to know that how she functions isn’t what’s natural for most. and it sets her apart, it makes her stick out when socializing is demanded of her. “I don’t know. but, it’s not me. I know it isn’t.” she sucks in a deep breath, forcing herself to keep going. she’d prefer not to, but she wants to try for you. “I keep waiting to finally reach a moment when I feel comfortable in the world, with people. but, it keeps not coming.” just as she had once told you on the subway, she’s lost – in this world, in trying to navigate it. though, at that time, there had been numerous ways she felt lost lingering on her mind when she said that.

“I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable. but, there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? sure, there are certain standards, but just because a standard is popular, it doesn’t mean it’s the right way to be. you’re a good person, and kind. and just because you don’t naturally model certain standards, standards that are arbitrary, anyways, doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you, lee.”

lee’s breath trembles as she digests your words. she knows, logically, all of that is true. she’s repeated similar notions to herself on more than one occasion. but, no matter the logic and objectivity behind it, you both still can’t change the fact that those standards do shape the world. and so long as she exists in this world, there’ll always be part of her that clashes with it. “I know. but, still, those standards mean something to a lot of people.”

“I know.” you lean on her shoulder, eyes light under the sun, carefully exploring her face. it makes lee’s stomach tighten in pressure. “but, just know there’s nothing wrong with you, okay? it’s fucked up if people make you feel anything different just because you don’t follow a certain standard. good people, right people, would never judge you for that. and with time, you’ll find more and more of those people. I’m sure of it. because you’re wonderful.”

she gulps down hard, shoulders shifting. the praise makes her feel like a blinding spotlight is pointed right on her, and it doesn’t feel easy to hear it. and while your words are comforting, she can’t say she minds the amount of people she already has in her life. amaya, maria, you. she’s always been pretty content with leading a solitary life, lest for the occasional moments of wishing for more companionship. so, three people is more than enough. she just wishes she didn’t struggle so much to navigate outside of those three people. not because she wants to interact, but rather because she simply wishes she could feel less uneasy when forced to do so.

“thank you. I just feel that I’ll always be uncomfortable in certain situations.” she pushes herself to look at you. “it’s okay.”

“yeah.” your voice is quiet, and she hopes she hasn’t deflated the hope you had approached the conversation with. “but, I’m here to talk when those moments occur, okay?”

she blinks at the lack of surprise your words ignite in her. her trust in you is that steady within her – your kindness not even surprising her anymore.

when she visits her friends that night, they’re stunned at the revelation of where she’s been.

“I gotta admit it, I never thought I’d see the day,” amaya chuckles, dicing the mushrooms for the pasta she’s making. 

“but, you weren’t pushed to go to it, right?” maria asks wryly, her eyes sliding to lee.

lee pauses in her peeling of the potatoes, her sigh short and tempered. “I wasn’t.”

maria’s face immediately flattens. “that wasn’t meant to be judgy.”

“it sounded like it.”

maria sighs, the creases on her forehead smoothing out. “it’s not, okay? ever since you told me how the whole ‘girlfriend’ situation was handled, I feel better about things. you got an apology and proper, honest communication. that’s good.”

lee uses her task to give herself some time to think. she’s glad to know that maria has warmed up somewhat, but she can’t help but be bitten by doubt over if her approval is truly secured. “but, you still don’t approve?”

“no, I do,” maria says, placing her fingers on lee’s wrist. “I’ve seen you both, and from what you’ve told me, things seem good. I just– I can’t help but still have a bit of a hawk eye sometimes.”

“why, though?” lee doesn’t enjoy being under the microscope of anyone’s scrutiny, especially from her friend and especially regarding her own relationship. even if she’s relieved maria approves, she doesn’t want these tidbits of doubt casted onto her.

“because you’re my friend.” maria’s hand tightens, and lee’s twitches in response. “I’m just protective, and I want to make sure things are okay.”

“things are okay,” lee presses. “and even if they ever get… not okay, trust that I will take care of it.”

maria purses her lips, and lee knows her well enough to know it’s a sign of some internal resistance. but, finally, she nods, eyes boring into hers. “okay, yeah, you’re right. I trust you.”

it’s three words, but lee knows maria wouldn’t say anything she doesn’t mean. and so, with a sigh, she pats maria’s hand and lets go. she wishes maria’s reluctance wasn’t there, and she knows it doesn’t deserve to be there, but all she can do is hope that maria will change soon enough. 

it’s what you deserve.

–

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

seven words, and it’s enough to send you into a panic.

it all started when you and lee had gone to amaya, maria, and amaya’s sister, thuraya’s, apartment earlier that evening. you guys had been doing that a lot lately, since lee had relayed to you that amaya was planning to travel with her boyfriend for the next six months after graduation. you know how heartbroken lee is, even if she doesn’t admit it herself. her eyes keep wandering down whenever you mention amaya, and when leaving their apartment today, lee lingered in amaya’s hug for many long moments, holding onto her tight. 

you were touched by the moment, you really were, but something kept gnawing at your mind, lurking in a corner and ticking you with a bothersome finger.

you, amaya, maria and lee had been seated on the floor in their living room, legs crossed and folded as you guys dipped and shared out of the bowls on the table. the conversation had strayed to lee’s approaching visit to her mom’s, and maria had said, “it’s not gonna be stifling there, right?”

your eyes had immediately darted to lee. you know she doesn’t have a good relationship with her mom, and your stomach turned in worry.

lee’s mouth pinched together. “I mean, it will be. but, I should still go. it’s what’s right.”

“has it gotten worse?” amaya asked, dark eyebrows drawn sympathetically as her hand went to lee’s knee.

“yeah. it does everytime.”

“she doesn’t touch your room, though, right?”

lee nodded.

and all you could do was sit there, feeling utterly drained of knowledge. you had thought lee’s previously mentioned unwellness of her mom was what amaya was speculating about. but, then, what did lee’s room have to do with it? 

“I don’t know how you do it,” maria mumbled, dipping another corn chip into the salsa. “I’d go crazy there.”

“okay, let’s maybe try positive thinking,” amaya said, flashing maria a tight, mocking smile. “at least you get to see your mom, lee. she deals with so much.”

you swallowed hard. you had come to that same conclusion based on what lee has said, weeks ago, but it sounded like maria and amaya knew exactly what lee’s mom dealt with, whereas the details are lost on you. all lee had said was that she was unwell, but you knew none of the nuances or events laced into that.

it only stung more when amaya’s eyes flicked to you, clearly catching sight of your scrunched eyebrows and wide eyes. her glance shifted to lee, who was still staring down at her knees, then turned back to you with an awkward chuckle. “oh, um, sorry.”

lee’s head sharply raised at that, but as soon as you looked at her, she ducked her head to the side. that only made your stomach sink further.

back at home, you sat on lee’s bed, trying to bite back the stinging jealousy at not knowing as much about lee as her friends, fused with burning curiosity and a slight desperation. but, it was no use. your mind was whirling with questions, flashing through the tidbits of information lee has left scattered through the past year, trying to see if you can make anything of them. some pieces were lodged into place – lee doesn’t have a good relationship with her mom, there’s something up with her mom, it seems to have been just the two of them growing up. they’re from oregon. you sigh. it’s not enough, you need to know more. all the information you have seems to be just on the surface, without reason, without explanation. 

and so, you ask, “lee?” 

“hm?” she hums, tugging her shirt off, revealing her plain pink bra. you try not to go silent for too long, eyes unable to resist wandering along her freckled chest, then the dip of her cleavage. something feels so secretive, so mischievous, about seeing your girlfriend undressed and revealing the slopes and crevices of skin she usually keeps hidden. you want to worship her body, show her how much you cherish her trusting you like this.

but, maybe for another time. “um,” you start, trying to shake yourself out of the distracted lull. “I wanted to ask, lee, what’s going on with your mom?”

she freezes, shirt hanging from her wrist as she slowly slides it free. “this is about what amaya said?”

you gulp, suddenly seized with guilt. it makes you feel small, to know these questions have only been aroused by someone else knowing her better than you. you’ve always been curious to learn of her, of course you’ve been, but it’s like that conversation with amaya and maria slapped in your face just how little you know. before then, what with how slowly lee opened up, you were content with the pieces of herself she had gifted you. and you were under the impression that these were all the tidbits she could manage. but, now, knowing other people know more than you do makes you feel like it’s no longer enough, and that there’s more she ought to share. if she was able to confide in other people about more of this situation, why were you still left in the dark? you're curious to know more, and now that you know she very much can share it, you want to be part of that.

“I guess. but, I guess I didn’t realize just how little I know until I had to compare it to someone else. before, I felt like I knew a lot more, and now, it’s like I’m realizing I don’t.”

she sighs through her nostrils, a small puff of air exiting as she folds her shirt. “you do know a lot.”

a flicker of annoyance burns in you. “well, clearly not that much. and I’d like to know more. it’s an important part of you.”

her dresser makes a piercing screech as she drags it open, and you wince. “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“lee, you practically recoil whenever I bring it up! it’s clearly a big thing for you, and I want to know.”

“for my sake, or your own?”

you flinch, a stab of hurt digging through your skin. “what does that mean?”

“you’re asking because my friends know more,” she plainly states, her nude back turned to you as she unhooks her bra.

you splutter, indignant anger running through you, hot and boiling. “that’s not fair, lee. I’ve always cared, I’ve always asked. I’m just asking this now because hearing amaya made me realize I actually know a lot less than I thought I did. sure, there might be some jealousy involved, but like, it’s also about wanting to know more about my girlfriend now that I know she’s capable of sharing it with others.”

“well, I’ve known them longer than you.” her tone is flat, even, and too calm for your liking, especially when compared to the way yours quivered moments before. “you don’t need to be jealous, it’s to be expected that they know more and that I’ve shared more.”

“yeah, well, trust shouldn’t be measured by time, it’s just trust.”

“I do trust you,” she firmly says, placing her folded shirt into an open drawer. “but, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“ever?” the idea makes you feel a wretched sort of nausea. god, what does it mean if she never shares this with you? what does it mean that she’s hesitating at all? did you do something? have you been a bad girlfriend? is this because of your doubts from the night you guys got together? you’re her girlfriend, that should carry at least some weight, some level of unwavering trust. right? when you guys were friends, it was okay, it was normal for these things to take time. but, being romantically involved usually changes that. and the fact that it’s not changing makes you feel jolted, dizzy with fear and spinning thoughts. 

“not never. just not tonight.” her voice is quiet, but it’s steady and clear in her desires. 

“but, why? do you not trust me?”

“I said I did.”

“then, why don’t you want to tell me?”

her fingers curl onto the edge of the dresser, her grip tight. “it’s just… a lot. for me. I’m not ready to explain it all yet.”

you pause, the edges of your irritation softening. to hear her make such a vulnerable confession, and absolve your responsibility in it, makes you feel both relieved and sympathetic for her. you want to touch her, press your mouth to her back, which is still naked. but, the back and forth from moments before, the first one you two have ever seriously had, makes you feel silted and awkward. anxiety pulses through you at the thought of her being mad at you.

“I’m just…”

she grabs a flimsy t-shirt from her drawer, tossing it on, the motion musing her ponytail. “you should trust me, too, to go at my own pace.”

“I do! but, it’s hard to feel comfortable with you keeping this to yourself, and like, downplaying it when that’s clearly not the case. and, you know, bringing up how you’ve known your friends longer. it makes me feel, then, like it’s a me-thing.”

“it’s not.” her fingers rasp on her thigh. “but, I can’t keep assuring you of that. not when you’re pushing me this much.”

“I’m not–”

“I need some time alone.” her head tilts in your direction, sharp jaw clenched, eyes still avoiding you. “please.” 

your eyes begin to sizzle with tears, humiliation gnawing at your stomach. she’s never pushed you away like this, so this is new territory, painfully unfamiliar. she’s asked you for time alone before, yes, and you’ve been happy to give it to her. but, not in a moment fresh with pain. you want to latch onto her, press your face into her shoulder and cry, beg her to stay. because you need her in this raw, wounded moment. because in this moment, the question prodding at your mind despairingly is: is this a sign she’s tired of you?

but, you don’t want to hold on too tight. you don’t want to tire her even more if that’s what’s happening.

“I… okay.”

you weep into your pillow immediately upon entering, the yellow colour of it becoming soaked in your tears. you wish you were better than this, to not be reduced to tears just because she asked for space. it’s not like it’s even a ton of space, considering she’s right down the hall. and you know it’s fair for her to ask for that space, to need it. but, for the first time, you’re restricted from her room, her presence. and maybe it’s because it’s the first time such a thing has happened, but it’s stifling. the reminder of what happened seizes you with a death grip, forcing you down a trail of ugly thoughts about if she wants you a little less now.

it tumbles into flashes and recollections of past experiences. moments where time with past romantic partners, or well, whatevers, winded in mistreatment, distance, pushes away – anything that ended up making you wonder what exactly you had done to deserve this. lee isn’t being cruel, the rational part of you knows that. but, in the extremity of your emotions, you can’t help but get thrown down the rabbit hole, plagued with the thoughts that maybe she’s tired of you and wants time away from you because of that. that maybe you’ll lose her just like everyone else. or she’ll come to see you as a bit less worthy of good treatment now.

beneath it all, is guilt. you flip the argument in your mind over and over again, and with time, you begin to wince at all the times you pressed, even after lee made it clear your insecurities weren't why she was evading telling you. you don't know what she's been through, nor how pressured your pushes might've been making her. maybe you should've been more gentle about it.

you fall asleep early that night, eyes blotchy and swollen, head tense, and body wound up with the need to pee, but too drained to move.

at midnight, a soft knock comes to your door, and you stir lightly. 

lee doesn’t wait before entering your room, her bare feet softly hitting the floor as she slowly moves to your bed. your room is pitch black with the lack of a window, and you can just barely make out her face until she crouches next to you. you meekly watch her, soft blanket curled to your chin. 

“hey,” she quietly whispers. her eyes aren’t on you.

and that, pathetically, lovingly, breaks you even more in that moment. you sniffle, a tear not hesitating to escape the confines of your eye.

lee’s eyes flicker up and widen at the sight. “hey, hey.” she leans in closer, pressing her chin to the fold of your blanket, her breaths brushing your skin. her eyebrows, so dark you can catch sight of them even without light, are wrinkled in concentration, her shining eyes watching you intently. “baby, I…”

“sorry,” you choke out, pressing your face into the pillow. 

“no, no, don’t.” she leans in, fingers ghosting your forehead, her head shaking. 

but, you can't stop, each hard blink releasing a new stream of tears, small sobs bubbling in your throat. “are you sick of me?”

she draws in a loud, harsh breath, head tilting. after a moment of silence, she mutters, “can I come into your bed?”

after all the nights you two have shared in it, you’ve forgotten that it’s technically just yours to begin with. and god, did you miss her tonight, even if it was just three hours. you shuffle to where the bed is braced against the wall, and lee slides in and arranges her pillow so easily, as though you guys have vowed to sleep in this bed every night.

you gulp when she immediately presses the front of her body to yours, her hand cupping your cheek, forehead nudged against yours. “I won’t ever be sick of you.”

“you don’t kno–”

“I do.” her breaths are shuddering now, shaking at the edges. “I’m sure of it.”

you continue crying, small noises bursting from your mouth as your body shakes. lee leans in, her lips capturing every tear as she murmurs, “I’m here.”

“how do you know you’ll never get sick of me?”

“because I… I just won’t. I know I won’t. I know it’s hard, but trust me. I won’t.”

the word trust reignites a flood of memories of the argument, and you cough on the dryness of your throat, embarrassment crawling through you as you say, “I’m sorry. for pushing before. I do trust you to go at your own pace, and I want you to. I just got scared. that you not wanting to talk about it meant you didn’t trust me. or that we’d never reach a place of you telling me.”

 she smoothes a palm over your hip, remaining in silence for a few moments, clearly absorbing your words. after a few moments, she speaks, voice quiet and hushed. “I do trust you. and we will talk about it soon.”

“soon?” 

“yeah, soon. I didn’t want to talk about it because it’s… hard for me. but, I do want to share it. and you should know.”

“I don’t want it to just be done out of obligation.”

“it won’t. it’s… a lot for me. but, I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like something is missing.”

you sigh. while the thought process definitely considers you, and is sweet in nature, you want her to share because of reasons not so focused on you. “but, I want you to tell me because you want to. not because you just don’t want me to feel bad.”

she nods. “I know.” the stroke of her thumb slows to a stop. “but, it’s not only about wanting to help you feel like you understand me. I also… like being understood by you. and I don’t want things unspoken between us. that never works.”

your emotions feel even more heightened at her words. lee wants you to understand her, and she wants to be specifically understood by you. that feels like an honour. “but, you want to tell me even if you don’t want to talk about it?”

“if it was easy for me to talk about, I would.” she sounds so timid, her voice small in the gentle confession. “I avoid it because it’s…”

“painful?” 

her face flinches. “amongst other things.”

tears slowly subsiding, your eyes explore her face. she looks like she’s shrunk from talking about this, shoulders hunched and body curled like a child. it makes your stomach whirl into a knot and tighten in equal parts sympathy and worry as to what she went through.

“just… only do it when you’re ready,” you whisper, the back of your hand lifting to graze her cheek.

she catches your wrist and bows her head down to your fingers. a trembling kiss meets your knuckles, and she says against them, “I’m sorry. if I hurt you before.”

and the tears rush back, the reminder of her hard tone making you want to bury your face against her. 

lee’s bottom lip gets caught beneath her small teeth, and she quietly watches you cry. “I… I shouldn’t have said you only wanted to know because my friends knew. it was a wrongful misjudgement. I thought at the time it was right, but it isn’t.”

“yeah.” the word comes out croaky and dry. you feel like the amount of tears you’ve shed has drained your body of all its replenishing water. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. or thought it. not when you’ve always been so… curious.” after a pause, she quickly adds, “not in a bad way.”

“are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

her acknowledgement of the stinging words helps to relax some of the unease in your stomach. but, there’s still one more thing you need to bring up. “it, um, it hurt me when you told me that you can’t assure me anymore.”

“why did that hurt you?”

you wince. “what do you mean?”

“I tried assuring you, but you didn’t accept it, so I said I wouldn’t anymore. I don’t understand why it’s hurtful.”

the only thing stopping you from feeling completely crestfallen is the fact that it doesn’t sound like she’s criticizing you, but is rather genuinely trying to figure out what you’re feeling.

“it made me feel like, I don’t know, like there’s a limit to the assurance you’d give me. which, like, yeah, I get if there is with extreme amounts. but, in that moment, it was just hard for me to feel like you trust me with the stuff you said. so, it scared me, and I needed you.”

“but, I had already told you I trusted you. I didn’t understand the point of repeating myself.”

“because I was still worried, lee. I mean, you know, that sort of anxiety doesn’t always make sense, it doesn’t always just… go away. sometimes it stays even after reassurance, and in that moment, it was staying. especially because I was still worried over stuff you had said before.” your voice lowers towards the end, praying she doesn’t feel attacked by you saying these things.

when she says nothing, you inadvertently squirm in discomfort, hoping your requirements weren’t too much. 

lee’s arm around you tightens, and she mutters, “you’re right. I’m sorry.”

you stare at her, a touch of surprise rippling through. “really?” 

she nods. “yeah. you felt anxious, and I should’ve been there.”

“I mean, you were.”

“yeah, but completely. without conditions or a limit.” her face is tight in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said I won’t give you assurance. I…” she sighs, gulping hard. “I need to be better.”

“but, you’re already great, lee.” 

she sighs, and without a word, leans in to kiss you. the salty drops of your tears drip and curl around your lips, giving the kiss a sour taste. but, it’s so sweet in the tenderness, so sweet in the way lee pours affection into it.

when she parts from you, breaths heavy, she whispers, “even if you feel that way, still, I’ll do better.”

“so will I,” you say, the promise surprisingly weightless on your tongue. 

for it’s easy, really, to want to do better for her.

----

a/n: so, as I mentioned before, tumblr was being a little bitch and not letting me post the whole of summer's part two, meaning I had to divide the summer chap yet again, making it now three parts (which is why this one ends so abruptly ;-;). so, this post is the second part, and honestly, I might just post the third part super soon bc I've made you guys wait long enough as is KDJSKDJ (in 2-3 days most likely, if you want to be tagged lmk through comments or asks <33)

please please pleaseeee let me know what you think, whether it be through comments or anons, since it does really boost my motivation + confidence ahhh, and truly, I'm always so curious and eager to hear what you guys think when I post something <33 I hope you all enjoyed this chap mwah mwah

[all-that-glitters-is-goldfish]

Do you have a favorite Criminal Minds episode?

bestie I wanted to wait until I was done season 15 to answer this so I can make you a full list, because it's impossible for me to pick just 1!! (Also I haven't seen evolutions yet, so this does not include episodes from season 16)

My favourite episodes:

Season 1:

L.D.S.K.- episode 6

Derailed- episode 9

The Popular Kids- episode 10

Season 2:

P911- episode 2

The Boogeyman- episode 6

Empty Planet- episode 8

The Last Word- episode 9

Season 3:

Scared to Death- episode 3

Seven Seconds- episode 5

A Higher Power- episode 15

Elephant's Memory- episode 16

Season 4:

The Angel Maker- episode 2

Minimal Loss- episode 3

The Instincts- episode 6

Memoriam- episode 7

Masterpiece- episode 8

Bloodline- episode 13

House on Fire- episode 19

A Shade of Grey- episode 21

The Big Wheel- episode 22

Amplification- episode 24

Season 5:

Cradle to Grave- episode 5

The Eyes Have It- episode 6

The Uncanny Valley- episode 12

Risky Business- episode 13

Parasite- episode 14

Mosley Lane- episode 16

Season 6:

Devil's Night- episode 6

Middle Man- episode 7

Corazon- episode 12

The Thirteenth Step- episode 13

Coda- Episode 16

Season 7:

Proof- episode 2

Painless- episode 4

Epilogue- episode 6

True Genius- episode 11

I Love You, Tommy Brown- episode 17

Foundation- episode 18

Divining Rod- episode 21

Season 8:

Through the Looking Glass- episode 3

God Complex- episode 4

The Wheels on the Bus- episode 8

Perennials- episode 11

All That Remains- episode 14

Nanny Dearest- episode 21

Season 9:

The Return- episode 8

Mr. & Mrs. Anderson- episode 15

What Happens in Mecklinburg- episode 21

Season 10:

A Thousand Suns- episode 3

Hashtag- episode 7

Breath Play- episode 17

The Hunt- episode 23

Season 11:

Entropy- episode 11

Drive- episode 12

Hostage- episode 14

Inner Beauty- episode 20

Season 12:

Sick Day- episode 2

Taboo- episode 3

Keeper- episode 4

The Anti-Terror Squad- episode 5

Scarecrow- episode 8

Spencer- episode 13

Assistance is Futile- episode 16

True North- episode 19

Unforgettable- episode 20

Season 13:

Wheels Up- episode 1

Killer App- episode 4

Believer- episode 22

Season 14:

300- episode 1

Starter Home- episode 2

Rule 34- episode 3

Tall Man- episode 5

Ashley- episode 8

Hamelin- episode 12

Season 15:

Awakenings- episode 2

Spectator Slowing- episode 3

Ghost- episode 5

Date Night- episode 6

[volcanocraft]

hi how are you feeling about this life series season? :D

can you believe that they kept going in the same direction despite trying to shake eachother off. both with joel offering sticks and gem denying it so he mutters "guess we're not teaming then" and gem saying "ill mine this way and we'll go our own seperate ways" and end up magnetizing anyways. like they literally would not leave eachother alone.

then the mild seperation anxiety joel has when he can't find gem in the mines ("gem where have you gone?" "im right here, im just mining"). his weird admission of going crazy with the cows when separated from gem for a few minutes. and then you have gem going "come on then joel" and telling him to be careful and not die... laughing at his blunders and making light fun of him

then the domesticity of immediately bunking down. gem building a campfire and joel calling it cute. they split and share everything 50/50. they have signs outside their door with quotes on them

theyre so inherently suspicious. scott thinks theyre either going to take over the server or implode. multiple pairs go to their base and try to take some of their cows. joel gets so mad and gem deescalates. jimmy accuses joel of malicious intentions. then they lick their wounds together complaining that everyones always blaming them but at least they can rely on eachother

joel ending the episode saying he and gem will win. and the only other person hes shown interest in trying to recruit is his wife. something something my two favourite people in the same room.

both povs are a mandatory watch to get the whole picture. because they cut a lot out, and leave in other moments, and that says a lot about what interactions matter to them personally. shoutout jeffery

the entire first episode is just boy best friends slow burn yaoi with freudian slips of vulnerability and affection. i think im going to be sick

[miley1442111]

criminal minds masterlist :)

----------------------

aaron hotchner

the problem with arguing

you and aaron run into some trouble at home, what happens when you're taken by an unsub?

breaking rules mr.hotchner? (part 2) better than ok

what happens when you and aaron are left after work alone? (and) surely he'll visit you in hospital, right?

unfair unfair part 2

my take on: season 3 episode 20- Lo-fi

i don’t even know you anymore part 1 part2

aaron is there for you after you spencer break up, romance ensues.

motherly instincts

aaron's overbearing mother makes a comment about your postpartum body, he doesn't react well.

slowly

aaron is there for you during the one of the most difficult times of your life.

fix it | fix it together

what happens when you and aaron are arguing and he compares you to haley, and worse, brings up an annulment?

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

based on the song by taylor swift

fresh out the slammer

based on the song by taylor swift

jealous?

you were to supposed keep you relationship a secret, what happens when a certain doctor develops a crush on you?

guilty as sin?

based on the song by taylor swift

no promises

aaron has to save you from an unsub before it's too late.

safe

you are a victim of an unsub and aaron finally has to tell the team something.

office couch

you and aaron spend some time on his office couch… (18+)

nervous night

aaron is there for you when a night with your sister turns sour.

opening night

aaron misses your opening night, he forgot all about it.

insomniac

how aaron helps with your insomnia episodes.

a great start

how you and aaron end up together after a hostage situation

pinky promises

how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out almost 20 years later.

who did this to you?

aaron gets quite the surprise after a mission

telling him

jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.

drunk confession and the morning after

aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.

aaron's admissions last night ended in a proposal in the car. not exactly romantic, but oh well

always

sharing a hotel room forces feelings to the surface.

clingy

aaron acts quite differently with his wife around, which causes eyebrowns to raise and feelings to start getting hurt.

the picture

a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

birthday fights & other lies

aaron forgot your birthday which spirals into something much deeper.

cookies

you're the cute barista he sees everyday.

shocker

you have some news for your husband.

insecurity

aaron starts to overthink and doesn't realise how it's impacting the relationship.

safe

aaron had to make sure you're safe, can he get to you in time?

birthday break

aaron almost misses your birthday

protective

aaron (literally) fights for you

believe me aaron is there for you during a particularly difficult case. (18+)

----------------------

spencer reid

thank god for dr. spencer reid

spencer saves you from your shitty family

i don't even know you anymore (part 2) i don't even know you anymore

your breakup with a cheating spencer and the aftermath with hotch

you were right

your husband accepts an invitation on your behalf

in sickness and in health

spencer is there for you when your sick, even with the germs

i’d say yes

is spencer asking you out? you'd say yes.

the tortured poets department

based on the song by taylor swift

stalker

spencer's there for you when the unsub is your hometown stalker, who's still obbessed with you

spencer x gender neutral model!reader

headcanons with spencer and a model reader :)

weird facts

you finally meet spencer's friends/team, only thing is, they don't know you exist.

relief

when spencer can't get to you in time, waking up leads to the team finding out about a few things. Like, you're married. And something else...

mutism

how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together

transfer

how your sudden transfer forces certain feelings to the surface

i wanna kiss you on the mouth

both of you are completely unaware of your feelings, but you speak too loudly and your feelings are confessed.

who’s afraid of little old me?

based on the song by taylor swift

saving you

spencer has to save you before it’s too late

hair tie

spencer's hair is getting too long

the fifth kiss

lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

you make me happy

spencer acts quite differently around you and it shocks the team

all alone

spencer doesn't want to get hurt, too bad it hurts you in the process

the joys of a workplace relationship

a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

confession

spencer's birthday was supposed to be fun for him and his girlfriend, what happens when his mentor (his girlfriends father) shows up at his door?

picking

spencer notices one of your issues, and is determined to fix it.

broadway baby

a secret gets out

revealed

derek tricks you both, uh oh

don’t dwell

you and spencer reconcile after a bad case

controlled turns out spencer doesn't hate you...

under pressure endings are bittersweet...

----------------------

derek morgan

friendly fire

you and derek don't get along very well

high maintenance

you're told your high maintenance, you set out to prove it's not true, it goes badly.

my girl

derek is there to wash your insecurities away (tall reader x derek morgan)

take down

you take down an unsub threatening your husband, derek morgan

labour

derek has to do something when you're three days past your due date (18+)

----------------------

series

pride: you, a bau team member are faced with quite the choice when both aaron hotchner and spencer reid are interested in you, but what will happen when a family emergency calls them into action? And which will you choose?

part 1, (in progress)

----------------------

birthday blues: spencer, your boyfriend makes a choice that cuases something in your relationship to break. can he even fix it?

part one part two(in progress)

----------------------

regrets: spencer, your fiancè comes home from prison and an amalgamation of your grief and his causes the collapse of your relationship. Fast forward five years and the question still stands, can he fix it?

part one | part two (in progress)

----------------------

insomniac au: your life with aaron and jack, working with your insomnia

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1) treatment plan (part 2)

aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

[prettymonegasque]

not acceptable

Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader

Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb

Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?

Word Count: 1.3k

Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek

In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season. 

Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend. 

You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese. 

“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.

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

For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy. 

When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.

“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.

You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this. 

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

“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was. 

“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.” 

“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”

“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.” 

You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted. 

“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered. 

“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door. 

You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.

 “Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”

“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.” 

“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest. 

“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.”   

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi could u write max x sunshine desi reader where she is his teammate and everyone (all drivers and team principles)adores her and she is known for wearing saris to events and award ceremonies and max and her having a grumpy x sunshine trope

Also like pr games for insta or smthing where he pronounce hindi words or muhavare and its cutee and fans love them!!!!!

I loved superstitions!!!!

Swear Words ✧˚ · .

Summary: Based on the anon's request!

⟿ mv x desi!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

⟿ fluff ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

masterlist ☾☼

max was not grumpy. he was fun, and he was slightly unhinged, but he was not grumpy. though, in comparison to his teammate, y/n, everyone else seemed grumpy. she was quiet literally sunshine embodiment.

the two had been teammates for two seasons now, and everyone loved her. as they should. secretly, max also loved her. he would never say it out loud, though.

his favourite thing about her was the way she dressed up for any and all non-race event. she was always in a kurta or a sari. max had not known what her attire was called till he heard her talking about it once to charles' girlfriend. he could have done the sensible thing and just asked her himself, but finding out the way that he had done was easier.

max and y/n's relationship had really changed from teammates to more after max had attempted to anonymously gift her a sari for an event. y/n had looked radiant, max was speechless, and the rest was history for them.

it was during one of the PR events where max had gotten unhinged again and cursed a few times. the managers were furious, but she could tell that he didn't really give a fuck. to save him from future scoldings, y/n had come up with a plan that she really thought could save him.

"max," she called out.

"yes, my love,"

"i'm going to save you from future pr nightmares," she said confidently.

max laughed, "right, okay. how are you going to do that?"

"you're always getting in trouble for saying swear words on live tv. what if you say them in a language people don't understand?" there was a glint in her eyes that told max that she was going to be trouble. but, he loved her for it.

"how are we going to do that?"

"baby, i come from a country where we have a wide range of swear words. we've got different categories too."

max laughed. he did that more around her. he would never let anyone from the outside world see or know that.

"i'm serious! we've got swear words for moms, sisters, animals, body organs, animal body organs. you name it, and we probably have it!" y/n insisted.

"okay, okay, i believe you. teach me some of the words, and i'll see if it works for me,"

y/n clapped her hands in excitement, and began going through her list, explaining their meaning.

max had never been more in love.

a few months later, when the desi f1 fans caught what was happening, they made a compilation video. it consisted of every hindi swear word that max had said in interviews and such, with y/n laughing in the corner, and the interviewer being absolutely clueless on what was being said. the video had compiled all of those moments with the least to worst swear words, purposely not adding the meanings to keep the rest of the world confused.

it was a long time before anyone else, especially the red bull pr managers caught on, and only then did y/n get yelled at for the first time by them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

this is the first max verstappen imagine I've written! idk if this is what you wanted, anon, but honestly, I couldn't see max saying muhavre and stuff, but I could see him saying a lot of curse words in hindi, so I went with that! also, I love the fact that when I went on Pinterest to look for pictures of max, almost every picture was of him smiling or laughing. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[leahsgf]

LIFESAVER - leah williamson

leah williamson x child!reader | based on this request!

leah sighed as she awoke to the sound of your cries ringing through the baby monitor for what felt like the tenth time that night, wincing even more when she checked the time - it of course being only five minutes before her alarm was due to go off, only her luck.

you were usually a pretty good sleeper, and rarely cried in general, never mind throughout the night - so she had known almost instantly the first time you had awoken that you were feeling under the weather, and her worries had only proven right as the night had gone on and your state had worsened.

and again, as if it was part of a well planned routine, your cries only intensified when she eventually padded across the hallway and pushed open the door to your room, your little arms immediately throwing themselves up towards her, desperately in search of any form of comfort.

she bent down and scooped you out of your crib, cradling you in her arms in an instant, never one to deny you her embrace.

“i’m here sweetheart, i’ve got you. what’s the matter hm? can you tell mama?” she soothed for what felt like the hundredth time, running her hand through your bed head, voice so gentle that no outsider would believe it was the same stoic england captain they were so used to if they witnessed it.

you simply whined, more tears angrily slipping down your noticeably red cheeks as you buried your face into her neck, whimpering - her feeling warmth radiating off of you like a heater.

she had picked up on your temperature over the night and had kept an eye on it, and whilst it had definitely now started to come back down, she could tell that you still weren’t feeling great. she could guess based on how sniffly your cries had become, paired with the level of sick you'd been over the course of the night - that you’d picked up the latest nasty bug, most likely from your nursery, despite you only going there once or twice a week.

the nursery that you now wouldn’t be able to attend for the next forty eight hours whilst your mother went to training.

usually, leah wouldn't even hesitate to call jonas and let him know that she wouldn't be able to make it to training - you were her number one priority always, but of course, the one day you get ill happens to be the one day of the season that leah can't miss, or arrange for somebody to look after you at home.

meaning she'd have to bring you with her.

“okay my bubba. we’re gonna make you all better in no time, kay? you're gonna be my little helper for the day and come to work with me, and see all your aunties! they'll be so excited to see you.” she chatted away to you as she made her way down to the kitchen - prepping your morning bottle and fetching you some 'magic' medicine, whilst bouncing you gently in her arms.

you settled finally as you drank, clutching onto the bottle for dear life as leah stroked your forehead, it’s temperature finally going down to somewhat normal as the medicine started to kick in, your tiredness following, and catching up to you.

you were almost fast asleep as she bathed and changed you into some fresh, non sicky clothes, texting the arsenal group chat as a pre warning of your previously unexpected arrival.

she was grateful to say the least when she looked in her mirror to see you still knocked out in your car seat as she drove to the training ground - hoping that you finally getting some rest in meant that you were on the up, and that you'd wake up feeling better again.

“come on then my girl, let’s go see everyone then shall we” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your head as she unbuckled and lifted your sleeping frame into her arms, slipping your dummy into your mouth and grabbing your blanket, before grabbing both of your bags and heading inside.

-

“there’s my favourite girl!” an unmistakable irish voice boomed down the corridor from behind the pair of you, leah wincing as you stirred ever so slightly - not wanting to deal with another repeat of this morning.

thankfully, no such thing happened - katie getting the hint after a single look from the blonde, and a slap on the arm from caitlin.

“shit, sorry! do you want us to take her whilst you go and speak to jonas and kim about the plan for the day? they said it won't take long today” katie whispered, already reaching out for you before she had an answer.

“you’re a lifesaver, thank you! i'll be as quick as i can - if she does wake up there’s anything she’ll need in her bag, but she should hopefully be out for a while.��� leah gently transferred you into katie’s waiting arms, a now well practiced routine with the team whenever they wanted baby cuddles and you were sleeping, and passed the aussie beside her your bag.

-

by the time you woke again, nearly four hours had passed - and you had been in pretty much everyone in the building's arms at some point or another as the team took turns doing drills.

your auntie viv was the lucky one this time, your eyes fluttering open slowly as she swayed with you wrapped up in her hold, humming a dutch lullaby. she was easily one of your favourite people, and had been for as long as you could remember, having cried in everybody else's arms apart from hers, the most awkward and freaked out person over holding a baby in the room, when you were a couple of weeks old.

"vivi" you mumbled, voice muffled by both your dummy and the sleep as you glanced up at her, playing with her fingers ever so softly.

"hi tiny, you feeling any better?" she asked, knowing that you probably had no idea what she was asking you, and that the fact you weren't crying was probably the best answer she was going to get.

you had perked up massively, some colour finally returning to your cheeks as your sleep clearly fought off whatever nastiness you had been feeling earlier on.

you babbled incoherently and pointed towards where alessia, katie and steph were chatting - another sign that you were definitely feeling a little bit more like yourself, wanting to be involved in what everyone was doing again.

the dutch woman placed you down on the floor as you wriggled and attempted to get down yourself, chuckling and following after you as you determinedly toddled over to the trio.

katie was the first to notice you and scoop you up, pretending that you were a rocket ship, making you squeal with laughter before steph had reminded her to be gentle with you. she only tickled you softly in response before placing you back down and letting you kick a ball to her and alessia, as steph rummaged through your backpack for a top up of medicine and a snack for you - knowing that you'd likely be starving.

the australian had very nearly been met with a complete meltdown when you'd spotted the medicine, it only being resolved because you saw lia stopping to get a snack and take her own medicine for her leg, letting you go and happily sit with her, thinking you were as cool as your auntie lia as steph popped the syringe of pink liquid into your mouth.

-

leah had been checking in on how you were doing every half an hour or so, and she had never been happier to see you run towards her when she caught your eye.

"hi my baby! how are you feeling?" she cooed, granting your wish to be in her arms immediately and fussing over you whilst thanking all of the girls for their help.

“she’s been good, slept like a champ and just had some more medicine - think she’s officially on the mend.” steph answered, grinning at you and playing with your hair as leah pressed kisses to your cheek.

you clapped your hands and cheered, not understanding the words but loving the attention that was on you - and how the horrible ache in your body had started to fade.

“alright then! we’re all done for the day so we’re gonna head off for some much needed rest - thank you girls for all of your help with this one. say bye to your aunties then bubba.” leah collected all of your stuff and waved goodbye - you copying her almost identically, as expected.

“bye bye.” you said as clearly as your dummy would allow, waving again at each of the girls individually, who had all gathered near you, their usual place whenever you were around.

“clumsy lessi.” you mumbled as you pointed at alessia, the rest room erupting in laughter just like every other time you said it, and the striker once again protested.

“she knows like ten words and those are two of them!”

"don't get mad at the baby for speaking the truth russo!"

[missysverse]

𝓦HAT I'VE SCRIPTED IN MY 𝓦AITING 𝓡OOM

Feel free to use for inspiration for yours - i'll try to update this post for more new ideas if anyone is interested.

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒:

✯₊˚༄ PORTAL ROOM — Each portal represents a different desired reality, with the name of the DR displayed on the arch above the portal. For example, one portal might read "Supernatural DR." When I step through a portal, I will instantly shift to the corresponding DR

✯₊˚༄ STUDY ROOM — a room where I can literally study for school relating to my CR, I have unlimited rescources available to me: textbooks, flashcards, notes all done (anything else I need I can literally just instantly manifest it), comfortable seating, big speaker I can use to play whatever music I want. I have a virtual AI tutor who can provide me detailed explanations for my subjects, orffer practice questions, mock tests, and instant feedback. I have an option to activate 'group study mode' where it will summon whatever people I want to If I want help with studying/get bored.

✯₊˚༄ THERAPY ROOM — Therapy room with Hannibal Lecter (he is not a cannibal or bad person is ANY way y'all.) He will give me good life advice, shifting advice etc anything I need help with - he knows me and my lifes well (only because I tell him about it), he also gives me good inspiration for scripting. He will also teach me a lot about neuroscience, psychiatry, psychology etc.

✯₊˚༄ LOUNGE ROOM — Here is where I can watch unlimited shows/films I want even if they don't exist in my CR e.g films I'm in from my fame DR, or completely new shows, or new seasons of my favourite shows that don't exist. There is also spotify on there and its the same concept as above - there are also playlists that are specific for my DRs and my relationships. There is also a section where I can go on that can play unlimited edits of me from my DRs, people from my DRs. All the edits are really well made and good. There are normal edits but also transition edits too. There is also a custom edit section where I can basically describe the edit and what song and it will make the edit. Not only that but I can also replay certain moments from my DR on the TV, I just have to think about the moment and then it can play or there are complimation videos of different moments from my DR. I also have unlimited games, books, vinyls.

✯₊˚༄ KITCHEN — literally where I can find unlimited food, any food I want will instantly manifest in the fridge.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒

credits to someone from reddit for some of these ideas (I'll try to find the post)

✯₊˚༄ LIFAGRAM — instagram but for shifters to access multiversally, I can share pictures and videos from my DR on here and can see other shifters. You want to share a cute picture of you and your friends to other shifters? well you can.

✯₊˚༄ SHIFTING SPACE — I have access to videos and photos from my DR and it is stored on my ‘Shifting Space’ and also just any moments from your DR, you can also share edits of your DR and yourself on here with other people

✯₊˚༄ LIFATOK — basically a less toxic version of shiftok lmao (jkJk) but the same premise as LIFAtok but its short video where people mostly share edits or moments from there DR

✯₊˚༄ LIFAFLIX — other people’s and mine DRs as tv shows, you can also watch yourself in other siutations that don’t have to be your DR but other realities that you want to be in but you don’t want to shift e.g a reality where I am spiderman(??) so there's a film based on that scenario.

✯₊˚༄ LIFAFLIX — again like the other social medias, you can share longer videos of moments from your DR

✯₊˚༄ LIFATUNES — basically like Spotify but you can share your songs from your singer DR, you can also find whatever song you want there are basically unlimited songs e.g you can change the language of songs and change lyrics or any certain features of songs you don’t like

✯₊˚༄ LIFABOOK — basically an instant journal with unlimited pages where it will insantly write out enteries of my DR experiences, the dates, everything in detail which I can read back if I want to (although I can always just replay the memories on the big screen)

Last updated : 05/12/2024

[mountttmase]

Number One Fan

Note - just a lil something I wrote yesterday based on a concept my love @saltyheartnightmare sent me 🤭 I hope you all enjoy and feedback would be appreciated 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - angst and fluff

There was only one persons voice Mason wanted to hear right now, but he wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear his.

Looking back at everything that happened yesterday, he could see he was wrong and knew he needed to apologise but his mood had now plummeted even further and he felt more sorry for himself than ever.

The mood on the train wasn’t much better. The loss today had hurt and the only positive Mason was taking was that he’d got more minutes in the tank after such an unfortunate first season. He was just hoping the result today wasn’t something they would carry into the coming year.

Most of the boys were in their own worlds. Asleep or listening to music and whilst Mason would have loved to have been able to zone out and do the same, he couldn’t. His mind plagued with thoughts of you and the tearful look on your face as he shut the door behind him to leave yesterday. No I love you, no hug goodbye. Just a hushed ‘Fine, I’ll text you later’ before he was shutting the door behind him.

It didn’t happen often, only once before, but Mason hated leaving you when you’d had an argument. Especially when he wouldn’t be able to see you until the next day but he was on his way back to you and right now he was trying to rehearse what he wanted to.

I’m sorry

I didn’t mean it

Please forgive me

He missed your face, missed the way your smile would put him at ease and the way your eyes would tell him every emotion you were feeling. In the end he reached into his bag to find his phone so he could flick through his favourite photos of you like usual whenever he missed you but to his surprise, your name was right there on his Lock Screen. He hadn't had much access to his phone since the game had finished and he wasn’t expecting to hear from you but was quick to open his messages and see what you’d said.

The sense of relief overwhelmed him. After your argument Mason assumed you wouldn’t watch the game so you must have just checked the score before messaging. Those two words, love you, were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and the need to hear your voice took over.

Could he call you now? It was maybe a bit risky as some of the boys could possibly overhear him but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he wouldn’t be relentlessly teased for years about how whipped he was, speaking to you was more important. Hitting the call button straight away and after two rings your voice was filtering through into his headphones.

‘Hey Mase, you okay? where are you?’

‘On the train back, we’ve just left’ he told you quietly, looking around to see if anyone was taking any notice but thankfully they weren’t.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win, baby’

‘That’s okay, these things happen’ he nodded. The sound of your voice already lifting him and he knew he had more to say to you but he wanted to look at you while he did it. ‘Can we FaceTime?’

‘If you want’ you whispered and he could hear you shuffling around as he hit the camera button. It took a few seconds to connect but soon enough your face filled his screen.

You were in bed, he could tell that much, your hair plopped on top of your head in a messy bun as you hated sleeping with it down and his heart jumped as he realised you were wearing one of his shirts. Suddenly feeling nervous at the sight of you as he still couldn’t get over the fact you were his sometimes and as soon as you sent him your signature smile, that overwhelming feeling of love for you consumed him.

You felt like home. And he couldn't wait to get back to you.

‘Hey beautiful’ he whispered, your smile only growing as you got comfy and it hurt him knowing he wasn’t there next to you. To hold you and to kiss you and to tell you just how sorry he was for ever making you as upset as he did yesterday.

‘Hey Mase, you alright?’

‘Yeah sorry, I just needed to see you’ he told you and you gave him an understanding nod. You’d needed to see him just as much as it broke your heart seeing how sad he was on your tv and it was like everything the pair of you had said to each other the day before vanished. ‘I'm sorry for yesterday, i didn’t mean it’

‘Thank you’ you whispered. Trying to keep your voice steady but Mason knew you and it was eating him up how dejected you sounded and knowing it was because of him made it all worse. Your eyes glossy before you looked away with a sniff and it felt like you were taking an axe to his chest right in front of him. ‘I’m sorry too, for how I spoke to you yesterday’

‘Hey no, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for okay? It was all me I was a right dick’ he told you. Your musical laughter ringing through his ears and he knew for a fact he’d never heard anything more beautiful.

He really had been a dick though. Ever since he’d come back from pre-season tour you’d been running around after him like his personal maid and whilst at first he told you to relax and that he wasn’t incapable of helping, he’d grown used to you picking up his slack.

It all came to a head just before he left yesterday though. He was late enough anyway and whilst packing his back he’d left all the stuff he didn’t want all over the floor. A trail of socks cascading across the bedroom and he threw all the fresh washing you’d spent an age folding in any direction he wanted and when you came up to see what all the noise was you were horrified at the sight before you.

‘Oh Mason, it took me ages to fold all that, I do hope you’re gonna tidy this up’

‘Are you joking? I’m late enough as it is already’

‘It’s not my job to pick up after you’ you scoffed, a little seriousness behind your lighthearted joke but he didn’t even seem to acknowledge you and his you were feeling.

‘Well I don’t see you doing much else’ he muttered under his breath and you couldn’t believe what he’d just said. All the breath in your lungs leaving at once but he just carried on as if he haddn’t said anything.

When the pair of you left London to move to Manchester you left everything you knew behind, including your job. Mason constantly told you he would support you with everything, even if that meant never getting a job again and whilst you’d enjoyed your ‘gap year’ as you’d called it, you were ready to get back on the bike and find something that gave your life a little bit more meaning again.

His words had cut through you like knives though. Was he just saying he was fine with you staying at home? It's not like you laid in bed all day wasting away as every day you made sure the house and Mason was properly taken care of and Mason told you that being there for him whilst he was injured had meant a lot to him but now you didn’t know if that was all lies.

You didn’t satisfy him with a response. Simply storming out of your shared bedroom and locking yourself in the main bathroom so he couldn’t get to you but you needn't have worried about that. He didn’t bother trying to find you until he was ready to go around fifteen minutes later and when he slammed his fist in the door a few times you ignored him completely.

‘I’m off, are you coming to say goodbye?’ He called and even though you knew you both hated leaving things on an argument, your pride was hurt and you refused to answer him without some form of apology. ‘Please, y/n. I’m gonna be late’ he tried again but still you sat there on the edge of the bath. Fighting to keep your tears in your eyes as you okayed with your fingers in your lap. ‘Fine, I’ll text you later’ he called out and when you heard the door slam downstairs you finally let your tears free.

He text you later that night as promised but it still wasn’t an apology and you were too hurt to respond so you left it unread. Hoping that it might hit Mason what a dick he’d been but it all went out the window when you’d watched his game earlier. Watching him walk down those stairs with the weight of the world on his shoulders broke you and all you wanted to was reassure him things were fine. Texting him as soon as you could but it had taken a few hours for him to be able to get in contact and now you could just about see him and hear his voice you just wanted to tell him to forget all of that but he was insistent on apologising.

‘I’m sorry I’ve not been pulling my weight lately, and I’m sorry for the mess I made yesterday. I’ll clear it up when I’m home’

‘It’s already away, Mase. You didn’t think I’d leave it did you?’ You laughed and the wink he sent you made your tummy flutter.

‘Well then go and mess it up again’ he smiled, making you laugh into the pillow and as much as he loved to see you laugh you knew he had the biggest apology to go. ‘I’m sorry for what I said about you working too. It was the heat of the moment and I was stressed but it’s not an excuse. I’m so sorry gorgeous, you know I don’t think that about you at all’

‘Are you sure?’ You asked. Your voice wobbling as his words had been playing on your mind but you could seen even though the screen how sorry he was.

‘Of course’ he sighed. ‘Please don’t get upset, okay? I’m just a big dumb idiot with no time management skills who can’t control his mouth when he’s in a rush’ he told you. ‘Just wait till I’m home okay? I’m gonna give you a big cuddle. And that’s not just because I need one too’

‘Sorry about the game, Mase’ you pouted. ‘For what it’s worth, I thought you played really well’

‘Wait what?’ He quizzed, his head tilting in confusion. ‘You watched the game?’

‘Of course I did, why wouldn’t I?’

‘I though you wouldn’t want to. Like I’d thought you’d be too annoyed at me’

‘Mase’ you sighed. ‘No matter what, I’m still gonna watch your games okay? Even if we are mad at each other I’m still your number one fan remember. I’m so proud of you and everything you do’

‘I love you’ he whispered tearily. Trying to half hide his face in his hand so you couldn’t see how emotional he was.

‘I love you too Mase’

I can’t wait to get of this fucking train’ he laughed, the frustration clear in his voice and you knew he wanted to be next to you as much as you wanted to be with him.

‘Shall I come meet you at the station? I can get in a cab and wait by your car’

‘No baby it’s okay, I don’t want you waiting out in the dark for me. I’ll be as quick as I can okay. Keep my side warm’

‘Always’ you smiled. ‘I tell you what, I’ve got everything in to make those chocolate covered peanut butter balls you like. I’ll go make you some, yeah? I’m probably draining all your data with this call’

‘I don’t care’ he chucked. Not ready to let you go but he knew he should. Some of the boys were waking up and he didn’t need them listening in so with a few kisses and a long goodbye you both hung up the phone but felling a lot lighter and happier on either end.

Mason heard Sancho turning in his seat before his face popped up above the head rest in front of him. A stupid grin on his face and Mason knew instantly he’d heard every word he’d said.

‘That was pure cinema my man. Made notes and everything’ he chuckled. ‘The art of apologising by Mason Mount’

‘Get fucked, bro’ Mason laughed. Not even caring that he’d been caught. He just wanted you be back in your arms.

[sapphicteadragon]

Link Click season 3 untranslated text

Hey yall! Since the subs on the new season of Link Click are ass (who would have thought) and also don't translate any of the on-screen text, I figured I'd just compile my translations of all of it in case anyone's curious.

These are all the texts from episode 1, as follows:

"Partner, let's play basketball together again tomorrow~" (the 啊 gives it a cutesy/friendly tone)

Top: But you do know

Bottom left: that once the contract is established, no matter whether you succeed, you will have no way of going any further into the future

Bottom right: After it is complete, your soul will dissipate, and regret will be to no avail.

Hmm... in order to do my utmost to save the things I treasure, what is there to regret!

Bilibili Message

"Ranxi Chronicles" The signing event will begin next Saturday at 15:00. Every person will have three minutes of interacting time, and must book a slot in advance to obtain a signature or drawing. The order is determined based on the on-site queueing order.

BILI SEARCH (these are the same characters as bilibili, which is a fun easter egg)

"How to become a comic artist" (search)

1: how do I become a comic artist? Suggestions from those in the profession

Not only must you have a grounding in basic skills, you must also unceasingly practice and learn. You can do this by drawing sketches, and practising tracing lines until your foundation in drawing skill improves.

2: How do I become a qualified comic artist?

You first must set your mentality straight and clearly set your objectives. Your objectives must be established on the foundation of a strong mentality. If you want to become a comic artist, there is no harm in first asking yourself why you have this kind of goal.

3: How to become a comic artist? The state of comic artists in the profession

This specialisation is not as bright and pretty as it appears on the surface. The living and working conditions are also not as satisfying as you might imagine; right now they truly are frugal. (the word used here means skinny/sparse) So, listen to my advice:

SKY5690: There's no future in it, you won't earn any money in the first place

RAIN1352: Run away fast

CAT7931: Haven't slept in 3 days

Shen San Shui (lit. sink in three waters)

Today I went to a comic con, and joined a signing event for my favourite comic artist. I was inspired in no small measure, and from now on I plan to advance courageously on the path of becoming a comic artist! Fortunately a demon girl-jiejie (jiejie means sister, but is also used to refer to an older female friend/acquaintance) helped me find something very important, and if it weren't for her, I definitely wouldn't have been able to muster the courage. But this demon girl-jiejie left something of hers with me, and I have no way of finding her. If anyone knows this jiejie, please contact me anytime!

Description: wearing a demon girl cosplay, around 160cm tall, shoulder-length black hair

Top: My sister was hospitalised again today, the doctor said

Middle: My sister's treatment costs are accumulating. If the investment path is good, and you choose the right one, then the path will naturally be magnanimous

Bottom: Today's profits are in. I rarely do anything luxurious, can't forget to reward myself with food and drink while rushing about~

V: Xun-ge, the profits you entrusted me to handle before have arrived in the account <3

X: Heavens, you're impressive

V: Hehe, next time I can try investing a little more, and can earn even more <3

"Sorry I couldn't get there yesterday, can we meet up again? I want to chat with you"

That's all for episode 1, there weren't any in episode 2 that I saw. If I missed any please tell me and I'll add them, and I'll keep an eye out for any text in the upcoming episodes!

[hotluncheddie]

For @steddie-spooktober day 3 prompt : apples

rated: T | cw: none | tags: old queers, mechanic eddie munson, they're in love

🍏🍞🍏🍞🍏

Steve is stirring the saucepan of soup he made as strong arms wrap themselves around his waist. The softness of Eddie’s middle-aged belly pressing up against his back, the familiar scratch of salt and pepper stubble as his husband leaves a kiss just under his ear.

Steve’s sighs happily, leaning back into Eddie’s warmth.

‘It’s really that time of year again already?’ Eddie mumbles, his face buried in Steve’s shoulder.

Steve hums, turning the stove off and shifting them so he’s leaning against the counter and facing eddie, wrapping his arms around his neck. ‘Yup, collected them from the tree this morning.’ He supplies, tucking a looses strand of Eddie’s work sweaty hair behind his ear.

Eddie’s eyes close sleepily and he opens his mouth. Every year Steve makes apple bread from their apple tree in the back garden, and every year Eddie acts like he’s surprised; before asking Steve to make more once there’s none left to pack with his lunches.

Steve breaks off a bite from the now cool loaf next to him, pulling it off with his fingers because it’s not like he’s sharing with anyone but Eddie. Getting a bit with a chunk of apple inside and feeding it gently into his husband’s waiting mouth. Eddie licks the crumbs from Steve’s fingers and steve marvels at how Eddie’s crows feet are always visible now, not just when he smiles. Older and wiser but just as pretty and goofy as he was when they were 20.

They’re really growing old together, who would’ve known.

‘You’re an outdoorsman and a housewife, how’d I get so lucky?’ Eddie mumbles, opening his big Bambi eyes again as mischief grows on his face. ‘The boys at the shop better be ready to hear me braggin’. “He does it wearing grey sweatpants too.” They’re young, they know what that means.’ Eddie teases, squeezing Steve’s ass with his perpetually oil stained hands.

‘You do not tell them that!’ Steve argues, cheeks flushing at the implications of the nicknames and gossip.

‘I employ them! I can make them listen to me talk about anything. My hot husband who bakes for me and literally forages outdoors is definitely on the yap agenda tomorrow.’ Eddie says matter of factly, nuzzling against Steve’s hot cheek. ‘They made enough fun of me after seeing what a beanpole I used to be in old pictures, least I can do is brag about the guy who turned me into a bear.’

Steve purses his lips but he’ll never not enjoy the way Eddie shows him off, how special it makes him feel. And he can’t help his brain going a little fuzzy as Eddie crowds closer, his bulk pressing in all over. It’s Steves favourite place to be; pushed against anything with Eddie’s weight holding him there.

So when Eddie removes Steve’s glasses gently, setting them on the counter and holding firm at the base of his skull, Steve goes willingly. Always has and always will, mouths dipping together with the sweet taste of autumn on their tongues.

The familiar burst of love that Steve feels for Eddie every day, every year, every season, filling his chest.

And he hopes, knows, that he’ll get to feel it for the rest of their life. For all the autumns still to come.

🍏🍞🍏🍞🍏

Tag list (message to be added/removed):

@scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @marvel-ous-m

@thecatkingsthrone @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[lateatnewyork]

Love Bite

charlie bushnell x famous singer & actor!reader

warnings: fluff, me making my own lyrics 😭

summary: in which you release a new album and reveal your bf

a/n had to make this after i heard need (unreleased) by mother context season 2 of pjo has come and ur silena in the show and ur 19 and we’re gonna pretend that silena and luke end up together ok? OK let’s go

liked by rachelzegler, iamcharliebushnell and 54,765,311 more thisisyn my debut album love bite will be out 16th June 2024

this album shows all the loves of my life; myself, my friends, my family and most of all my boyfriend. you’re my inspiration, my love.

MY LEAD SINGLE UR SO HOT WILL BE OUT ON JUNE 1st view comments

rachelzegler can’t wait ❤️ percyseries love the cover dior.n.goodjohn OMG IM SO EXCITED ➔ thisisyn CANT WAIT FOR YOU TO HEAR IT walkerscobell new playlist for filming leahsavajeffries i just know this is gonna eat ➔ thisisyn stop literally love you bradynoon @aryansimhadri you gonna cover this? ➔ thisisyn leave the poor guy alone 😭 ➔ aryansimhadri anyways…. i’m gonna cover your single at the next watch party ➔ thisisyn this is why you’re my favourite user56 not aryans digital footprint coming up again momonotamada gonna blast this in the car when it comes out liked by creator

liked by iamcharliebushnell, xochitlgomez and 67,046,711 more thisisyn so… 15 songs and half of them are abt my boyfriend but not all some of them are about my family and the fun i have with my friends. but i have to say my boyfriend is probably the most song worthy man ever. i mean he’s like the son of a greek god. view comments

iloveyn WAIT SON OF A GREEK GOD??? AND SHES ACTING IN PJO IS THIS A HINT xochitlgomez claiming ur so hot ➔ thisisyn babes i literally wrote it abt you walkerscobell calm down is mine 👹 ➔ thisisyn u need it leahsavajeffries this is such a pretty album ➔ thisisyn i mean i based it off of you dior.n.goodjohn relating to i miss you fr cos i miss you fr 😔 ➔ thisisyn i’m coming next week bby

demigod whores

diorrrrrr the greek god comment so smart y/n ikr 😼 walkie talkie which songs are abt charlie so i can skip them

rolling in the deep dude the album is abt charlie

walkie talkie so ur so hot is not abt charlie y/n most of them are things charlie would say to me cutie (leah) speaking of where is charlie

y/n he’s currently sleeping on top of me

walkie talkie ew

diorrrrrr cuties

liked by taylorswift, beyonce and 2,362,891,481 more thisisyn damn that height, those lips, that face, this is awkward. shit he’s so hot.

ur so hot now out on all streaming platforms the ur so hot mv will be dropping in 2 hours !! and yes my boyfriend is so hot, hotter than the sun. view comments

hearts4yn SHIT HES SO HOT ➔ user1 MAKES ME WANNA BREAK MY RULES ➔ ynloml A SMILE SO CRUEL dior.n.goodjohn THIS IS SO GOOD AHH ➔ thisisyn OMG TYSM LUV U connornoon help brady is blasting this in the other room ➔ thisisyn LMAOO oliviarodrigo stop this is amazing 🤩 liked by creator leahsavajeffries can’t believe this was written abt some average dude ➔ thisisyn i’m telling him u called him average

liked by walkerscobell, xochitlgomez and 16,734,811 more fallontonight y/n l/n opens up about her album and her boyfriend. view comments

hearts4yn what if it’s charlie? ➔ user43 who? ➔ ynloml charlie bushnell ➔ ynfanpage omg it makes sense the greek god comment? ➔ ynismywife and the popular show? she’s confirmed to be silena in pjo season 2 ➔ user09 lukes love interest ➔ hearts4yn did we just figure this out

liked by thisisyn, leahsavajeffries and 768,831 more iamcharliebushnell why is walker wearing the costume everywhere tagged: walkerscobell view comments

thisisyn fr like i bet it stinks ➔ walkerscobell i don’t stink ➔ thisisyn ur a teen boy liked by creator leahsavajeffries it does, i can confirm liked by creator and 1674 more dior.n.goodjohn i feel sorry for leah and aryan ➔ aryansimhadri i feel sorry for us too

liked by leahsavajeffries, aryansimhadri and 1,909,581 more thisisyn omw to filming but i just saw walker down six oreos view comments

ynismywife its giving disappointed older sister walkerscobell that’s impressive ➔ thisisyn whatever you say kelp face leahsavajeffries this is what i have to deal with 😔 ➔ thisisyn i’ll get u ice cream to make up for it ➔ walkerscobell THATS NOT FAIR I WANT ICE CREAM

liked by sabrinacarpenter, taylorswift and 5,938,472,720 more thisisyn love bite is out now!

but the surprises aren’t over yet; calm down ft dior goodjohn mv is out and it’s directed by the one and only TAYLOR SWIFT and BLAKE LIVELY with guest appearances: renee rapp, ryan reynolds and angelina jolie

AND IM GOING ON TOUR!!!! just wanted to give u a heads up but that’s all i know for now rest of the information will be there in august for the tour that starts in february 2025! see you there

and happy birthday my love 🫶🏻 view comments

ynismywife AND I SAID CALM DOWN ➔ user43 COS UR NOT THE ONLY ONE IN THIS ROOM NOW hearts4yn who’s birthday is it today taylorswift i loved working with you darling ➔ thisisyn the music video would’ve been in shambles without u and blake liked by blakelively, dior.n.goodjohn and 12,376 more leahsavajeffries brb making this album my whole personality ➔ thisisyn my no.1 fan ladies and gentlemen ➔ iamcharliebushnell i thought i was no.1?? ➔ thisisyn close second

liked by iamcharliebushnell, xochitlgomez and 67,981,211 more thisisyn no dior and i aren’t gay cos we wrote a song abt pride love and yes charlie’s my bf

happy birthday to my muse, love bite wouldn’t have been possible without you 🫶🏻 tagged: iamcharliebushnell view comments

walkerscobell could’ve lived without seeing those pictures iamcharliebushnell i love you darling ➔ thisisyn i love you too my love sabrinacarpenter don’t u dare break her heart ➔ iamcharliebushnell i wouldn’t dream of it liked by creator, sabrinacarpenter and 12,786 more dior.n.goodjohn still don’t know how he managed to pull you ➔ thisisyn 🤷‍♀️ hearts4yn not charlie calling y/n darling 😍 ➔ ynloml i get you y/n ➔ thisisyn RIGHT??

liked by thisisyn, killatrav and 56,473,972 others iamcharliebushnell thank you for being the silena to my luke tagged: thisisyn view comments

dior.n.goodjohn how am i meant to be mad at you for stealing my bby when you’re being so sentimental ➔ iamcharliebushnell don’t get mad ➔ dior.n.goodjohn no thisisyn I LITERALLY LOVE YOU 🫶🏻 ➔ iamcharliebushnell i love you too, sweetheart oliviarodrigo cutest couple ever walkerscobell y/n’s turning u into a softie liked by creator

a/n the photos took far too long to edit but i sorta love it ignore my made up lyrics they’re actually so cringe but i didn’t wanna use normal songs (i couldn’t use them cos i couldn’t find a good album cover) my roman empire is how everyone in the pjo cast has curly hair. good day to be a curly haired girl. hope u liked it

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

SFX Magazine Issue 368, August 2023

THEY’RE BACK – AND THIS TIME THEY’RE IN ALL-NEW TERRITORY. NEIL GAIMAN TALKS RETURNING FOR SEASON TWO OF GOOD OMENS

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens’ first season. The task cemented the pair’s unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings, who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell, to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale’s London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions – but also a more intimate tale.

“It’s a mystery,” showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. “It kicks off a story that doesn’t have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven’t before.

“They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale’s tenant,” he continues. “Her name is Maggie [Maggie Service] and she runs the record shop next to the bookshop. You’ll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina’s [Nina Sosanya]. The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles.”

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens’ second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

“Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn’t feel that we could drive straight from season one into that,” Gaiman explains. “I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also knew that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one.

I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn’t have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves. “I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn’t going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell’s representative in London/ the UK. Miranda’s demon Shax is the best demon you could want.”

It’s late February 2022 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studios has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It’s close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale’s store and retrieve Gabriel.

“This is really Shax’s first time out on Earth,” Gaiman explains. “She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She’s just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you’re a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She’s coming to terms with that.

“She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell’s requisition department – a legion of Hell – in an attack on a Soho bookshop.”

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he’s enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he’s meddling in Nina’s love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He’s grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale’s. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blossoming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

“One of the enormously fun things I came up with is the idea of minisodes,” Gaiman explains. “They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three [in season one]. Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

“You get to have the story of [put-upon Biblical figure] Job, and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley’s part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in,” he adds.

“Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League Of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church. I kept thinking, ‘What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies, with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?’”

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Boys. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both timeconsuming endeavours.

“If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon [co-producer] and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, ‘We have good news for you and interesting news for you,’” Gaiman recalls. “‘The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.’

“I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, ‘Neil, don’t! This is unwise.’ That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

“It’s a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one, which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two…”

The Odd Couple - David Tennant and Michael Sheen talk character and sets for season two

Crowley and Aziraphale come off as the best of frenemies at times. Where do they stand with one other now?

DT: They are indeed. What’s different in season two is because of what happened at the end of season one, they no longer have head offices that they have to report to. They are in a very different position. Whereas before they were trying to get away with things, now they are kind of free agents.

MS: Although sort of fugitives as well. They are sort of in-between. But this amazing life they have created over a millennia, they are now able to enjoy in a slightly different way. They are not having to put on a front for their respective teams. There is a different kind of freedom.

DT: While at the same time being cut off, so they are also strangers in a strange land.

MS: That kind of connects them in a slightly different way. They have always been the only two beings who could understand each other’s position. Now they are pushed even closer together.

Now that they have the run of the place with no obligations, does that bring its own set of problems, being cut off?

DT: They have this sort of uneasy relationship. They are not entirely cut off from their head offices. Indeed, their head offices are quite keen to exploit that sort of adjacent connection, as we will see as the story unfolds. They exist in this grey area, neither the supernatural nor of the Earth.

MS: By the time we pick up their story in this series, they have appeared in time where they were kind of let alone a bit more. When we pick the story up, they are being bothered again.

The depth and the richness and the detail of what we are seeing on set here in Edinburgh is mind-blowing. How is it for you having it all in one place now, rather than having filming scattered around the UK?

MS: It’s completely changed the experience of doing it. Just being indoors… The Soho set on the first season was freezing cold.

DT: I was in a car park. Even inside the bookshop I was exposed to the elements! There’s a greater percentage of the show set here. There was a practical imperative to making it a manageable environment. If we had been in a car park, the elements might have impinged our ability to film.

Hellraiser - David Tennant is Crowley

You and Michael know these characters inside out. Do you have a shorthand?

It’s a hard thing to be objective about. Although I didn’t know Michael that well before we shot season one, it was always easy and exciting working together. It’s well-oiled now, for sure. It’s certainly fun to come to work. We enjoy bouncing off each other.

How comfortable are they about becoming involved with Gabriel?

I suppose Aziraphale is a much more enthusiastic detective. We are very much voting for the spin-off called The Azirafiles, which will follow this! As with most things, Crowley is reluctant to get involved or to exhibit any kind of energy or enthusiasm about very much. He is dragged kicking and screaming into this. Necessity forces him to get involved, whereas Aziraphale rather likes it.

Where does Crowley hang out these days?

He spends a lot of time in the book shop. He only has one friend. He can only have one friend. That is the great liberation, and also the great prison, that they find themselves in. They have no one else. They have come to rely on each other more than they ever did. And more than they care to admit.

Crowley is a rock star, in a way. Were there any particular musicians that inspired you?

Not consciously, no. The look was assembled accidentally during the first costume sessions. The Crowley of the book is of the mode when the book was written. He is more kind of Wall Street, the way he is described. We just decided that Crowley should always be of the moment he’s in. We were just trying to find a look that we felt fitted.

Divine Being - Michael Sheen is Aziraphale

How has knowing your characters better informed this series?

The first series was the first time we really properly worked together. It feels like we haven’t stopped working together since. Everything that has happened in-between plays into coming back to these characters. I am sure it is all feeding into it. It’s very difficult for us to know how that is informing the characters and their relationships.

With the flashbacks to various points in Earth’s history, is there a period of time Aziraphale enjoys the most?

One of the most enjoyable things for the audience and us is moving through different historical periods. It’s a great source of joy, and people thoroughly enjoyed that episode in the first series, so that has been expanded on in season two. But in terms of which Aziraphale enjoys the most, I think it’s not actually a period of time that we’ve seen him in on this series.

He would have been happiest at the end of the 19th century, in the Victorian era, which is considered the golden age of magic. He would have loved being with the greats like Harry Houdini. He loved the Victorian period. It was a great period of time for philanthropy and doing good works in a municipal way.

How has it been going from something dark like The Prodigal Son to a more whimsical show?

That’s the nature of an actor’s job. You go from one thing to another. In some ways, it’s even more useful to have big differences between the characters. What tends to happen, and I think most actors feel this way, is if you are playing one character for a long time, part of you yearns to play the bits the character doesn’t have. There’s a naivety and an innocence about Aziraphale. But at the same time, underneath that, there is eons of knowledge and experience.

[tonydaddingham]

Source

Transcript of main article under the cut:

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens' first season. The task cemented the pair's unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale's London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions- but also a more intimate tale.

"It's a mystery" showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. "It kicks off a story that doesn't have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven't before.

"They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale's tenant," he continues. "Her name is Maggie (Maggie Service) and she runs the

record shop next to the bookshop. You'll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina's (Nina Sosanya). The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles."

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens' second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

"Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn't feel that we could drive straight from season one into that," Gaiman explains. "I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also know that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one. I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn't have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves.

"I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn't going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell's representative in London/the UK. Miranda's demon Shax is the best demon you could want."

It's late February 2012 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studies has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It's close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale's store and retrieve Gabriel.

"This is really Shax's first time out on Earth," Gaiman explains. "She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She's just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you're a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She's coming to terms with that.

"She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell's requisition department - a legion of Hell - in an attack on a Soho bookshop."

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he's enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he's meddling in Nina's love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He's grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale's. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blooming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

"One of the enormously fun things I came up with in the idea of minisodes," Gaiman explains. They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three (in season one). Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

"You get to have the story of (put-upon Biblical figure) Job and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley's part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in," he adds.

"Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church I kept thinking, "What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?"

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Bays. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both time-consuming endeavours.

"If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon (co-producer) and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, "We have

good news for you and interesting news for you," Gaiman recalls. "'The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.'

"I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, 'Neil, don't! This is unwise.' That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

"It's a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two."

[blingblong55]

'Tis the time for cuddles -141

^COD men bc they are so cute and deserve this

Based on a request:

Hi, could I request a 141 cuddle pile on a cold fall morning with platonic reader? It could be gender neutral or fem, up to you. :) ---GN!Reader, fluff, platonic!relationship, cuddling --- A/N: Niall Horan is the reason I write fluff tbh…so let's thank my favourite husband

Autumn, the season for the golden leaves, pumpkin lattes, cardigans, the snuggle you get to your blankets on cold mornings and this moment right here, cuddling your teammates. You were in the middle. Your head on Price's lap, Soap getting caressed by your soft touch and on your right side, his head on your chest. Gaz between your thighs, smiling now and then when your hand would scratch his head. Ghost on your left, head on your stomach and looking up with puppy eyes if you stopped playing with his hair. This was the only time he took his mask off, just in the comfort of your room and with his mates.

"Price," you look up, begging for more head rubs. He chuckles, "You're so needy and for what," he pretends to be annoyed but smiles when your face softens from his touch. It's peace for once in your life. You can't control most things in this life, not where you get deployed, not where you die, not how you die and how you live on as a soldier. Yet, there is one thing that can be controlled, this, this moment right here with your people. The fucked up family you made along the way, the soldiers that find reasons to finally let go and sleep in the comfort of your bed. A tight cuddle, trying to keep anyone from falling off the bed but it's nice.

It's not perfect, nothing will ever be perfect and yet for a moment in this life, being in bed, cuddled on a chilly autumn morning, is the closest it gets to perfection. You sigh, content with the life you've been given. No wars, no grenades thrown, explosives scattering bodies or blood on the walls, it was just a cosy room. A room, filled with snores, warmth, too many body parts begging to be comforted and you, in the middle of such a beautiful moment. "Sleep," Ghosy whispers as his thumb caresses your tummy. You smile and then Soap nuzzles his face to your neck.

"Don't leave me out," Gaz whispers and you nod. "Like I ever would," you smile and he hums happily. His face is now on your tummy, Ghost tries to move him aside so he could be the one on your soft tummy. "Stop mate- R/N, tell 'im to stop," Ghost looks up at you like a child looking at its parent. "Boys," you say in such a way they look at each other and nod. "Sorry," they both mumble and coexist as they comfort themselves with you.

This is how the day is, you all get up, hair all messy and Price keeps snoring loudly. For the first time, everyone has a lazy day, with takeout for lunch and takeout with beers for dinner. Conversations about life, memories, lazy laughter, promises for the future and memories for old soldiers to tell their grandkids. All in one day, a life far from their usual, just for one day.

Tags:

@airghostlyfox @aethelwyneleigh27 @liyanahelena

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Last Christmas

-warnings// a little angst, lots of fluff, mention of slicing and finger nail removal

-lil summery// basically based in season 3 episode 8 just with our favourite character... Y/N!

Dean x reader

word count// 6960

(gif from pinterest)

"You didn't see anything at all ma'am, any flickering lights?" You asked the scared women "what would flickering lights have to do with my missing husband?!" Mrs Walsh asked frustrated "what we mean Mrs Walsh is that any detail you can recall even something as small as the lights flickering or even a strange  or unsettling smell could help us find out What exactly happened to your husband" dean swooped in behind you 

Mrs Walsh sighed sadly as she tried to go over the night "I'm sorry I don't remember anything other than my husband being dragged from bed, whoever took him knocked me out- I just I don't know what I'm gonna tell my kids I mean come on Christmas is right around the corner and they have to spend it without their dad?" She cried as her sobs shook her body

You pulled her to the side slightly to calm her "Mrs Walsh I assure you that we'll do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband, I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family" you said handing the weeping women a tissue "thank you agent page" she smiled and headed back into her home.

"Alright so doesn't seem like it was a demon, you guys have any ideas?" You asked the boys on the way to the motel "I'm not sure but I found a tooth  in the chimney so it seems that's where Mr Walsh was taken out from,  I'll start researching when we get back" Sam replied

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence as you took in the scenery of Michigan in December, all the decorations surrounding the town of Ypsilanti.

"Alright I've looked through everything and I keep coming back to same idea" sam said "great what have you got?" You asked sitting next to him on the dingy couch "it's gonna sound crazy but-" Sam was cut off by deans loud laugh "Sammy, what do you think you could possibly say that would sound crazy to us?" You chuckled as Sam sighed a smile curling on his lips "alright… Evil Santa" 

"...alright ya got me, that's crazy" dean crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall "i don't know Dean, we hunt some crazy shit" you said turning to look at the older Winchester, he smirked moving toward the couch, taking a seat next to you and pulling you into him "I guess your right sweetheart, alright Sammy tell me what your thinking" 

You laid your head to rest on your boyfriends hard chest as you listened to Sam ramble on about his theory of krampus, Dean ran his rough hands up and down your side and pulled you closer so you were sat on his lap rather than the two small for you and two oversized Winchester men 

You felt yourself gently drifting off to the sound of deans heartbeat and the distant sound of his gruff voice "well I'm just saying what the lore says..." Sam defended as dean shut down the idea of evil Santa "dude Santa doesn't have a brother... there is no Santa" he said his hand coming to rest on the top of your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles on the warm exposed skin of your hip

"I seen a little Santa village on the way here, it's not that far why don't we go and scope it out" you sleepily suggest "good idea let's head out" Sam said moving to get up you sighed out a huff as you pulled from the warm embrace of your boyfriend, Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed to baby "your in the back Sammy" he said as the younger Winchester went to open the passenger door, Sam sighed as you giggled jumping in and moving to sit next to dean as he pulled you close to his side, the comforting smell of pine and gunfire engulfed you immediately as the impala purred to life.

You and the boys walked through a very.. . Questionable looking Santa's village "this place sucks I thought it would have been more fun looking based on the town's decorations" you said as you looked around the crappy 'north pole' "yeah kinda makes the 'anti-Claus' theory sound more realistic doesn't it" Sam replied 

Dean clapped his hands together happily as turned to you and his brother "hey speaking of Christmas, we should have one this year" he said and you felt your body go rigged, you've been with  Dean for over 2 years and not once in those two years did he express a want to celebrate the holiday other than a few small gifts. You knew he wanted to do this because it would be his last Christmas he gets to spend you and Sam and it's tearing you apart knowing each day gets closer and closer to the end of deans year

Swallowing hard as you felt your throat grow extremely dry, before you can say anything Sam's scoffing "yeah no I'm good" Sam says and Dean continues to push "oh come on, we'll even get a little tree for the room and we can decorate it and then we can get a nice take out for dinner" "honestly I'm not really up for it either Dean" you confessed, finally gaining your voice back 

He looks at you a slight gleam of hurt on his face flashes "come on baby, it'll be fun, we can even watch home alone, I know how much you love that movie" dean said his eyes practically begging you to say yes, you give him a forced smile as you knew you had to cave, you wanted to remember these things with a happy memory with dean, even if right now your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces  "see Sammy, Y/N's in its two against one" Dean said as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, Sam turned his head toward you both and with a shrug of his broad shoulders "you guys do what you want I'm not doing it" he said and stalked away, "what a grinch" Dean whispered in your ear.

"You would think with how expensive this crap was to get in they'd have put on a better show" dean grumbled out as you all seen the disappointment on the kids in lines faces "I know... almost feels like our Santa here really is the anti Santa" you told him and dean nodded while Sam seemed to be in a daze. 

It was a few hours later and you and the boys were in the impala outside 'Santa's trailer waiting for him to make his move. You sat in the front next to Dean as Sam was fast asleep in the back, you'd hardly said a word to him as you stared out the window, head leaning against the cool glass as you felt his green eyes burning holes on the side of your head "everything okay?" Dean asked his voice low as to not alert his sleeping brother 

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking..." you replied not looking at him "what are you thinking about sweetheart?" He asked gently grabbing your hand small hand in his much bigger one "just stuff, nothing to worry about honey" you told him leaning forward to give his plump lips a quick kiss in hopes to ease his worry, Dean would let it go for now but he was still worried about how different you were acting.

You started to drift off once again that day until you were startled by Sam's loud yawn " hey what time is it?" He asked stretching his longs limbs "it's one in the morning, haven't seen anything suspicious yet" dean replied his eyes fixated on the trailer door, just as he finished his sentence the 'Santa' was at the window looking around the quiet parking lot before shutting his curtains in a rush "alright it's show time!" you said jumping out of the car 

Dean ran to get to the trailer door infront of you always wanting to protect you from the darkness of the job in whatever way he can, Dean kicks the door open and the three of you have your guns drawn and aimed at the santa

"...roast my chestnut, egg my nogg" 

The tv played on in the backround as the 'Santa jumped to his feet his bong hitting couch in his hurry

You and the boys shared looks of shock before rushing to hide your guns "Silent night..." dean started off awkwardly and you and Sam quickly joined in "holy night, all is dry..." you grabbed both boys by their jackets and pushed them to the door before rushing into the car, Dean taking off quickly from the embarrassing situation.

The next morning you woke to deans arm being wrapped tightly around your waist as your head lay on his chest, your leg thrown over his hips, you tried to pull away gently as to not wake him, your small movements proved enough to wake the sleeping hunter as he gently opened his green eyes "where you going sweetheart?" He asked his voice deep and raspy from just waking up  "I'm starving so I was gonna go get us some breakfast and coffee" he hummed and pulled you back down to him "ten more minutes then we'll go" dean said kissing the top of your head

"Guys come on we gotta go there's been another attack" Sam announced as he came back into the room, Dean sighed dramatically "I'm going to end the son of a bitch for messing with my sleep" dean threatened making you giggle "alright let's get going we'll stop for something quick then go talk to the vics" you said leaning down to give your boyfriend a quick kiss to the lips before rushing to get dressed.

You sat in the back of the impala drinking your coffee as Dean drove to the Caldwells, you couldn't help but feel your heart sink deeper with each passing day as you stared at your boyfriend through the rear view mirror, Dean was already catching your eyes sending a worried smile your way at the look of your tear filled eyes that you refused to let fall, he raised his brows as to silently ask if you were okay and you nodded quickly changing your gaze to the window as the blur of Christmas decorations blurred with deans speed.

" so ma'am your son explained to you that he saw Santa take his dad up the chimney?" You questioned the sorrow filled women, she nodded holding her arms close to her body in defence motion "that’s what he told me, yes" she replied 

"And where we're you Mrs Caldwell?" Dean asked and the women gave him a strange look of confusion "I was asleep and then all of a sudden I was being dragged from my bed and then i was knocked out, It just happened so fast" she cried

You placed your hand on her arm and smiled in understanding "I understand how hard this must be Mrs Caldwell, I could never imagine the pain and confusion your feeling right now, do you need to take a little break from the questions?" You asked her and she shook her head "no I'm alright thank you detective, I just want this to all be over with so my husband is found and brought home safely to us" she smiled sadly

"Did you happen to see anything of the attacker, maybe hair colour,  height, anything strange?" Dean asked and she shook her head instantly "no I didn't see anything it was so dark and it was just a blur" 

Sam looked around as you and Dean continued to talk to her "yeah so Mrs Caldwell, do you remember where you got that wreath?" Sam asked and the women grew angry as you and Dean sent him looks of question "excuse me!" She demanded "it's just its very pretty" sam stuttered out "I don't give a rats behind about that wreath, I care about my missing husband so if we can stop with the questions and we can get on with finding him so my kids don't have to spend Christmas without their father, that would be greatly appreciated detective!" Sam nodded  "of course mrs Caldwell" 

"Of all the things to ask a grieving wife and mother, you ask about her Christmas wreath?please tell me you have a good theory that will make me forget how horrible that experience was" You asked Sam as you walked towards baby "think about it, that's not the first time we've seen that wreath here" Sam replied, "where?" Dean asked Sam intrigued "the Walshes!" You said quickly and Sam nodded "I don't think that's a coincidence considering the similarities".

Once you got back to the motel Sam quickly got on the phone with Bobby, "hey can we talk?" Dean asked grabbing your hand, you nodded and let him lead you to outside "is everything okay, since we got here you've been a little off, just like you're  shutting down" dean asked his eyes full of concern, you sighed and looked at the ground "I'm okay I'm just tired and can't wait to get this case over with" you lied but your lie detector of a boyfriend didn't buy it for a second "Y/N come on I wasn't born yesterday-" "no but your gonna be dead in a few months, then what?" You cut him off, feeling the lump in your chest grow bigger as your eyes stung with tears 

"Sweetheart I know your upset, believe me if there was any other way to bring Sammy back I would have done it, I love you more than anything and I promise I won't stop looking for a way out of this stupid deal" dean told you wiping the small tear that escaped down your check "it's just so hard knowing our time with you is limited, this is gonna be our last Christmas we can spend together, I just I- I don't know what I'm gonna do without you" you said fully breaking down at this point

Dean pulled you tightly to his chest, hugging you as you cried "I know it sucks baby, I know we never really did anything for Christmas before that's why I wanted to make this a good one so it could be thought back on as a happy memory of us three together" dean confessed as his own voice broke slightly "if I can't get out of this deal, I need you to promise me something... I want you to get out of this life, I want you to move on find someone that makes you happy, I want you to get married and have kids, I want you to have the apple pie life sweetheart because you deserve to be happy" dean said and you pulled back from his tight embrace to look at him, seeing he had a few tears of his own running down his checks

"Dean I can't, I could never be happy with any one other than you, you're the love of my life" you told him, he gave you sad smile "your the love of my life too sweetheart which is why I need to know your gonna be okay if I'm gone, please just promise me this... please" he begged, you nodded knowing you would never follow through, you would never love any one after Dean "I promise".

Dean and you stayed in that position for a while longer while you calmed yourselves before facing Sam "you ready?" Dean asked kissing your forehead, "yeah" you said your eyes feeling puffy and your voice sounding hoarse "I got Bobby, I was right he’s heard of it before, he said it's likely meadowsweet in the wreaths" Sam said looking up from his laptop, "what's wrong?" Sam asked when he seen your sad face "nothing Sammy it'll be alright" you told him, he turned his gaze to dean who's eyes remained on you "alright we'll talk about this later then.." Sam trailed off 

"So what's Bobby saying" you asked taking a seat on the couch  trying to get the focus of you "well other than calling us all morons, he told me the meadowsweet was used in pagan lore, mostly in their rituals" you and Dean shared a confused look "pagan lore, and what kind of rituals?" Dean asked taking his seat next to you 

"Well based on the research, meadowsweet was used like bait for their human sacrifices and the pagan gods would come basically chow down on the closest human" Sam said and your face twisted in disgust "Jesus what are we dealing with here" you said in disbelief "yeah it's pretty nasty stuff, when these family's have been putting the wreaths up it's basically an invitation for them to be killed and eaten" Sam told you "alright so how to do we stop it" dean asked his own face showing discomfort 

"I don't know" Sam told him and Deans eyes widen "Bobby working on a way to figure it out, until then, we're gonna find it" Sam said and you both nodded "alright our first step is to find out who's selling the wreaths... do you think they know what what they're selling?" You said  both boys shrugging their shoulders "I have no idea, I hope not" Dean said, Sam exhales loudly before clapping his hands "well let's go find out" 

Once you were in the parking lot Dean was wrapping his arm around your shoulders tucking you tightly into his side and throwing Sam baby's keys "your driving" Sam tilted his head in confusion before giving Dean a hard look "you are not making me drive so you two can make out in the back seat again!" Sam said quickly, Dean huffed "we're not gonna make out..." he trailed off looking at you shaking your head no "alright we're definitely not gonna make out while you drive...again" dean promised with a laugh before pulling you into the back seat with him and bringing you back to his side "step on it Sammy, we've got a monster to find" dean announced before the impala roared to life and Sam was tearing down the street. 

"Alright this place sells Christmas decorations let's try in here" you told the boys and walked in taking a look around "hi, can I help you folks?" the man at the counter asked "yeah I hope so, we were at the Walshes the other night for couples game night, and I couldn't keep my eyes off their Christmas wreath, it was beautiful and we were really hoping we could get one before Christmas, right honey?" You said a fake smile plastered on your face as you looked to dean "yeah that's right sweetheart, any chance you've got any of them left" dean continued your lie

The man looked confused "I'm sorry I see a lot of wreaths every day, could you be more specific?" You nodded "yeah, it was the most beautiful wreath, it had these green leaves and they had little white buds all over it" the man looked taken back "well aren't you a fussy one" the man said sarcastically , Dean gave the man a hard stare and went to tell him off before you cut him off "yeah I can be, just want the perfect wreath for our first christmas together in our new home" the man nodded and sighed "well it just so happens I know what wreath your talking about, they flew off my shelves in one day, every one loved them so I'm all out actually" sam gave the man a questioning look "the meadowsweet is actually pretty expensive why would you make wreaths out of it?" The man shrugged his shoulders "not a clue, I didn't make em" the man said in his gruff voice "oh really? Who did make them?" You asked him

The man turned to face you " it was Madge Carrigan, nice local lady, she told me these wreaths were so darn a special she was giving them to me, no charge" Dean chuckled knowingly "did you sell them for free too?" The man had a shocked look on his face "hell no, it's Christmas, people would spend money on damn near anything for any price if you slap Christmas in front of it!" The man said loudly looking at dean like he had three heads "that's the Christmas spirit, thanks for your time" you said grabbing Deans hand leading him toward the exit.

Later that night at the motel Dean and Sam were cleaning their  guns while you were in the shower "so what was going on earlier, you guys seemed pretty upset" Sam asked and Dean sighed "it's nothing Sammy we just had a little talk everything's fine" dean told him not wanting to talk about it "Dean come on man, you can talk to me, I'm your brother you don't have to hide anything from me" Sam said wanting Dean to talk "look Y/N was just upset about how much time I have left and when I kept pushing the Christmas thing it just made her feel worse so can we just not talk about it around her" dean said noting the sound of the shower turning off "yeah got it i won't mention it again" Sam said sadly, "alright, you boys ready" you asked coming out of the bathroom a little while later, both boys nodded.

"Alright I think this is the house" sam said "wow can't you just feel the evil" dean joked as he took in the many decorations surrounding the house, you and Sam rolled your eyes as you knocked on the door, a few seconds later a very jolly women opened the door "can I help you?" She asked "please tell me your Madge Carrigan? The genius who made the meadowsweet wreaths?" Dean asked, the women grew a big smile " why yes, that was me, they were most beautiful wreaths weren't they?" She said excitement oozing out of her "they were just beautiful, this one right here seen one the other day, and just hasn’t  stopped talking about it, ain't that right Sammy" Dean said pointing to his giant brother "... oh yeah, totally we were in the store the other day and seen them and they sold out just before we could get our hands on one" Sam told her feigning disappointment 

The women grew a sad look "oh fudge, that's horrible they are just the most sweet smelling wreaths!" She said you nodded your head "they were, we were so disappointed we couldn't get one ourselves, say, you wouldn't have any spares we could buy?" You asked and she kept her sad expression "oh I'm sorry dear, those were the only ones I had for this season, gosh I wish I could give you one!" She said and you held back a snarky 'yeah so you could eat us right up' remark "Mrs Carrigan. may I ask why did you choose to use meadowsweet in your wreaths?" You asked and a man came down in a cheerful sweater with an old fashioned pipe between his lips as she answered "why the smell of course, it's it just the sweetest smell dear?" She asked her husband 

"Oh it is! You haven't smelt anything sweeter than those Christmas wreaths!" The man said with a loud chuckle "definitely not sir" you faked a laugh with them "say would any of you folk care for some peanut brittle?" The man asked handing  the tub of candy out, you saw deans hand reaching for and quickly slapped it away "oh no thanks we're just on our way to dinner, don't want to ruin our appetites, anyway thank you for your time Mr and Mrs Carrigan, hopefully we snag a wreath next year" you say pulling both boys away "oh you will I save one specially for alll of you" Mrs Carrigan laughed as they closed the door, "well that was... disturbing" you said and both boys agreed before Sam was driving back to the motel.

Dean and you were sat on the motel bed sharpening wooden stakes to take out the evil pagans "you find anything yet sweetie?" You asked tossing and other finished stake to your pile before staring another "yeah, so get this, turns out Mr and Mrs jolly lived in Seattle last year, and right around Christmas time, there was a few abductions that took place, sounds identical to what's happening right now. And Bobby's sure that the evergreen stakes will kill them?" Sam asked  before shutting his laptop down, "Oh he's sure, so get helping big guy" dean said throwing Sam a stake to carve. 

It was nine o clock when you the boys were breaking into the empty house "hey look, the furniture still has the wrapping over it, they're obviously planning on ditching town as soon as possible" you said pointing your flashlight at the couch "that's creepy as hell" Dean said as you all made your way to the kitchen "hey guys over here!" Sam whispered loudly, you both went back over to find an unlocked door "must be the basement, let's check it out boys" you told them both as Sam lead the way down the basement, Dean walking behind you, both boys always being protective no matter what

"Oh my god that's disgusting" you said your flashlight pointed to 'santas sack' full of bones and body parts, the bag dripping blood "this places looks more like a butcher's than a freaking basement!" Dean as you took in the sight of blood and bones across the room, "I think there's someone in there!" Sam said worried as he saw the other sack moving, you all rushed to open it but you were grabbed from behind you screamed as the attacker lifted you off your feet 

"Y/N!" Dean yelled and rushed toward you Sam close behind his stake at the ready, you were slammed against the wall, Mrs Carrigan’s crazy  eyes meeting ours "it's very rude to break into people's home now isn't it" she sneered her hand tightening it's grip around your throat cutting off the air from your lungs blurring your vision “get your hands off her or I swear I'll blow your fucking brains out!" dean yelled his gun pointed at the women, Sam moving to sneak behind her with his stake raised before he was whacked in the back of the head, Mr Carrigan coming into view  "now, now it was awfully silly for you all to go snooping where you don't belong wasn't it" the man said slapping deans gun from his hand with unnatural strength "the hel-" dean started but was knocked out with a blow to the head by Madge. 

You stirred awake and looked around finding Dean sat in front of you tied to a chair, his head slumped to the side as he was out "Dean! Wake up" you called for him and heard shuffling from behind him "Y/N! Are you okay?" Sam asked worried "yeah I think so" you rasped out you throat feeling sore "what's going- Y/N! Sammy!" Dean moved quickly to start rushing to break out from the confinements of the ropes "looks like we're dealing with two pagan gods rather than one" Sam said 

"Oh look dear they're awake, goodness we thought you were gonna sleep right through the night" Madge said chuckling as she walked behind her husband "and what? sleep through the party? No chance" dean replied sarcastically "oh he's a funny man then. No boy, see what you lot are, is hunters!" Mr Carrigan  said looking  at all of us in disgust "yeah, and you're  pagan gods so how about we just forget about this and we go our separate ways" dean said and the Cardigans both shook their heads right away "not a chance, you would just go and call all your hunting friends, no your not walking out of here alive" Madge said cheerfully as she pulled out a knife and bowl 

"Guess you should have thought about that before you started eating people!" You demanded "oh don't be like that, we have pulled back from how much we used to eat, we used to take hundreds in a year, and now we only take what two or three?" She turned to her husband "well the three stooges here makes six dear" Mr Carrigan said as he walked to stand next to his wife "now that's not so bad is it, from hundreds to six people a year!" Madge said exasperated "oh well, when you say it like that... it's still horrible, your still monsters!" You said annoyed "you should be showing us some respect, your fate does lie in our hands now doesn't it, hunter" Mr Carrigan sneered at you in a threatening manner

"You touch a damn hair on her head and I swear I'll rip you limb from god damn limb" Dean threatened pulling at his restraints once again "well we're not the ones tied up now are we? so you ought to watch yourself" Mr Carrigan was in deans face as if to intimidate him "or what, your gonna eat us?" Madge perked up with a bright smile on her face "oh no, that comes later first we need to do the rituals" she announced clapping her hands together in excitement 

"Oh we do love a good ritual don't we Madge" the women nodded excitedly "nothing better than a gold ole ritual to get you in the Christmas spirit! We just need some-" "meadowsweet?" Dean questioned, Madge nodded excitedly "oh darn, your all out of your... special meadowsweet wreaths, guess we'll just have to cancel the whole ritual" you rushed out looking at dean who was already looking at you with a worried glint in his eye 

"Oh don't you worry dear, we have some special meadowsweet saved for such occasions!" Madge told you as she put wreaths around your necks "see now don't they look so, oh what's a good word... sweet" Madge said with a devious smile "sweet enough to eat!" Mr Carrigan said as he walked towards you with the knife and bowl "the hell are you doing! Get the fuck away from her" Dean yelled thrashing around in his restraints, Sam trifling against his own to help 

"We're starting with the loud mouth" Mr Carrigan said as he dragged the knife down you arm causing you to scream "Y/N!" "Get off her, I swear I'm gonna kill you, you fucking sons of bitches!" The boys both yelling

You felt slightly dizzy form the blood loss, but you've been hurt far worse than this so your able to stay awake "Can you believe how they talk to us Madge? We're gods! They should be bowing down to us and thanking us for this, it's an honour for you!" Mr Carrigan  said angrily leaning down to Sam "d-don't" Sam started before he yelled out in pain "Sammy!" You and dean yelled

 "you okay?" Dean questioned noticing your face screwed up in pain, don't worry about me I've been hurt worse than this" Madge came and stood before dean "now ya won't feel a pinch dear " she said before slicing down his arm Dean groaned in pain "you fucking bitch!" You screamed thrashing your legs trying to break them from their binds in order to lick the pagan god "oh watch your language in my house! She turned to you "when I really want to say bad words, ya know what I say… 'fudge' it's much nicer to say!" She said and you rolled your eyes "oh I'll try and fudging remember that!" You said exhausted with these peoples act 

"Where are the pliers Madge?" Mr Carrigan asked shuffling through the cupboards "third drawer dear" Madge replied as she placed the bowl of your mixed blood ok the kitchen counter "Ah delightful! I think we'll start with you" and Carrigan said as he came to stand in front of Sam "the hell are you gonna do to me!" Sam demanded, neither of them answered him as they started pulling his nail away, Sam yelled in pain as you and Dean yelled for them to stop "Get off him you fudging lunatics!" Dean yelled still trying to get out of his restraints "oh very good!" Madge said proudly to dean as she plopped  Sam's finger nail in the bloody bowl,

"Your turn" Mr Carrigan said as he looked at you with a sick smile "no- no please.." your begs were muffled as he put the pliers in your mouth and went to pull a tooth out "stop it!" Dean yelled 

Just as the evil pagan was about to rip your tooth out the doorbell rang, they shared a look of frustration before they stopped what they were doing and went to answer the door, leaving you and the boys alone 

“Alright we don’t have much time” Sam said before he was able to wiggle his arm from the restraint and grabbing the blood covered knife from the counter and cutting the rest of his ropes “how the hell did you get out of them” dean whisper yelled as Sam undid his restraints “he hit the rope on my wrist when he was cutting my arm, I just needed them to be distracted” Sam informed you both, as soon as deans restraints were done he was taking the knife from Sam and kneeling in front  of you “how you feeling baby?” He asked making you smile “I’m fine, let’s kill these bastards!” 

“We do apologise for that interruption, now let’s get back to the…” she trailed off turning to her her husband who matched her hard look before hearing a loud bang “careful you nearly took my hand off Dean!” They heard a male voice say from outside the door 

“Dude our evergreen stakes! They’re in the basement” dean said worried knowing the cupboard wouldn’t hold forever when he heard the yells and bangs from the kitchen as Mr and Mrs crazy tried to break free  “yeah I think I’ve got that figured out” you told them as they turned to see what you were staring at… the Christmas tree “god baby your a genius!” Dean said and walked towards the big tree, he started breaking the branches off, just as you each got your own weapons the cupboard snapped and the Carrigans were stood breathing heavy with red angry faces at the doorway

“Oh you rude little… I loved that tree!” She screamed as she rushed attack Dean, you punched her before she could get to him, she turned to give you a sinister smile as she spit a bit of to the floor, she tried to grab you by your neck once more but you were faster, riling to the side so the women stumbled, you heard a groan from beside you that causing your attention, seeing Mr Carrigan on top on dean was enough to distract you, giving the evil pagan the upper hand as she gripped you neck tightly, you scratched at her hands to get her off

As soon as it started it was over,her grip on your neck loosened as the women grew limp, you looked down to see the tree branch through her chest as you coughed uncontrollably , Sam was behind her shoving it in deeper “MADGE NO!” Mr Carrigan yelled, Dean stuck him with his own branch before shoving the limp body to the side and getting up “you two okay?” Dean asked rushing over, “I’m okay, bound to have a sore throat all next week considering lil ole Madge there seemed pretty into choking” you joked causing both boys to laugh “alright we better clean this crap up” Sam said already making his way toward the Carrigans body’s.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the motel while you two went to go grab some take out for Christmas dinner “this was a pretty nasty hunt wasn’t it” dean said and you turned to smile at him  “yeah it was, who’d have thought we’d find evil pagan gods” you joked and turned back to look at the open road, noticing dean slowing baby up and pulling into a dirt road

He turned to face you “hey, so I know you don’t want to do Christmas, and I get it, trust me I do, but I-” he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing “I got you this a while ago and was just finding the right time to give it to you, and now seems as good as any..” Dean confessed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a ring box revealing a beautiful diamond ring “dean?” You questioned tears in your eyes 

“I’m not proposing, we’ll i mean I kind of am, if I wasn’t in this deal sweetheart, I’d be on knee begging you to marry my ass but I don’t want to do that knowing there’s a chance I might not live to marry you, so I’m making a promise, a promise that if by some miracle I get out of this, you and me are getting married, we’ll do the whole nine yards because you deserve nothing better so my question is will you accept my promise?”” dean asked his voice shaky and full of fear as you had tears streaming down your face

You nodded and let out a teary laugh “yeah, I accept your promise Dean” you cried leaning forward to give him a wet kiss on the lips, you pulled apart when it became too hard to kiss because the two of you were smiling so hard “I love you so much sweetheart” he confessed leaning his forehead against yours “I love you too Dean”.

You and dean drive back to the motel after s few pit stops for food and gas, not being able to wipe the smile from your faces, not being able to stop admiring the small but beautiful diamond placed on your ring finger. 

You both walked into the the motel room hand in hand with burgers and fries in a bag, hearing jingle bells play softly in the background and Sam stood smiling at you both, you took in the room and noticed the little Christmas tree sat on the table and the eggnog “Sammy?” Dean questioned his smile growing bigger “what’s all this then?” Sam gave him an obvious look “it’s Christmas, well our Christmas” Sam replied handing you both a cup of eggnog

“Well let’s sit down get eating” Dean said as you all took a seat at the small motel couch “hey what’s that” Sam asked spotting the sparkle in you hand “we’ll we kinda got engaged, well a promise engagement” you told him showing the ring off to the younger Winchester who was smiling at you both “that’s amazing you guys!” He congratulated making you smile 

“I got you both something” Sam confessed pulling out two presents wrapped up in news paper “you didn’t have to do that Sammy” you said with a smile, “I got you something too” dean told him pulling out the presents you two both purchased, “oh wait don’t open anything! I have your presents in my bag” you said quickly running to your duffle and pulling out two cutely wrapped boxes “sweetheart when did you get these? I thought you were against CHRISTMAS at first?” Dean questioned when you handed him his present 

“I was against celebrating… under these circumstances but I always love presents” you told him sitting down once more you all opened you gifts, Sam had gotten you your favourite bottle of vodka, Dean had gotten Sam porno mags to which the younger hunter lit up at “no more pay per view for a while now” you joked, he also got him a bottle of shaving cream, knowing he ran out that morning… because he’d finished it off, Sam got Dean a bottle of oil for Dean and his favourite candy bar “hey, you knew just what I wanted man” dean told him opening up the candy bar 

The boys the  opened your gifts “Y/N, thank you I love it” Sam said moving to give you a hug after  he opened the box of his favourite cologne “no problem sweetie, I know how much you love that stuff 

Dean was next opening up his present “hey that’s awesome, a new gun to add to the collection” dean said excited looking at the silver pistol “hey it’s got my initials!” Thank you sweetheart, I love it” dean told you pulling you into a deep kiss.

You and the boys were all sat on the couch, you on deans lap cuddling into him as home alone played in the back ground, but you couldn’t really focus too much on the movie, only the man who was currently snoozing with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, thinking of every possible way to save him from his  fate, praying to anyone to save your boyfriend, for now you had to wait and just hope for the best, hope that your boyfriend wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by hell hounds, hope that someone, anyone could save him. For right now you were gonna relish in the feeling of his strong arms around you, of the feeling of his heartbeat, the sounds of his voice because deep down you knew, he couldn’t be saved from this, you just had to cherish the little time left with him. 

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ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

hi, its been a minute, currently rushing through ideas and trying to write for Sam and Cas but every idea just so happens to accidently turn into a Dean imagine (im sorry sam and cas people!) if you have any ideas you would like to see done please feel free to send in any requests x